About ten o'clock the visiting party started off to view the sights of the town. Under the leadership of the town officers they turned their steps first towards the new library. On entering this handsome building, they observed hung over the balcony, facing them, a large oil painting of a beautiful dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, dressed in satin and velvet and ermine, and having a coronet upon her head. Underneath was a tablet bearing an inscription. "An admirable portrait," said Quincy to his wife. "Can you read the tablet, dear? I fear I shall really have to see Dr. Tillotson about my eyes." Alice smiled at the allusion, and directing her gaze upon it, read without the slightest hesitation: "Linda Putnam, once a resident of this town, now Countess of Sussex, and donor of this library building, which is named in honor of her father, Charles Chessman, only brother of Robert Chessman." During the evening festivities the Town Hall was brilliantly lighted, and every seat in the galleries and coigns of vantage were occupied. The guests at the banquet numbered fully sixty. A Boston caterer, with a corps of trained waiters, had charge of the dinner. During its progress the Cottonton Brass Band performed at intervals. They were stationed in Putnam Square, and the music was not an oppressive and disturbing element, as it often is at close range on such occasions. When coffee was served, Toastmaster Obadiah Strout, Esq., arose, and the eyes of banqueters and sightseers were turned toward him. "This is a glorious day in the history of our town," the toastmaster began, "The pleasant duty has fallen to me of proposing the toasts to which we shall drink, and of introducing our honored guests one by one. I know that words of advice and encouragement will come from them. But before I perform the duties that have been allotted to me, it is my privilege to make a short address. Instead of doing so, I shall tell you a little story, and it will be a different kind of a story from what I have been in the habit of telling." This remark caused an audible titter to arise from some of the auditors in the galleries, and Abner Stiles, who was sitting behind Mrs. Hawkins, leaned over and said to her, "I guess he's goin' to tell a true story."