May I relate how the "Amenities" restored to me a long-lost sweetheart? It came about in this way. I received one day in my mail a letter from a lady, thus conceived:

DEAR SIR,-I I am wondering whether "The Amenities of Book-Collecting and Kindred Affections" would preclude the exchange of our handiwork! If not, I should be glad to forward copies of "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse " and "Mare Nostrum" in exchange for the "Amenities of BookCollecting," some chapters of which I greatly enjoyed when they appeared in the "Atlantic Monthly." With kind regards to those of your family who remember me, I am, very sincerely your old-time Rahway [N.J.] neighbor on the other side of the fence,

CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN.

Of course, Lottie Brewster! We had known each other intimately as children; how stupid of me not to have remembered, when I had been reading everywhere of her translation of a novel selling as no novel has ever sold before.

I despatched the "Amenities" forthwith, saying that I was receiving far more than I gave,- which, indeed, was the case, for the inscriptions put the volumes high in the "association" class, and upon my next visit to New York I called on my old-time friend and we had a delightful hour together. In the course of our chat over old times, I said: "Lottie, perhaps you can tell me what has become of my friend Jennie

M. She was my first love. I remember our fond parting when, as a boy of thirteen, I went away to school. I remember, too, returning, still a boy, to find my sweetheart a young woman, with dresses much longer than those young women are wearing nowadays, and quite indifferent to me. I tried to awaken in her some spark of the old sentiment, but failed and knew that my heart was broken."

"Why," said Lottie, "Jennie is living in New York. I see her occasionally. She is rich, good-looking, and a widow. I am sure she would be glad to see you."

"I know nothing about that," I said; "but I am coming to New York very soon, to make an address at the Grolier Club on William Blake. It is a meeting of woman artists or woman sculptors, or something. There will be tea afterwards and cake; indeed, that will be the most enjoyable part of the affair. I shall be the only man, and for ten minutes a hero. I want Jennie to witness my triumph."

So it was arranged, and a few weeks later the party came off.

While I was reading my paper, I observed just in front of me a demure little lady, exquisitely gowned, her hair rather more than touched with gray; and at the end of my address I went forward.

"Jennie," I said, putting my arm around her.

"O Eddie, stop!" she cried, just as she did at parting more than forty years before.

Like causes still produce like effects. Invitations and counter-invitations followed in quick succession; and Carolyn Wells, hearing of what was going on,

signaled, "Wait a minute till I change my frock; I'm from Rahway, too."

And Carolyn Wells's presence resulted in such goings-on that I began to wonder whether the byproduct of authorship was not the best part of it.

And out of the shadow of the years long past rose Van Antwerp, formerly Willie, also of Rahway, my oldest friend, who, almost fifty years ago, was always to be found playing in my back-yard when I was not playing in his. Tired of beating and being beaten up in Wall Street, he had retired with the substantial fragments of several fortunes, to spend his declining years (and may they be many) in content and California, to which he invited me.

In the midst of the renewal of old associations and the making of a host of new acquaintances, I discovered that I was not in very robust health. This is not my own discovery. I paid a physician a handsome fee for making it. His advice was: "Go slow. You have been pelting along for forty years; it's time to relax. Let someone else do your work. You have a hearty son in business let him work; and your partner. He impressed me as a very forceful fellow; he will probably be glad to have his own way a little more than he can when you are around. Give him his head. It is a great mistake you business men make of thinking that no one can take your place. I have no doubt that there are half a dozen men in your office who can do your work better than you do. How about smoking," he continued; "how many cigars ?"

To this I replied: "Doctor, there are some things too sacred for words, there are some things that men do not tell even their wives; but, in point of fact, I have always smoked in moderation, never more than one cigar at a time; three after breakfast, four after lunch

"That will do; that accounts for much. We will omit the cigars after breakfast entirely, and hereafter your limit will be one after lunch and one after dinner; on holidays, birthdays, and the like, you may smoke two after dinner-mild ones. No more excesses of any kind. Do not run for trains, and do not climb steps unnecessarily. What exercise do you take?"

"Very little," I replied, "I am of Joe Chamberlain's opinion that to walk downstairs in the morning and upstairs at night is enough exercise for any gentle

"A little extreme," said my physician, "but not bad advice for you; and when you sit, keep your feet up."

"On the mantelpiece?" I inquired.

"I said no excesses," replied the physician; "the table will do. Lessen the pull on your heart-muscle. Do not play more than nine holes of golf on a flat

"How about the nineteenth hole?" I said.

"Well," said he, "with whiskey at twenty dollars a bottle, you will not be likely to play that hole to excess. You do not look as if you ever had. Don't worry, avoid excitement, and keep your mind occu

pied. Take up reading. Did n't someone tell me that you had written a book? Write another one, a long one, and then go to Europe, where the criticisms of it will not annoy you. My prophecy is that you will live to be a disagreeable old man. Take these pills three times a day, and come to see me in a month. Good-morning."

And as I exited, another victim entered, and was received with the same sympathetic interest.

"This is just what the doctor ordered,” I said, as I rolled away from his door in my motor. I sat back, put my feet up, and tried to feel a superannuated man, and made a failure of it. "Let someone else do your work!" What music was in these words! "Write a book!" What fun! "Go to Europe!" more fun! I always said I was lucky, and for once my friends agree with me.