to be associated with any establishment. Though
yet unknown to us personally, we—my brother
and I—felt a strange yearning to "the Infant
Marie Delaval," for even the bill, usually seasoned
with the coldness of an official document,
spoke of her delicately and tenderly. This
gifted family, we observed, came forward later
in their Grotesque Ballet Pantomime, entitled
"The Scaramouche in Love," which seemed to
be an entertainment of much promise. But,
somehow, our eyes seemed to wander back again
to the glorious cartoon, done in the rich lamp-
black, of the friend of man, the "renowned Dog
Cæsar," wandering in his mysterious forest.
Lovely, indeed, was that bill against the dead
wall; and we feasted on it until we knew its
sonorous periods by heart; even until we arrived
a full quarter of an hour late at school, and were
put ignominiously with our faces to the wall.
We little recked that public humiliation; we
were far away, lifted above earth, in the society
of the immortals, the Delaval Family, and the
Dog Cæsar!

That Saturday was a half-holiday. In our
way home we took the now etherealised temple
of the drama. A horrid profanation had occurred
in our absence. Some irreverent person
had carelessly torn away a large segment of the
bright yellow bill, dividing the renowned dog
Cæsar diagonally across; barely the head and
fore-paws of the injured animal were left. It
was a cruel outrage. We found another not
very far away; but someway it had not the old
glory; it did not show the original glisten and
stickiness, so to speak. The first had endeared
itself as though it had a special individuality of
its own, and yet this was clearly an erroneous
impression. It was the change in the renowned
dog Cæsar that affected us. He seemed fainter—
his impression that is; the black ink was not
so vivid and abundant.

At home there was a strange surprise. There
was our father waiting, come down from London
to see us: nay, not only to see us, but to take
us home for a week. Events of gravest
import had occurred: the hand of a sister had
been asked in marriage—the hand of the sister
had been granted, and we were to be fetched to
see the show. To-morrow we were to start;
meantime, we would take papa out and show
him the sea, town, docks, mariners, and the rest
of the attractions. Was the same thought in both
our little hearts? Was the same idea ever
fluttering upward to our lips? With our dear
father we always cultivated a republican freedom
of speech; but it was the ineffable awe and
grandeur of the subject that inspired us with
timidity. But it is certain that, with a mutual
instinct we artfully took him round by the strange
and deeply meaning edifice which affected us so
curiously. And, after all, there was indeed a
sincerity in this motion, for we regarded it as
by far the chief lion of the place. "What!
eh!" said our dear father, gaily, "what's this?
Store of some sort? Oh, I see—used to be a
theatre. Have they ever plays here now?"
Our eyes met—my brother's and mine, that is—
and we murmured timorously, "Oh, papa, the
Dog! the Renowned Dog Cæsar!" We had
drawn him near to a glistening bill; the glories
met his eye!

We went that night—I cannot bear to think
how wearily the hours dragged themselves by—
and yet the bliss of that day; it was too much
happiness for mortal boy. I had a sort of
gentle palpitation of the heart which was
distressing at times; it came from chafing at the
constraint, and yet it was very sweet agony:
but our aunt! gracious, what injustice we had
done that injured woman! How we had secretly
traduced her! We blushed for it, and wondered
at our blindness. She entered into all the spirit
of the festival; her ascetical spirit had vanished.
She was enthusiastic, generous, co-operative;
she lent her aid heartily to the adornment of
our persons. She was busy the whole evening,
decorating us with unprecedented splendour.
What a fairy-like evening it was—a golden cloud
hangs over it now—we walked and pursued
the customary avocations of life as in a glory.
The customary ceremonial of dinner was but
indifferently executed, in strange contrast to the
usual avidity that waited on that meal. We
were too blissful for such earthly joys; there
was a choking feel about the throat, and an
interior disrelish, which rendered the meal
unpleasant; it was got through in some fashion;
papa occupying a time and using a deliberation
that seemed unaccountable. Then to dress.

Delicious function! Such burnishing of the
cheek, such moistening of the hair—never was
personal adornment so delightful. There was
a magic waistcoat of pale blue shot with silver,
never worn before, and which had indeed been
appointed for another solemnity, but through
accident had been left buttonless. This my
aunt—no longer ascetic—strained every nerve
to have completed. There were white trousers
—virgin articles and speckless; and there were
short jackets, and black ribbons about our necks
tied in elegant bows.

The dragging hours at length brought us to
seven o'clock. At half-past the doors opened.
Yet there was a feeling within us that no risk
was to be run, and that a handsome margin of
time was to be allowed to be clear of accidents.
A fly, therefore, was sent for with all speed;
with fluttering hearts we descended in our
gorgeous apparel. It was a dampish interior,
and had a perfume of ancient straw—yet how
celestial seemed the vehicle. That aroma has
been sweet in our nostrils ever since. A horrible
thought—what if the household time had been
astray, say by half an hour, or even by three-
quarters! At another season the wildness of the
theory would have been apparent on a moment's
thought, for an irregularity of that nature under
the rule of my aunt—that exactest of the tribe
of women—was almost ludicrously improbable.
A moment's calm reflection would have shown
us this; but we were too agitated to let reason
have her sway.

Here it was at last—a dark projection, with