at umbrella
you've got in your hand?"

* * * * *

A person more remarkable for inquisitiveness than good-breeding--one of
those who, devoid of delicacy and reckless of rebuff, pry into
everything--took the liberty to question Alexander Dumas rather closely
concerning his genealogical tree.

"You are a quadroon, Mr. Dumas?" he began.

"I am, sir," replied M. Dumas, who had seen enough not to be ashamed of
a descent he could not conceal.

"And your father?"

"Was a mulatto."

"And your grandfather?"

"A negro," hastily answered the dramatist, whose patience was waning.

"And may I inquire what your great-grandfather was?"

"An ape, sir," thundered Dumas, with a fierceness that made his
impertinent interrogator shrink into the smallest possible compass. "An
ape, sir; my pedigree commences where yours terminates."

* * * * *

"Where have you been, Helen?" asked Caroline Swift of her sister, as
Helen, with a package in one hand and some letters in the other, entered
the parlour one severe winter's day.

Caroline had been seated near the fire, sewing; but as her sister came
in with the package, up the little girl sprang; and, allowing cotton,
thimble, and work to find whatever resting-place they could, she hurried
across the room; and, without so much as "By your leave, sister," she
caught hold of the letters and commenced asking questions as fast as her
nimble tongue could move.

"Which question shall I answer first?" asked Helen, good-humouredly,
trying, as she spoke, to slip a letter out of sight.

"Tell me whose letter you are trying to hide there," cried Caroline,
making an effort to thrust her hand into her sister's pocket.

Helen held the pocket close, saying gravely, "Suppose I should tell you
that this letter concerns no one but myself, and that I prefer not to
name the writer?"

"Oh dear! some mighty mystery, no doubt. I didn't suppose there was any
harm in asking you a question."

Caroline's look and tone plainly indicated displeasure.

"There is harm, Caroline, in trying to pry into anything that you see
that another person wishes to keep to herself; for it shows a meddling
disposition, and is a breach of the command to do as you would be done
by."

"You're breaking that command yourself," retorted Caroline, "for you
won't let me see what I want to see."

"God's commands do not require us to forget our own rights. I am not
b