Their pleasant anticipations of the _soiree_ were suddenly checked by quite a melancholy mishap to the solid Ann Harriet. In reaching forward to receive a cup of coffee from her aunt, she was obliged to rise a little from her seat. Now, the chair in which she was sitting had been broken the day before and was glued together, strong enough for any ordinary usage, but wholly inadequate to sustain such a weight as now taxed it; so when Ann 'set back' into the furniture, the already strained joints came apart, and she felt herself descending to the floor; to save herself, she clung to the edge of the table, but, of course, that was no support; on the contrary, it tilted up and launched its whole contents over the prostrate form of the unfortunate Ann Harriet. There she lay, pinned to the floor by the heavy table, while her face and neck and dress were covered with butter, gooseberry pie, hot coffee, broken eggs, and slices of fried ham. The carpet was in a similar condition, and the Old Dominion coffee-pot was found expiring under the sofa. Mr. Farnsworth, in an attempt to save the table from going over, lost his own balance, and fell flounder-flat on the floor, where he lay shuddering, with his hair in a dish of Shaker apple-sauce: the rest of the family escaped unscathed, but were sadly astonished at the sudden turn things had taken. Mr. Farnsworth and Gregory raised the fallen table to its former position, and Miranda set about collecting the scattered dishes. 'I knew that we were going to breakfast, but I did not think we should break so fast as that,' remarked Gregory, ruefully. Ann Harriet, up to this time, had retained her consciousness, when it suddenly occurred to her that, in the stories she had read, the heroines always fainted when anything unusual happened; so she shut up her eyes and began to gasp, just as her uncle and cousin were about to assist her to her feet. 'She is faint; get some water, quick!' exclaimed Miranda. Gregory seized the 'Old Dominion,' and dashed what coffee there was left in it on Ann's face, then threw on all the cream in the pitcher, and wound up his frightful orgie by emptying over her locks a lot of brown sugar from a bowl which stood near. The effect was that the faint damsel 'came to' very fast, and requested to be helped up. Her aspect was remarkably ludicrous; the moistened sugar, clinging to her hair and plastering up her eyes, caused so much mirth on Gregory's part that he could hardly restrain it within the bounds of politeness. 'Oh, _do_ help me up!' implored Ann Harriet.