The things we do!

And if Clive had been a vain fellow
like some folks, who knows but he might have thought he had made an
impression on the handsome Julia?
"Thursday, now make it Thursday, if Mr. H. is disengaged. Come along,
girls, for the flies bites the ponies when they're a-standing still and
makes 'em mad this weather. Anything you like for dinner? Cut of salmon
and cucumber? No, pickled salmon's best this weather."
"Whatever you give me, you know I'm thankful!" says Honeyman, in a sweet
sad voice, to the two ladies, who were standing looking at him, the
mother's hand clasped in the daughter's.
"Should you like that Mendelssohn for the Sunday after next? Julia sings
it splendid!"
"No, I don't, ma."
"You do, dear! She's a good, good dear, Mr. H., that's what she is."
"You must not call--a--him, in that way. Don't say Mr. H., ma," says
Julia.
"Call me what you please!" says Charles, with the most heart-rending
simplicity; and Mrs. Sherrick straightway kisses her daughter.


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