alisman or distant music; it soothed her,
and made her in a measure forget her pain.

Sallie heard only the groan, and coming softly to the bed, she
whispered: "Dear mamma, did we talk too loud? I meant to be as moute as
a muce. I mean as mute as a mouse."

Her mother laughed again at this funny mistake; she could not help it,
and Sallie laughed too, and said, "That was a mistake, you know; I had a
kink in my tongue; I do believe it must have been twisted like a
corkscrew. It is all right now, isn't it, mamma?" and Sallie ran her
tongue out till you could nearly see the roots, and it seemed quite
wonderful where she kept it all, and that it did not get worn out with
all the hard work and exercise she gave it; but I suppose some people's
tongues are like dogs' tails, they like to show how happy they are by
keeping up a continual wagging.

"Shall we go into the next room and play there?" asked Sallie; "we will
be so still you will think the very chairs and tables are taking a nap;
we will be like the mummies in the _cats' combs_, and I should like
very much to know what a _cats' comb_ is, and how a mummy can be buried
in it."

"You mean _cacatombs_," laughed little Fanny. "Papa says they are either
taverns or caverns--I forget which he said--in Egypt, where they bury
the mummies."

"You must call it _catacombs_, my dear little girls; they are large
caverns, not taverns: a mummy in a tavern would frighten all the idlers
and ragamuffins out of it. I don't know but what it would be a good
plan, but you two dear little twisters and turners of the king's English
would frighten that cranky old fellow, Dr. Johnson, into a long
sickness, if he was only alive and could hear you. I love to hear you
talk; it does me good. Don't go out of the room, but take that pack of
cards I gave you to play with, and sit down on the floor and build card
houses."

The children thought this a capital idea. Down they sat in great glee,
and immediately commenced the business of building houses, their eyes
nearly starting out of their heads, in their anxiety to make houses
three stories high; but, spite of all their efforts, the moment they
attempted the third story, down would come all the cards with a flop,
leaving the builders with a long-sounding O--h, to stare at the ruins.

"The fact is," said Sallie, looking so wise and solemn you would have
thought she was an owl's granddaughter, at least, "the fact is, there is
one _peculiarrarity_ a