gray, and piercing. While he drank his tea he scarcely noticed my sister or myself, but conversed a little with our parents. I shall not recall their conversation, as it was only desultory and immaterial; but when we drew our chairs closer to the fire, and my father had placed some old journals on the table to be looked over, the old gentleman commenced his explanation in this way:
'Young lady and gentleman, you do not know who I am. You think, perhaps, that I am a visitor from another world, and I certainly bear that about me which might justify you in so thinking. But I am not so, and although I believe I have been in other worlds on short visits, I do not belong to them, having been born into this one, and not far from this very place, exactly ninety-five years ago. Did you ever hear of the great Bumblefuscus, who fought with, and destroyed, the enormous serpent which used to kill and eat five hundred men and women every day for five thousand years?'
My sister and I looked at each other in wonder and dismay, while our father and mother nearly laughed outright. At length I replied: 'No, sir ; but I have books that tell lies about St. George and the Dragon, and about Baron Munchausen, and I have "Gulliver's Travels."'
'Good books, nice books, for innocent boys and girls,' said the old gentleman. 'Well, I am not the great Bumblefuscus, but I am the little Oliver Ubertus, who once fought a battle with the great enemy of mankind—I am your father's grandfather, your great-grandfather. You know me now; come and kiss me, Bertha.'
Bertha ran and gave our venerable relative several hearty kisses, and embraced him with unfeigned affection. I also felt his trembling lips pressed to my forehead and cheek. The tears fell from his eyes. Our parents also had recourse to their handkerchiefs. Solemn silence reigned in our house
