easons
Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs, and the four olive Kenwigses, and the baby, were
considered quite important persons to know.

Upon the eighth anniversary of Mrs. Kenwigs' marriage to Mr. Kenwigs,
they entertained a select party of friends, and on that occasion, after
supper had been served, the group gathered by the fireside; Mr.
Lillyvick being stationed in a large arm-chair, and the four little
Kenwigses disposed on a small form in front of the company, with their
flaxen tails towards them, and their faces to the fire; an arrangement
which was no sooner perfected than Mrs. Kenwigs was overpowered by the
feelings of a mother, and fell upon Mr. Kenwigs' shoulder, dissolved
in tears.

"They are so beautiful!" she said, sobbing. "I can--not help it, and it
don't signify! Oh, they're too beautiful to live--much too beautiful!"

On hearing this alarming presentiment of their early death, all four
little girls raised a hideous cry, and, burying their faces in their
mother's lap simultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails
vibrated; Mrs. Kenwigs meanwhile clasping them alternately to her bosom,
with attitudes expressive of distraction.

At length, however, she permitted herself to be soothed, and the little
Kenwigses were distributed among the company, to prevent the possibility
of Mrs. Kenwigs being again overcome by the blaze of their united
beauty, after which, Morleena, the eldest olive branch--whose name had
been composed by Mrs. Kenwigs herself for the especial benefit of her
daughter--danced a dance. It was a very beautiful figure, comprising a
great deal of work for the arms, and was received with unbounded
applause, as were the various accomplishments displayed by others of the
party. The affair was proceeding most successfully when Mr. Lillyvick
took offence at a remark made by Mr. Kenwigs, and sat swelling and
fuming in offended dignity for some minutes, then burst out in words of
indignation. Here was an untoward event! The great man,--the rich
relation--who had it in his power to make Morleena an heiress, and the
very baby a legatee--was offended. Gracious powers, where would
this end!

"I am very sorry, sir," said Mr. Kenwigs humbly, but the apology was not
accepted, and Mr. Lillyvick continued to repeat; "Morleena, child, my
hat! Morleena, my hat!" until Mrs. Kenwigs sunk back in her chair,
overcome with grief, while the four little girls (privately instructed
to that effect) clasped their uncle's d