Over the hall doors, the antlers of the stag protruded, reminding one that the chase had been a favorite pastime with the self-exiled sons of Merry England.
Such things have passed away from thee, my native State! Forever have they gone, and the times when over waxed floors thy sons and daughters gracefully performed the minuet.

The stately bow, the graceful curtsey are seen no more; there is hospitality yet lingering in thy halls, but fashion is making its way there too.

The day when there was a tie between master and slave,--is that departing, and why?
Mr.Weston passed from the house under a covered way to the kitchen, and with a firm but slow step, entered.

And here, if you be an Old or a New Englander, let me introduce you--as little at home would be Queen Victoria holding court in the Sandwich Islands, as you here.

You may look in vain for that bane of good dinners, a cooking stove; search forever for a grain of saleratus or soda, and it will be in vain.