Well, so passed that winter, so full of future consequences--that winter in which Ally's gentle spirit first won the heart of her wild Cousin Will. All pleasures pall! Before the season was over, the streets, the shops, the shows--all the wonders and glories of the city had lost their attraction with their novelty. When the spring came, we had grown just a little weary of city life. With April, a spring fever for sowing, and planting, and pruning, and training came upon us. But, alas! there was nowhere to sow or plant--our back yard was flagged, and our front one paved. And there was nothing to prune or train--four forlorn trees, trimmed by city authorities into the shape of upright mops, standing upon the hard pavement before our door, were the only apologies for vegetation near us, and they looked as exiled and homesick as ourselves. Mrs. Hawkins also missed her chickens and turkeys, and we all felt the loss of the cows. "Ah, if we could only get a house away to ourselves, a house in the suburbs, with ground around it, where we could be private, and have shade trees and a garden, and cows and poultry, and all that, within easy walk to the city, how happy I should be," said grandmother, sighing. "Ah, yes! if we only could! then we should enjoy the pleasures of both city and country life," said I. "'Oh, that would be joyful, joyful, joyful, joyful!'" exclaimed Ally, quoting the chorus of a popular hymn. "Ah! well, we must keep our eyes open, and see what we can find," said our grandmother. The street upon which we lived was narrow and closely built up. It led down half a mile to a long bridge that crossed the river. Consequently this street was the great thoroughfare of country people coming into town, to market, or to shop, or upon any other errand. Among those who came every day was one old man, who was quite an eccentric character, and who is still remembered by the aged inhabitants of W----. Dr. H---- always wore a cocked hat, a powdered wig, a black velvet coat, double waistcoat, ruffled shirt, knee breeches, long hose and silver buckles, and carried a gold-headed cane, keeping up in his age the style and costume of his youth. He came in town every morning in a gig driven by a servant as old and as quaint as himself. He returned every evening. The doctor was a never-failing object of interest to us. The little information we could get respecting him only whetted our curiosity to a keener edge. We learned from Cousin Will that he had no family and no society; that he lived alone in a secluded country house, called the Willow Cottage, with no companion except the aged servant seen always with him; that he had a traditional reputation of having possessed great skill in his profession, and that he now followed a limited practice among his old contemporaries in the city. So much of authentic facts.