been my boy, and not you!"

Here, Master C. J. London fell a-crying more grievously than before,
sobbing, "Oh, ma! Master Wiseman with his red legs, your boy! Oh, oh,
oh!"

"Will you be quiet," returned Mrs. Bull, "and let your poor father rest?
I am ashamed of you. _You_ to go and play with a parcel of sentimental
girls, and dandy boys! Is _that_ your bringing up?"

"I didn't know they were fond of Master Wiseman," protested Master C. J.
London, still crying.

"You didn't know, sir!" retorted Mrs. Bull "Don't tell me! Then you
ought to have known. Other people knew. You were told often enough, at
the time, what it would come to. You didn't want a ghost, I suppose, to
warn you that when they got to candlesticks, they'd get to candles; and
that when they got to candles, they'd get to lighting 'em; and that when
they began to put their shirts on outside, and to play at monks and
friars, it was as natural that Master Wiseman should be encouraged to
put on a pair of red-stockings, and a red hat, and to commit I don't
know what other Tom-fooleries and make a perfect Guy Fawkes of himself
in more ways than one. Is it because you are a Bull, that you are not to
be roused till they shake scarlet close to your very eyes?" said Mrs.
Bull indignantly.

Master C. J. London still repeating "Oh, oh, oh!" in a very plaintive
manner, screwed his knuckles into his eyes until there appeared
considerable danger of his screwing his eyes out of his head. But,
little John (who though of a spare figure was a very spirited boy),
started up from the little bench on which he sat; gave Master C. J.
London a hearty pat on the back (accompanied, however, with a slight
poke in the ribs); and told him that if Master Wiseman, or Young
England, or any of those fellows, wanted any thing for himself, he
(little John) was the boy to give it him. Hereupon, Mrs. Bull, who was
always proud of the child, and always had been, since his measure was
first taken for an entirely new suit of clothes to wear in Commons,
could not refrain from catching him up on her knee and kissing him with
great affection, while the whole family expressed their delight in
various significant ways.

"You are a noble boy, little John," said Mrs. Bull, with a mother's
pride, "and that's the fact, after every thing is said and done!"

"I don't know about that, ma;" quoth little John, whose blood was
evidently up; "but if these chaps and their backers, the Bulls of
Rome--"