ters for the first time should have felt strongly inclined to
regard them in a comic light; or that the mere mention of their names
should have unfailingly brought a smile to the faces of those to whom
their peculiarities were known!

The boys of the Grammar School, which was situated in a neighbouring
street, had, from time immemorial, furnished Tommy and John Dudgeon with
an epithet accommodated from classic lore, and dubbed them, "the _little_
Twin Brethren."

CHAPTER VI.

THE FATHER'S QUEST.

When Aunt Jemima came home, she was surprised, in no small degree, at the
absence of Marian. With gathering indignation she called up the stairs,
then searched the house, and finally presented herself before her brother,
who was quite alone in his workshop, and sat calmly working on his stool.

"Then she is not here?"

"Who? Marian?" responded "Cobbler" Horn in no accent of concern, looking
up for a moment from his work. "No, I thought she was with you."

"No; I left her in the room for a moment, and now she is nowhere to be
found."

There seemed to "Cobbler" Horn no reason for alarm, and, as his sister
returned to the kitchen, he quietly went on with his work. But Aunt
Jemima's mind was ill at ease. Once more she searched the house, and
called and called again. There was no response, and the silence which
followed was profound and ominous. Swiftly she passed, with growing
alarm, through her brother's workshop, and out into the yard. A glance
around, and then a closer search; but still no sign of the missing child.
The perturbed woman re-entered her brother's presence, and stood before
him, erect and rigid, and with outstretched hands.

"The child's gone!" was her gloomy exclamation.

"Gone!" echoed "Cobbler" Horn blankly, looking up. "Where?"

"I don't know; but she's gone quite away, and may never come back."

Then "Cobbler" Horn perceived that his sister was alarmed; and,
notwithstanding the occasion, he was comforted by the unwonted tenderness
she had expressed. As for Marian, he knew her for a born rambler; and it
was not the first time she had strayed from home.

"Perhaps," he said placidly, "she has gone to the little shop over the
way."

Then he resumed his work, as though he had simply told his sister where
she would be likely to find her spectacles.

Aunt Jemima took the hint, as a drowning person catches at a straw. She
made her way to the