'Well, I'll be shot if I guess any more—there are such thousands of them.'
'But there is only one Daily Delight,' said Mrs. Woodward.
'Nonsense!' said Charley. 'You don't mean to tell me that my dear old friend and foster-father has fallen foul of me—my old teacher and master, if not spiritual pastor; well—well—well! The ingratitude of the age! I gave him my two beautiful stories, the first-fruits of my vine, all for love; to think that he should now lay his treacherous axe to the root of the young tree—well, give it here.'
'No—mamma will read it—we want Harry to hear it.'
'O yes—let Mrs. Woodward read it,' said Harry. 'I trust it is severe. I know no man who wants a dragging over the coals more peremptorily than you do.'
'Thankee, sir. Well, grandmamma, go on; but if there be anything very bad, give me a little notice, for I am nervous.'
And then Mrs. Woodward began to read, Linda sitting with Katie's baby in her arms, and Katie performing a similar office for her sister.
"'The World's Last Wonder,' by Charles Tudor, Esq."
'He begins with a lie,' said Charley, 'for I never called myself Esquire.'
'Oh, that was a mistake,' said Katie, forgetting herself.