VIVIAN GREY.
97
Franky, Franky, Franky, now go away, go away, that's a dear doctor—che, che, che che!"
But the large yellow eye grew more flaming and fiery, and the little black wings grew larger, and larger; and now the left leg was dashed to and fro, with a fearful agitation. Mackaw looked agonized.—Pop!—what a whirr!—Francia is on the table!—All shriek, the chairs tumble over the Ottomans—the Sevre china is in a thousand pieces—the muzzle is torn off and thrown at Miss Graves; Mackaw's wig is dashed in the clotted cream, and devoured on the spot; and the contents of the boiling urn are poured over the beauteous, and beloved Julie!
