tropical for the birds in them parts; the larks sang early in the morning, and the dairy-maid sung sweetly as she deftly made "Brindle" "hist" and render "tit for tat" until she kicked over the milk pail, and then the pretty milk-maid sung out, "You dratted old crittur!" The lambs gambolled and frisked about the meadows, and occasionally we had one for dinner; but it wasn't the "little lamb that Mary had."
No objection was made to my staying as late as I pleased, provided I assisted in sticking beans, hoeing onions, and made myself generally useful. Sometimes I stayed rather late. The clock would strike eleven, and then my affinity would rise, saying she guessed she'd have to set the bread to rise. Whereupon I assured her that a little after eleven she could leaven the whole lump, and made her sit down again.
One night I rather "crowded the mourners." The clock struck one before it occurred to me that it was time to go. But next morning I made amends by sending her some or- iginal lines of my own composing, beginning— Will you come to the bower I have shingled for you? I've bought a prize pancake of gum to chew, Darling Maria—hoop-te-doo-der-doo. Once upon a time I dropped in by accident to spend the evening, and hinted that I would willingly be kissed for my mother, if my country's welfare demanded it. "Go to , young man," she said, for she was modest as well as classical.
"Nay, I would rather come twice, love," I made answer. And still I besought the coveted kiss, urging it upon her as a duty she owed to society, a duty to the government, a duty to—
"What in thunder do you take me for?" she asked.
"For better or for worse, my dear little tater-blossom. Come to these arms!" I cried, and at that moment her father, who had been standing conveniently near a partition door, entered with an iron poker in his hand and asked me if I was waiting for anything in part
