Influenced by this idea, I paused, perhaps, half a minute, with my foot on the iron step, and asked the regimental chap, with the air of a queen giving directions, if it was very cold? and if Mrs. Dempster was quite well, that morning? He bowed when he answered both these questions, with the greatest respect; which was satisfactory, as the people on both sides must have seen him do it. Then I stepped gracefully into the carriage and sat down, buried to my knees in billows of pink silk. Over that I drew the robe of white fur, and waved my hand, as much as to say: I am seated; you can close the door. Which he did. One thing is curious about the streets of New York on New Year's Day. Not a woman or girl is to be seen on the sidewalks. The garden of Eden, before Adam went into the spare-rib business, wouldn't have been more completely given up to the desolation of manhood, unrefined by sweet female influence. But every man that I saw, going up or down, looked bright and smiling, as if he expected to find an Eve of his own before the day was over, and I shouldn't wonder if a good many of them did. XXIII. THE NEW YEAR'S RECEPTION. Cousin E. E. Dempster was all ready, and standing as large as life in one end of her long parlor, when I went in. The first sight of that room made me start back and scream right out. I had left daylight outside, but found night there. The blinds were shut close to every window. Over them fell a snow-storm of white lace, and over that a cataract of silk that seemed to have been dyed in wine, its redness was so rich and wavy. The two great glass balloons were just running over with brightness that scattered itself everywhere--on the chairs, the cushions, the carpet, and a great round sofa which stood, like a giant cheese, in the middle of the room, all covered with silk, and with a tall flower-pot standing up from the centre, running over with flowers, and vines, and things. This queer sofa, that seemed to have burst out into blossom for the occasion, was a New Year's present, Cousin E. E. said, and quite a surprise. "Then there is another," says she, a-pointing towards a marble man, dressed in a grape leaf, that seemed to have been firing something at the stone girl, and was watching to see if it had hit. "Of course you have seen the Apollo before?" I looked at the stone fellow sideways, then dropped my eyes. "I--I don't know," says I; "maybe I should know him better if he had his clothes on." "Look again. You must have seen him," says she. "No," says I, a-turning my head away; "I--I'd rather not till he goes out and fixes himself up a little."