"Mithter Bell told Daddy at dinner, and I heard him over the banisters, and they all laughed and he had to tell it again. I think it was:—
"Gregory Greatorex Bell,
Sat on the trap-door of—well—
I know Satan came
And troubled the wame,
Of Gregory Greatorex Bell."
"Very interesting," said Desdemona. "We'll be married at once."
"Shall we, Papa?" she inquired, turning to the Dodge, or Dog, of Venice.
Venus protruded a pink tongue at surprising length, wagged his tail, and nearly yawned his head off.
"Papa smiled with pleasure at the idea of my having a wedding," interpreted Desdemona, "but he's very bored with you, Othello. . . . It's a pity, as he is going to live with us after we are married. Still it can't be wondered at, can it, because after all, you're only a Hubshi, aren't you, really, and most 'strornrally black."
Othello was. From head to foot, he was as black as ink, charcoal, blacking, burnt-cork and
