his performance. I think that Johnnyboy for the time enjoyed
this companionship, yet without the least affectation or
self-consciousness--so long as it was unobtrusive. It so chanced,
however, that the Rev. Mr. Belcher, a gentleman with bovine lightness
of touch, and a singular misunderstanding of childhood, chose to
presume upon his paternal functions. Approaching the high chair in which
Johnnyboy was dyspeptically reflecting, with a ponderous wink at the
other guests, and a fat thumb and forefinger on Johnnyboy's table, he
leaned over him, and with slow, elephantine playfulness said:--

"And so, my dear young friend, I understand that 'mik makes you
sick--mik does.'"

Anything approaching to the absolute likeness of this imitation of
Johnnyboy's accents it is impossible to conceive. Possibly Johnnyboy
felt it. But he simply lifted his lovely lashes, and said with great
distinctness:--

"Mik don't--you devil!"

After this, closely as it had knitted us together, Johnnyboy's morning
presence was mysteriously withdrawn. It was later pointed out to us by
Mr. Belcher, upon the veranda, that, although Wealth had its privileges,
it was held in trust for the welfare of Mankind, and that the children
of the Rich could not too early learn the advantages of Self-restraint
and the vanity of a mere gratification of the Senses. Early and frequent
morning ablutions, brisk morning toweling, half of a Graham biscuit in
a teacup of milk, exercise with the dumb-bells, and a little
rough-and-tumble play in a straw hat, check apron, and overalls would
eventually improve that stamina necessary for his future Position, and
repress a dangerous cerebral activity and tendency to give way to--He
suddenly stopped, coughed, and absolutely looked embarrassed. Johnnyboy,
a moving cloud of white pique, silk, and embroidery, had just turned
the corner of the veranda. He did not speak, but as he passed raised
his blue-veined lids to the orator. The look of ineffable scorn and
superiority in those beautiful eyes surpassed anything I had ever seen.
At the next veranda column he paused, and, with his baby thumbs inserted
in his silk sash, again regarded him under his half-dropped lashes as
if he were some curious animal, and then passed on. But Belcher was
silenced for the second time.

I think I have said enough to show that Johnnyboy was hopelessly
worshiped by an impressible and illogical sex. I say HOPELESSLY, for
he slipped equally from the pro