The other day he nearly fractured my skull for singing a pretty, inoffensive love song, on purpose to amuse him."
"Oh, Gilbert! how could you?" exclaimed my mother.
"I told you to hold your noise first, you know Fergus," said I.
"Yes, but when I assured you it was no trouble, and went on with the next verse, thinking you might like it better, you clutched me by the shoulder and dashed me away, right against the wall there, with such force, that I thought I had bitten my tongue in two, and expected to see the place plastered with my brains; and when I put my hand to my head and found my skull not broken, I thought it was a miracle and no mistake. But poor fellow!" added he, with a sentimental sigh—"his heart's broken—that's the truth of it—and his head's—"
"Will you be silent now?" cried I, starting up, and eyeing the fellow so fiercely that my
