. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. “I never dreamt!” she said. But, after some restoratives had been administered by Mrs. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. I told him the truth. Only after he had pushed himself completely inside was the friction lessened. Mr.
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