sn't. He has had a good deal of trial,
and the thunder of trouble has soured the milk of human kindness. When he
gets criticising Dr. Butterfield's sermons and books, I have sometimes to
pretend that I hear somebody at the front door, so that I can go out in the
hall and have an uproarious laugh without being indecorous. It is one of
the great amusements of my life to have on opposite sides of my tea-table
Dr. Butterfield and Mr. Givemfits.

But we have many others who come to our tea-table: Miss Smiley, who often
runs in about six o'clock. All sweetness is Miss Smiley. She seems to like
everybody, and everybody seems to like her. Also Miss Stinger, sharp as a
hornet, prides herself on saying things that cut; dislikes men; cannot bear
the sight of a pair of boots; loathes a shaving apparatus; thinks Eve would
have shown better capacity for housekeeping if she had, the first time she
used her broom, swept Adam out of Paradise. Besides these ladies, many
good, bright, useful and sensible people of all kinds. In a few days we
shall invite a group of them to tea, and you shall hear some of their
discussions of men and books and things. We shall order a canister of the
best Young Hyson, pull out the extension-table, hang on the kettle, stir
the blaze, and with chamois and silver-powder scour up the tea-set that we
never use save when we have company.

CHAPTER II.

MR. GIVEMFITS AND DR. BUTTERFIELD.

The tea-kettle never sang a sweeter song than on the evening I speak of. It
evidently knew that company was coming. At the appointed time our two
friends, Dr. Butterfield and Mr. Givemfits, arrived. As already intimated,
they were opposite in temperament--the former mild, mellow, fat,
good-natured and of fine digestion, always seeing the bright side of
anything; the other, splenetic, harsh, and when he swallowed anything was
not sure whether he would be the death of it, or it would be the death of
him.

No sooner had they taken their places opposite each other at the table than
conversation opened. As my wife was handing the tea over to Mr. Givemfits
the latter broke out in a tirade against the weather. He said that this
winter was the most unbearable that had ever been known in the almanacs.
When it did not rain, it snowed; and when it was not mud, it was sleet. At
this point he turned around and coughed violently, and said that in such
atmosphere it was impossible to keep clear of colds. He thought he would go
Sout