Old Sally herself, replete and pompous, trotted to and fro in Our Square, brimful of smiling hints of a great honor that was to come to us. Her young mist'ess, she let it be known, was graciously pleased to be recognizant of the part, useful though humble, which Our Square had played in her reestablished fortunes, and she was about to acknowledge it in a manner worthy of her family and her traditions. In Old Sally's own words, she was going to “mo' dan even it up wif you all.” Curiosity, speculation, and surmise had become almost morbid in Our Square, when one morning there burst upon us, in an effulgence of glory, a mail as splendid as any which had ever brightened Mr. Boggs's worshiping eyes on its passage upward to his top floor. To Mr. Boggs himself it came, to Schepstein, to the Little Red Doctor, to me, to Polyglot Elsa, and to many others, even down the scale as far as Inky Mike, this big white envelope, sealed with a square of black sealing wax and inclosing a most gratifyingly proud and stiff pasteboard card. That card still stands carefully dusted on many a mantel of Our Square, a guerdon and manifesto of social glory. At the top of it is blazoned the crest of the Tallafferrs, standing between the flag of the Confederacy and the coat of arms of Old Virginia. Below runs this legend--in real engraving if you please:-- MADAM RACHEL PINCKNEY PEMBERTON TALLAFFERR solicits the honor of your presence at Number Seventeen, Our Square, on Friday, November Eighteenth, to view an autograph letter indited to her honored father, the late Major Bently Pemberton, by LIEUTENANT (AFTERWARD GENERAL) THOMAS JONATHAN JACKSON Of the Army of the Confederate States of America. Refreshments. R. S. V. P Our Square had won social recognition. THE MEANEST MAN IN OUR SQUARE MILES MORSE was his name. He lived over on the north side of Our Square, two doors from the Varick Mansion, in a small, neat, solid, and very private house. His age was uncertain. His appearance was arid. His garb was plain and black. His expression was unfriendly. His business was making money and his pleasure keeping the money when made. He was a fixture of long standing in our little community, as much so as the paving stones in the park space facing his house, and as insensate to the human struggle around him as they. As to his neighbors, he asked nothing and gave nothing. Behind his back, and not always very far behind it, he was called the Meanest Man in Our Square.