The Tristate is on alert after a rash of home burglaries.

Heat burned in my cheeks, for I had kissed the opia quite passionately before I realized he was the spirit of a dead ancestor.

To describe it is quite impossible, but, though there was a good deal of tossing of legs and double-shuffling, it seemed to our untutored minds to be more of a play than a dance[.]

London, November 7, 1857. / Dear E., / […] In the evening, Miss Mitchell, our astronomeress was there, and we had a good chat about mutual friends, &c. She is here for a year or so. I hope to meet her again in Rome. […] / Yours, sincerely, / T. A. TEFFT.