"Ye-e-e-e-s!" she repeated, and away went B----, lickety split, for the Boston train. After a general and miscellaneous survey of modern Athens, B---- found an opening--a good one--to go into business, as he desired, upon a liberal scale; but he found vent for the explosion of one very hallucinating idea--his six hundred dollars, as a cash capital, was a most infinitesimal _circumstance_, a mere "flea bite;" would do very well for an amateur in the cake and candy, pea-nut or vegetable business, but was hardly sufficient to create a sensation among the monied folks of Milk street, or "bulls" and "bears" on 'change. However, this realization was more than counter-balanced by another fact--"confidence" was a largely developed _bump_ on the business head of Boston, and if a man merely lacked "means," yet possessed an abundance of good business qualifications--spirit, energy, talent and tact--they were bound to see him through! In short, B----, the great Portland capitalist, found things about right, and in good time, and in the best of spirits, started for home, determining, in his own mind, to give his wife a most pleasant surprise, in apprizing her of the fact that she was not only the wife of a man with six hundred silver dollars, and about to move his _institution_--but the better half of a gentleman on the verge of a new campaign as a Boston business man. "Lord! how Caroline's eyes will snap!" said B----; "how she'll go in; for she's had a great desire to live in Boston these five years, but thinks I'm in debt, and don't begin to believe I've got them six hundred all hid away down----. But I'll surprise her!" B---- had hardly turned his corner and got sight of his house, with his mind fairly sizzling with the pent-up joyful tidings and grand surprise in store for Mrs. B., when a sudden change came over the spirit of his dream! As he gazed over the fence, by the now dim twilight of fading day, he thought--yes, he did see fresh earthy loose stones, barrels of lime, mortar, and an ominous display of other building and repairing materials, strewn in the rear of his domicil! The cellar doors--those wings of the subterranean recesses of his house--which he had cautioned, earnestly cautioned, the "wife of his bussim" to close, carefully and securely, were sprawling open, and indeed, the outside of his abode looked quite dreary and haunted. "My dear Caroline!" exclaimed B----, rushing into the rear door of his domestic establishment, to the no small surprise of Mrs. B., who gave a premature-- "Oh dear! how you frightened me, Fred! Got home?" "Home? yes! don't you see I have. But, Carrie, didn't I earnestly beg of you to keep those doors--cellar doors--shut? fastened?" "Why, how you talk! Bless me! Keep the cellar shut? Why, there's nothing in the cellar." "Nothing in the cellar?" fairly howls B----.