across the gas and was blazing. If I had been in our own house
I would just have rushed out screaming, but when you're away from home
you've more feeling of responsibility and I just stood on a chair and
pulled at the curtain till I brought it down and stamped on it. My hands
were all scorched, and of course the curtain was beyond hope, but when
the doctor saw it, he said, 'Teenie,' he said--his mither and ours were
cousins, you know--'you're just a wee marvel.' That was what he said--'a
wee marvel.'"

Jean said, "You _were_ brave," and one of the guests said that presence
of mind was a wonderful thing, and then the next act was ready.

The word had evidently something to do with eating, for the three actors
sat at a Barmecide feast and quaffed wine from empty goblets, and carved
imaginary haunches of venison. So far as could be judged from the
conversation, which was much obscured by the smothered laughter of the
actors, they seemed to belong to Robin Hood's merry men.

The third act took place on board ship--a ship flying the Jolly
Roger--and it was obvious to the meanest intelligence that the word was
pirate.

"Very good," said Miss Teenie, clapping her hands; "but," addressing the
Mhor, "don't you go lighting any more funeral pyres. Boys who do that
have to go to jail."

Mhor looked coldly at her, but made no remark, while Jean said hastily:

"You must show everyone your wonderful present, Mhor. I think the hall
would be the best place to put it up in."

The second part of the programme was of a varied character. Jean led off
with the old carol:

"There comes a ship far sailing then,
St. Michael was the steersman,"

and Mhor followed with a poem, "In Time of Pestilence," which had
captivated his strange small boy's soul, and which he had learned for
the occasion. Everyone felt it to be singularly inappropriate, and Miss
Watson said it gave her quite a turn to hear the relish with which he
knolled out:

"Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death's bitterness:
Hell's executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply!
I am sick, I must die--
God have mercy on us."

She regarded him with disapproving eyes as a thoroughly uncomfortable
character.

One of the guests sang a drawing-room ballad in which the words "dear
heart" seemed to occur with astonishing frequency. Then the
entertainment took a distinctly lower turn.

David and Jock sang a song composed by themselve