yed
my chimney, and found no reason to believe any unsoundness; in short,
any--any secret closet in it. Would you be so kind, Mr. Scribe?"

"But, but, sir," stammered he with honest hesitation.

"Here, here are pen and paper," said I, with entire assurance.

Enough.

That evening I had the certificate framed and hung over the dining-room
fireplace, trusting that the continual sight of it would forever put at
rest at once the dreams and stratagems of my household.

But, no. Inveterately bent upon the extirpation of that noble old
chimney, still to this day my wife goes about it, with my daughter
Anna's geological hammer, tapping the wall all over, and then holding
her ear against it, as I have seen the physicians of life insurance
companies tap a man's chest, and then incline over for the echo.
Sometimes of nights she almost frightens one, going about on this
phantom errand, and still following the sepulchral response of the
chimney, round and round, as if it were leading her to the threshold of
the secret closet.

"How hollow it sounds," she will hollowly cry. "Yes, I declare," with an
emphatic tap, "there is a secret closet here. Here, in this very spot.
Hark! How hollow!"

"Psha! wife, of course it is hollow. Who ever heard of a solid chimney?"
But nothing avails. And my daughters take after, not me, but their
mother.

Sometimes all three abandon the theory of the secret closet and return
to the genuine ground of attack--the unsightliness of so cumbrous a
pile, with comments upon the great addition of room to be gained by its
demolition, and the fine effect of the projected grand hall, and the
convenience resulting from the collateral running in one direction and
another of their various partitions. Not more ruthlessly did the Three
Powers partition away poor Poland, than my wife and daughters would fain
partition away my chimney.

But seeing that, despite all, I and my chimney still smoke our pipes,
my wife reoccupies the ground of the secret closet, enlarging upon
what wonders are there, and what a shame it is, not to seek it out and
explore it.

"Wife," said I, upon one of these occasions, "why speak more of that
secret closet, when there before you hangs contrary testimony of a
master mason, elected by yourself to decide. Besides, even if there
were a secret closet, secret it should remain, and secret it shall.
Yes, wife, here for once I must say my say. Infinite sad mischief has
resulted from the pr