across
the street, his mahogany charmer in the Wagnerian Plaids had
disappeared from view.

With a sigh at his latest misfortune he returned home for another hat,
and the agitated wash-lady, imagining that the devil had doubtless been
lured by her beautiful gown, made haste to sell it to a Chinaman who
lived next door.

Its bright colors pleased the Chink, who ripped it up and made it over
into a Chinese robe, with flowing draperies falling to his heels. He
dressed himself in his new costume and, being proud of possessing such
finery, sat down on a bench outside his door so that everyone passing
by could see how magnificent he looked.

It was here the wandering Woggle-Bug espied him; and, recognizing at
once the pattern and colors of his infatuating idol, he ran up and sat
beside the Chinaman, saying in agitated but educated tones:

"Oh my prismatic personification of gigantic gorgeousness!--again I
have found you!"

"Sure tling," said the Chink with composure.

"Be mine! Only be mine!" continued the enraptured Woggle-Bug.

The Chinaman did not quite understand.

"Two dlolla a day," he answered, cautiously.

"Oh, joy," exclaimed the insect in delight; "I can then own you for a
day and a half--for I have three dollars left. May I feel your
exquisite texture, my dearest Fabric?"

"No flabic. No feelee. You too flesh. I _man_ Chinaman!" returned the
Oriental calmly.

"Never mind that! 'Tis your beautiful garment I love. Every check in
that entrancing dress is a joy and a delight to my heart!"

While the Woggle-Bug thus raved, the Chinaman's wife (who was Mattie De
Forest before she married him) heard the conversation, and decided this
love affair had gone far enough. So she suddenly appeared with a
broomstick, and with it began pounding the Woggle-Bug as fiercely as
possible--and Mattie was no weakling, I assure you.

The first blow knocked the Insect's hat so far over his eyes that he
was blinded; but, resolving not to be again cheated out of his darling,
he grasped firmly hold of the Wagnerian plaids with all four hands, and
tore a goodly portion of it from the frightened Celestial's body.

Next moment he was dashing down the street, with the precious cloth
tucked securely underneath an arm, and Mattie, being in slight
dishabile, did not think best to follow him.

The triumphant joy of the Woggle-Bug can well be imagined. No more need
he chase the fleeting vision of his love--no more submit to countle