ide the shaggy hair of the animal, to which it
had belonged, was lined with flannel. Thus nestled into a warm hole, I
read on until a shout arrested me and brought me suddenly back from the
hills of bonny Scotland to the frozen wilderness.

"I say," shouted Lumley at the back of the door, which he saluted with a
kick, "my sister is married!"

"Poor thing!" said I. "Who to?"

"Open the door."

"I can't. I'm in bed."

"You must."

"I won't."

"No! then here goes."

He retired as he spoke, and, making a rush, launched himself against my
door, which, however, withstood the shock.

"Here, Spooner," I then heard him say, "lend a hand; let us go at it
together."

They went at it together. The lock gave way; the chest of drawers went
spinning to the other side of the room, and Lumley tumbled over Spooner
as both fell headlong to the floor.

As this was by no means an unfamiliar mode of entering each other's
rooms, I took no notice of it, but proceeded to inquire about the
married sister; and Lumley, sitting down on my bed with Spooner, for
neither of them had yet undressed, began to tell me of home and friends
with as much eagerness as if I had been a member of both families.
Young Spooner interrupted Lumley now and then when a touch of
coincidence struck him with reference to his own family affairs, and I
could not resist the pleasure of occasionally making some such remark
as, "How odd! that's very like what happened to my little brother Bob,"
etcetera, whereupon Spooner would immediately become excited and draw a
parallel more or less striking in regard to his own kindred and so we
went on far into the night, until we got our several families mixed up
to such an extent that it became almost impossible to disentangle them;
for, being three families, you know, we became inextricably confused as
to which was which, though each was perfectly clear in regard to his
own! Thus, to me, Jane Lumley became confused with Janet Spooner, so
that Janet Lumley and Jane Spooner were always tripping over each other
in my brain, while my dear cousin Maggie Maxby became a Maggie Spooner
to Lumley, and a Maggie Lumley to Spooner, and to each sometimes a Janet
or a Jane respectively. If the reader will multiply into this question
two mothers and three fathers, four brothers and six sisters, besides
numberless aunts, uncles, and cousins, male and female, he will easily
perceive how between mental perplexity and a tendency to