our way, without going down a single turning, bang to the Spanish main!"
We might have tried it, though I didn't think it would answer; only we looked around and saw that there was nothing but moonlight under the willow tree, and that our pretty, pretty wives were gone. We burst out crying. The colonel gave in second, and came to first; but he gave in strong
We were ashamed of our red eyes and hung about for half an hour to whiten them. Likewise a piece of chalk round the rims, I doing the colonel's, and he mine, but afterward found in the bedroom looking-glass not natural besides inflammation. Our conversation turned on being ninety. The colonel told me he had a pair of boots that wanted soling and heeling; but he thought it hardly worth while to mention it to his father, as he himself should so soon be ninety, when he thought shoes would be more convenient. The colonel also told me, with his hand upon his hip, that he felt himself already getting on in life, and turning rheumatic. And I told him the same. And when they said at our house at supper (they are always bothering about something) that I stooped, I felt so glad!
This is the end of the beginning-part that you were to believe most.
PART II.
ROMANCE. FROM THE PEN OF MISS ALICE RAINBIRD.[1]
There was once a king, and he had a queen; and he was the manliest of his sex, and she was the loveliest of hers. The king was, in his private profession, under government. The queen's father had been a medical man out of town.
They had nineteen children, and were always having more. Seventeen of these children took care of the baby; and Alicia, the eldest, took care of them all. Their ages varied from seven years to seven months.
Let us now resume our story.
- ↑ Aged seven.
