I liked--the sound of this youth's voice, I said, and his look when I came to observe him a little more closely. His complexion had something better than the bloom and freshness which had first attracted me;--it had that diffused tone which is a sure index of wholesome, lusty life. A fine liberal style of nature seemed to be: hair crisped, moustache springing thick and dark, head firmly planted, lips finished, as is commonly sees them in gentlemen's families, a pupil well contracted, and a mouth that opened frankly with a white flash of teeth that looked as if they could serve him as they say Ethan Allen's used to serve their owner,--to draw nails with. This is the kind of fellow to walk a frigate's deck and bowl his broadsides into the “Gadlant Thudnder-bomb,” or any forty-port-holed adventurer who would like to exchange a few tons of iron compliments.--I don't know what put this into my head, for it was not till some time afterward I learned the young fellow had been in the naval school at Annapolis. Something had happened to change his plan of life, and he was now studying engineering and architecture in Boston. When the youth made the short remark which drew my attention to him, the little deformed gentleman turned round and took a long look at him. Good for the Boston boy!--he said. I am not a Boston boy,--said the youth, smiling,--I am a Marylander. I don't care where you come from,--we'll make a Boston man of you,--said the little gentleman. Pray, what part of Maryland did you come from, and how shall I call you? The poor youth had to speak pretty loud, as he was at the right upper corner of the table, and the little gentleman next the lower left-hand corner. His face flushed a little, but he answered pleasantly, telling who he was, as if the little man's infirmity gave him a right to ask any questions he wanted to. Here is the place for you to sit,--said the little gentleman, pointing to the vacant chair next his own, at the corner. You're go'n' to have a young lady next you, if you wait till to-morrow,--said the landlady to him. He did not reply, but I had a fancy that he changed color. It can't be that he has susceptibilities with reference to a contingent young lady! It can't be that he has had experiences which make him sensitive! Nature could not be quite so cruel as to set a heart throbbing in that poor little cage of ribs! There is no use in wasting notes of admiration. I must ask the landlady about him.