"I'll tell you what I'm thinking about," said Dotty, as the girl left the room;—"what has she got on her head?"
"Why, hair, to be sure," replied Grace.
"Wool, I should call it," corrected Horace.
"Because I didn't know," faltered Dotty,—"I didn't know but 'twas a wig."
"What made you think 'twas a wig, Dotty?"
"O, there was a man wore one in the cars; it looked just like anybody's hair, only he tied it on with a button. He knew you and Horace."
"Me and Horace? Who could it have been?"
"He's the major; his name is Lazelle."
"O, I remember him," said Grace and Horace together. "Does he wear a wig? He isn't old at all."
"He calls himself 'an old mustache,'" returned Dotty, "for he said so to me. He wears one of those hair-lips, and a wig."