it adorned. The gruesome noise he was emitting did not really affect us otherwise than æsthetically. To one who has tried both, the wail of genuine physical anguish is easily distinguishable from the pumped-up ad misericordiam blubber. Harold's could clearly be recognised as belonging to the latter class. 'Now, you young—' (whelp, I think it was, but Edward stoutly maintains it was devil), said the curate sternly; 'tell us what you mean by it!'
'Well leggo of my ear then!' shrilled Harold, 'and I'll tell you the solemn truth!'
'Very well,' agreed the curate, releasing him, 'now go ahead: and don't lie more than you can help.'
We abode the promised disclosure without the least misgiving; but even we had hardly given Harold due credit for his fertility of resource and powers of imagination.
'I had just finished saying my prayers,' began that young gentleman, slowly, 'when I happened to look out of the window, and on the lawn I saw a sight which froze the marrow in my veins! A burglar was approaching the house with snake-like tread! He had a scowl and a dark lantern, and he was armed to the teeth!'
