He beamed as she whispered to 22 him that she had seen a table so fine or tasted such wonders. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. But Melusine was a little inclined to like this side of the major. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms.
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