After a time the village seems to become accustomed to the "new departure," and local politics, Tammany rings and frauds, and committees of forty agitate the public breast, until Spring returns and Saratoga blossoms again with new beauty. Romance. Although Saratoga is preeminently a fashionable resort, and the city of vanity fair, it is nevertheless Cupid's summer-home; and lovers here acknowledge the first throbbings of that passion of bright hopes, and too many sad realities--love. The complaint is always heard that "fish don't bite this season;" but autumn comes, the butterflies return home, and then it is found that a goodly number have been _caught_. Those not matrimonially inclined should know that a sojourn at a Spa is attended with considerable danger. Saratoga Society. The poet says of Saratoga life: "Saratoga society, What endless variety! What pinks of propriety! What gems of sobriety! What garrulous old folks, What shy folks and bold folks, And warm folks and cold folks! Such curious dressing, And tender caressing, (Of course that is guessing.) Such sharp Yankee Doodles, And dandified noodles, And other pet poodles! Such very loud patterns, (Worn often by slatterns!) Such strait necks, and bow necks, Such dark necks and snow necks, And high necks and low necks! With this sort and that sort, The lean sort and fat sort, The bright and the flat sort-- Saratoga is crammed full, And rammed full, and jammed full," etc. Conclusion. But while we laugh at Saratoga, its dancing, dressing and flirtation, it is yet not without its lessons for an observing eye. "Here the heart May give a useful lesson to the head, And Learning wiser grow without his books." It is not all frivolity. Like every aspect of life, and like most persons, it is a hint and suggestion of something high and poetic. It is an oasis of repose in the desert of our American hurry. It is a perpetual festival. Here we step out of the worn and weary ruts of city society, and mingle in a broad field of varied acquaintance. Here we may scent the fairest flowers of the South, and behold the beauty of our Northern climes. Here party distinctions and local rivalries are forgotten. Here, too, men mingle and learn from contact and sympathy, a sweeter temper and a more catholic consideration, so that the summer flower we went to wreath may prove not the garland of an hour, but a firmly linked chain in our American Union. [Illustration: GOODBYE. CLOSE OF THE SEASON AT SARATOGA] APPENDIX TO PART I. When the previous forms went to press, we were unable to give any satisfactory and reliable statement of the Spouting Springs recently discovered in the vicinity of the Geyser. We present, below, such information as we are able to give in regard to them at this time, hoping to render our description more complete in future editions of this work.