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The Europeans

tall iron railing protected them from the street, and on the other side of
the railing an assemblage of Bostonians were trampling about in the li-
quid snow. Many of them were looking up and down; they appeared to
be waiting for something. From time to time a strange vehicle drew near
to the place where they stood,Ñsuch a vehicle as the lady at the window,
in spite of a considerable acquaintance with human inventions, had nev-
er seen before: a huge, low omnibus, painted in brilliant colors, and dec-
orated apparently with jangling bells, attached to a species of groove in
the pavement, through which it was dragged, with a great deal of rum-
bling, bouncing and scratching, by a couple of remarkably small horses.
When it reached a certain point the people in front of the grave-yard, of
whom much the greater number were women, carrying satchels and par-
cels, projected themselves upon it in a compact bodyÑa movement sug-
gesting the scramble for places in a life-boat at seaÑand were engulfed
in its large interior. Then the life-boatÑor the life-car, as the lady at the
window of the hotel vaguely designated itÑwent bumping and jingling
away upon its invisible wheels, with the helmsman (the man at the
wheel) guiding its course incongruously from the prow. This phenomen-
on was repeated every three minutes, and the supply of eagerly-moving
women in cloaks, bearing reticules and bundles, renewed itself in the
most liberal manner. On the other side of the grave-yard was a row of
small red brick houses, showing a series of homely, domestic-looking
backs; at the end opposite the hotel a tall wooden church-spire, painted
white, rose high into the vagueness of the snow-flakes. The lady at the
window looked at it for some time; for reasons of her own she thought it
the ugliest thing she had ever seen. She hated it, she despised it; it threw
her into a state of irritation that was quite out of proportion to any sens-
ible motive. She had never known herself to care so much about church-
She was not pretty; but even when it expressed perplexed irritation
her face was most interesting and agreeable. Neither was she in her first
youth; yet, though slender, with a great deal of extremely well-fashioned
roundness of contourÑa suggestion both of maturity and flexibil-
ityÑshe carried her three and thirty years as a light-wristed Hebe might
have carried a brimming wine-cup. Her complexion was fatigued, as the
French say; her mouth was large, her lips too full, her teeth uneven, her
chin rather commonly modeled; she had a thick nose, and when she
smiledÑshe was constantly smilingÑthe lines beside it rose too high, to-
ward her eyes. But these eyes were charming: gray in color, brilliant,
quickly glancing, gently resting, full of intelligence. Her forehead was