The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. . An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. "Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams.
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