d never been broken. She reigned over his wives when living, and
reigned after them when dead, and so seemed likely to reign on to the
end of the chapter. But my uncle's latest wife left Aunt Betsey a much
less tractable subject than ever before had fallen to her lot. Little
Edward was the child of my uncle's old age, and a brighter, merrier
little blossom never grew on the verge of an avalanche. He had been
committed to the nursing of his grandmamma till he had arrived at the
age of _in_discretion, and then my old uncle's heart so yearned for him
that he was sent for home.

His introduction into the family excited a terrible sensation. Never was
there such a condemner of dignities, such a violator of high places and
sanctities, as this very Master Edward. It was all in vain to try to
teach him decorum. He was the most outrageously merry elf that ever
shook a head of curls; and it was all the same to him whether it was
"_Sabba' day_" or any other day. He laughed and frolicked with every
body and every thing that came in his way, not even excepting his solemn
old father; and when you saw him, with his fair arms around the old
man's neck, and his bright blue eyes and blooming cheek peering out
beside the bleak face of Uncle Abel, you might fancy you saw spring
caressing winter. Uncle Abel's metaphysics were sorely puzzled by this
sparkling, dancing compound of spirit and matter; nor could he devise
any method of bringing it into any reasonable shape, for he did mischief
with an energy and perseverance that was truly astonishing. Once he
scoured the floor with Aunt Betsey's very Scotch snuff; once he washed
up the hearth with Uncle Abel's most immaculate clothes brush; and once
he was found trying to make Bose wear his father's spectacles. In short,
there was no use, except the right one, to which he did not put every
thing that came in his way.

But Uncle Abel was most of all puzzled to know what to do with him on
the Sabbath, for on that day Master Edward seemed to exert himself to be
particularly diligent and entertaining.

"Edward! Edward must not play Sunday!" his father would call out; and
then Edward would hold up his curly head, and look as grave as the
catechism; but in three minutes you would see "pussy" scampering through
the "best room," with Edward at her heels, to the entire discomposure of
all devotion in Aunt Betsey and all others in authority.

At length my uncle came to the conclusion that "it wasn't i