The failure of the morning’s orange-crop and the deficit in other expected residual delicacies were not very difficult to account for.  In many of the two-story Rockland families, and in those favored households of the neighboring villages whose members had been invited to the great party, there was a very general excitement among the younger people on the morning after the great event.  “Did y’ bring home somethin’ from the party?  What is it?  What is it?  Is it frut-cake?  Is it nuts and oranges and apples?  Give me some!  Give me some!” Such a concert of treble voices uttering accents like these had not been heard since the great Temperance Festival with the celebrated “colation” in the open air under the trees of the Parnassian Grove,—­as the place was christened by the young ladies of the Institute.  The cry of the children was not in vain.  From the pockets of demure fathers, from the bags of sharp-eyed spinsters, from the folded handkerchiefs of light-fingered sisters, from the tall hats of sly-winking brothers, there was a resurrection of the missing oranges and cakes and sugar-things in many a rejoicing family-circle, enough to astonish the most hardened “caterer” that ever contracted to feed a thousand people under canvas.

The tender recollections of those dear little ones whom extreme youth or other pressing considerations detain from scenes of festivity—­a trait of affection by no means uncommon among our thoughtful people—­dignifies those social meetings where it is manifested, and sheds a ray of sunshine on our common nature.  It is “an oasis in the desert,”—­to use the striking expression of the last year’s “Valedictorian” of the Apollinean Institute.  In the midst of so much that is purely selfish, it is delightful to meet such disinterested care for others.  When a large family of children are expecting a parent’s return from an entertainment, it will often require great exertions on his part to freight himself so as to meet their reasonable expectations.  A few rules are worth remembering by all who attend anniversary dinners in Faneuil Hall or elsewhere.  Thus:  Lobsters’ claws are always acceptable to children of all ages.  Oranges and apples are to be taken one at a time, until the coat-pockets begin to become inconveniently heavy.  Cakes are injured by sitting upon them; it is, therefore, well to carry a stout tin box of a size to hold as many pieces as there are children in the domestic circle.  A very pleasant amusement, at the close of one of these banquets, is grabbing for the flowers with which the table is embellished.  These will please the ladies at home very greatly, and, if the children are at the same time abundantly supplied with fruits, nuts, cakes, and any little ornamental articles of confectionery which are of a nature to be unostentatiously removed, the kind-hearted parent will make a whole household happy, without any additional expense beyond the outlay for his ticket.