The Europeans

Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - A narrow grave-yard in the heart of a bustling indifferent city seen from the windows of a gloomy-looking inn is at no time an object of enlivening suggestion; and the spectacle is not at its best when the mouldy tombstones and funereal umbrage have received the ineffectual refreshment of a dull moist snow-fall. If while the air is thickened by this frosty drizzle the calendar should happen to indicate that the blessed vernal season is already six weeks old it will be admitted that no depressing influence is absent from the scene. This fact was keenly felt on a certain 12th of May upwards of thirty years since by a lady who stood looking out of one of the windows of the best hotel in the ancient city of Boston. She had stood there for half an hour - stood there that is at intervals; for from time to time she turned back into the room and measured its length with a restless step. In the chimney-place was a red-hot fire which emitted a small blue flame; and in front of the fire at a table sat a young man who was busily plying a pencil. He had a number of sheets of paper cut into small equal squares and he was apparently covering them with pictorial designs - strange-looking figures. He worked rapidly and attentively sometimes threw back his head and held out his drawing at arm's-length and kept up a soft gay-sounding humming and whistling.