Two little girls, of five and six years old, drew the numbers: and the prizes were duly proclaimed from the platform.
These prizes were numerous, though of small value.

It so fell out that Dr.John and I each gained one: mine was a cigar-case, his a lady's head-dress--a most airy sort of blue and silver turban, with a streamer of plumage on one side, like a snowy cloud.

He was excessively anxious to make an exchange; but I could not be brought to hear reason, and to this day I keep my cigar-case: it serves, when I look at it, to remind me of old times, and one happy evening.
Dr.John, for his part, held his turban at arm's length between his finger and thumb, and looked at it with a mixture of reverence and embarrassment highly provocative of laughter.

The contemplation over, he was about coolly to deposit the delicate fabric on the ground between his feet; he seemed to have no shadow of an idea of the treatment or stowage it ought to receive: if his mother had not come to the rescue, I think he would finally have crushed it under his arm like an opera-hat; she restored it to the band-box whence it had issued.
Graham was quite cheerful all the evening, and his cheerfulness seemed natural and unforced.

His demeanour, his look, is not easily described; there was something in it peculiar, and, in its way, original.