“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a place. Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to the front windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and the small boys were stamping around like an army come to take the house. Seeing me they all shouted something at me. They seemed so terribly in earnest, and came in such a strange way, that I flew down, sure something dreadful had happened—perhaps Willy was drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight of me at the door they all shouted again, but I did not understand. I caught hold of the biggest boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, in a low, tremulous voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a bashful way, ‘Mr. Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ I said.
“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, though I shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of brown paper having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace drafts are open.’ Such a shout as went up from us!
“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short time afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry Snow, it seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. He was then just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He mentioned it to her and she had him drive round with the message.
“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at the approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our piazza we bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went down upon the floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for that?’
“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat the woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of her heart she left her work and came all the way over!
“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my dear Miss Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not forget to shut the drafts!”
Miss Fillissy-Follissy.
A SLUMBER SONG.
1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er;