iringly.

"I think I know a pirate when I see one," he returned loftily. "But, oh I
say, wouldn't Mrs. Handsomebody be waxy if she knew?"

"An' wouldn't Mary Ellen be scared stiff if _she_ knew?"

"An' won't we have fun? Hurray!"

We rolled in ecstasy on the much-enduring bed.

We talked excitedly of the possibilities of such a wonderful and dangerous
friendship. And as it turned out, none of our imaginings equalled what
really happened.

The afternoon passed quickly. As the hands of our alarm clock neared the
hour of four we obliterated the traces of our sojourn on the bed as well as
we could, and, when Mrs. Handsomebody entered, she found us sitting in a
row on the three cane-bottomed chairs, on which we hung our clothes at
night.

The scolding she gave us was even longer and more humiliating to our
manhood than usual. She shook her hard white finger near our faces and said
that for very little she would write to our father and complain of our
actions.

"Now," she said, in conclusion, "give your faces and hands a thorough
washing and comb your hair, which is disgraceful; then come quietly down to
tea." The door closed behind her.

"What beats me," said Angel, lathering his hands, "is why that wart on her
chin wiggles so when she jaws us! I can't keep my eyes off it."

"It wiggles," piped The Seraph, as he dragged a brush over his curls, "'cos
it's nervous, an' I wiggle when she scolds too, 'cos _I'm_ nervous."

"Don't you worry, old man," Angel responded, gaily, "we'll take care of
you."

We were in fine spirits despite our scolding. Indeed, we almost pitied Mrs.
Handsomebody for her ignorance of the wonders amongst which she had her
being.

Here she was, fussing over some stuffed birds in a glass case, when a live
starling, who could talk, had perched near her very window sill! She spent
hours in conversation with her Unitarian minister, while a real pirate
lived next door.

It was pitiful, and yet it was very funny. We found it hard to go quietly
down to tea with such thoughts in our minds, and after five hours in our
bedroom.

IV

The next day was Sunday.

As we sat at dinner with Mrs. Handsomebody after morning service, we were
scarcely conscious of the large, white dumplings that bulged before us,
with a delicious sticky sweet sauce, trickling down their dropsical sides.
We plied our spoons with languid interest around their outer edges, as
calves nibble around a straw stack. Our vagrant