"I heard a great noise, and I thought sumfin dreffle might have happened, so I came to see."
"Did you think I would forget you, naughty boy?" asked his mother, trying to look stern.
"No; but I thought you'd feel better to see me right here," responded the insinuating little party.
"I had much rather see you in bed, so march straight up again, Robin."
"Everybody that comes in here has to tell a story, and you can't, so you'd better cut and run," said Emil.
"Yes, I can! I tell Teddy lots of ones, all about bears and moons, and little flies that say things when they buzz," protested Rob, bound to stay at any price.
"Tell one now, then, right away," said Dan, preparing to shoulder and bear him off.
"Well, I will; let me fink a minute," and Rob climbed into his mother's lap, where he was cuddled, with the remark—
"It is a family failing, this getting out of bed at wrong times. Demi used to do it; and as for me, I was hopping in and out all night long. Meg used to think the house was on fire, and send me down to see, and I used to stay and enjoy myself, as you mean to, my bad son."
"I've finked now," observed Rob, quite at his ease, and eager to win the entrée into this delightful circle.
Every one looked and listened with faces full of suppressed merriment as Rob, perched on his mother's knee and wrapped in the gay coverlet, told the following brief but tragic tale with an earnestness that made it very funny:—
"Once a lady had a million children, and one nice
