Why is it that gentlemen who possess this ornamental appendage to their upper lip persist in using it so unkindly?  You see it at all times and in all places, at home by their own fireside, in church, when the sermon is supposed to be occupying their attention, on the streets, in fact everywhere you will see the moustache undergoing torture at the hands of its possessor.  Some merely smooth it out, or daintily curl the ends of it, if it happens to be long enough; some lick at it, like an animal at a lump of salt:  some chew it savagely, till you wonder there is a hair of it left; in fact it is badly misused by the majority of men, for few leave it to serve its legitimate purpose.

After tea, at Mr. Maxwell’s suggestion, the party went out for a walk.  They strolled up and down the principal streets until twilight was almost over, and their first impression of the place was happily dispelled.  They were willing to accord the same praise to the town as did others who had visited it.  Cleanliness and thrift seemed the characteristics of the majority of the inhabitants, and the beautiful grounds and gardens that surrounded most of the houses spoke well for the taste of the owners.

When the time came for them to continue their journey, more than one member of the family regretted their departure, for their presence had quite brightened the household, and Dexie had won the approval of Mrs. Morris herself by her quick movements and practical remarks, and for the decided manner that refused all attentions from Maxwell.

“If you ever pass this way again you must come and see us,” said Mrs. Morris at parting, “and if any of your friends ever visit the town we will be happy to accommodate them.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Morris,” said Dexie; “I will not forget it.  We could hardly advise anyone to make an extended stay in your pretty town if they were obliged to patronize your hotels,” looking up with a smile at Mr. Maxwell, who was waiting to accompany them to the depot.

“I am afraid our hotels have given you a poor opinion of the place, Miss Sherwood,” said Mr. Maxwell, as he fingered his moustache; “but you must remember that they are not intended for fastidious young ladies, but for the accommodation of the general travelling public.”

“Then it does not speak well for the tastes of the ’general travelling public,’” replied Dexie, as they turned towards the depot, “and it is a pity that the one blot on your pretty town is just where it falls under the notice of strangers who enter it by the railway.”

Years after, when Dexie made her next visit to the town, she was surprised to see the change that had taken place in the vicinity of the railway station.  The gloomy, dingy depot had given place to one that was light, airy and commodious, and the unsightly buildings in the neighborhood were replaced by better and worthier structures.

The hotels she had so justly condemned were either obliterated or so improved upon as to be unrecognizable; and if the objectionable bar-rooms were not suppressed, public opinion had caused them to be placed in a more obscure corner of the building, and the respectable stranger was no longer insulted by their immediate presence.  But of this more anon.