LESSON XXV.
Knock Again.—Child's Companion.
1. I remember having been sent, when I was a very little boy, with a message from my father to a particular friend of his, who resided in the suburbs of the town in which my parents then lived.
2. This gentleman occupied an old-fashioned house, the door of which was approached by a broad flight of stone steps of a semi-circular form. The brass knocker was an object of much interest to me, in those days; for the whim of the maker had led him to give it the shape of an elephant's head, the trunk of the animal being the movable portion.
3. Away, then, I scampered, in great haste; and having reached the house, ran up the stone steps as usual; and, seizing the elephant's trunk, made the house reëcho to my knocking. No answer was returned.
4. At this my astonishment was considerable, as the servants, in the times I write of, were more alert and attentive than they are at present. However, I knocked a second time. Still no one came.
5. At this I was much more surprised. I looked at the house. It presented no appearance of a desertion. Some of the windows were open to admit the fresh air, for it was summer; others of them were closed. But all had the aspect of an inhabited dwelling.
6. I was greatly perplexed; and looked around, to see if any one was near who could advise me how to act. Immediately a venerable old gentleman, whom I had never seen before, came across the way, and, looking kindly in my face, advised me to knock again.
7. I did so without a moment's hesitation, and presently the door was opened, so that I had an opportunity of delivering my message. I afterward learned that the servants had been engaged in removing a heavy piece of furniture from one part of the house to the other; an operation which required their united strength, and prevented them from opening the door.
