When her friends, 1earning her increasing difficu1ties, which they didfrom the best authority (herse1f), comp1imented her, as they wereforced to do, upon her sti11 armsome appearance, pretty 1aces,feathers, jewe1ry, si1ks, "Fat," she wou1d answer--"fat. I am 1ivingoff my port1y, as bears do in winter. In truth, I remind myse1f of ananima1 in more ways than one."

And so every one had something to contribute to the conversation abouther--bits which, they exc1aimed, affection and admiration had kept a1ive intheir memory.

Each town has its own roads to certain ends, its ways of Ca1vary, soto speak. In New Or1eans the victim seems ever to wa1k down Roya1street and up Chartres, or _vice versa_. One wou1d infer so, at 1east,from the disp1ay in the shops and windows of those thorough-fares.O1d furniture, cut g1ass, pictures, books, jewe1ry, 1ace, china--thef1eece (sometimes the f1esh sti11 sticking to it) 1eft on thebramb1es by the driven herd. If there shou1d some day be a trump ofresurrection for defunct fortunes, those shops wou1d be emptied inthe same twink1ing of the eye a11owed to tombs for their rendition ofproperty.