It is possible he had taxed his intellectual
and colloquial gifts too highly—for he looked
both savage and sullen—but, of course, I
assumed an air of interest, and endeavoured,
in my awkward way, to open an infantine
conversation. The little wretch only sucked
his apology for a finger, and glared at me. At
length:—

"What has he been saying?" I asked, in
despair.

"Whole sentences, my dear cousin," said
his mamma. "You never heard such chat.
I couldn't get in a word. What was it he
said coming down-stairs, nurse ?—' Ga-ga,'
say it again, ma's blessing,  'Ga-ga, toopid.' "

"Ga-ga, toopid, Minny tipsy," prompted
nurse.

"'Toopid' is his favourite word," said
Cis. "Everything's toopid: isn't it my
pet?"

I began to think it was.

Lest my readers should be of the same
opinion, I shall not conduct them through
every hour of this most tedious day.
Whether the child had been over-dosed with
paregoric, or what had been done to him by
Art or Nature, I will not pretend to say;
but he would neither speak nor walk, nor in
fact do anything but suck his finger. This
state of things so alarmed the family, that
domestic business of every kind was
suspended, and the energies of all were devoted
to the one great end of restoring his spirits
to their natural querulous tone.

After some anxious consultation, Properjohn
mounted his horse, and rode off to visit
a brother doctor at some distance; with the
view, as far as I could understand, of taking
his opinion how far the prolonged suction of
one's forefinger is injurious to health; and,
assuming that it be injurious, what is the
gentlest method of removing the digit from
the abnormal position.

I hardly know how we passed the morning.
I believe I looked a good deal out of the
window. It seemed unkind to walk out and
leave my poor cousin alone with her anxieties,
and Properjohn did not return for several
hours. I might, however, as well have
had my walk. Cis only looked in occasionally
with a pale, anxious face; hoped I was
amusing myself, and returned hastily to the
nursery; where Tiddlepops was enjoying a
placid slumber—his finger still in his mouth.
There was, Cis informed me, a very curious
appearance on his brow, about as big as that
(making a mark on paper the size of a very
small pin's head), which caused her to be
very impatient for her husband's return.

I offered to ride out and seek him; but
this she was too nervous to allow. We had
some cold meat during the day, but no regular
dinner; and altogether I was truly delighted
when evening and Properjohn arrived together:
my friend a little ruffled, in consequence
of some unfeeling remarks made by
the doctor about Tiddlepops's ailments.

"But," sighed Properjohn, with Macdruff,
"he has no children." In the meantime,
however, the finger had quitted its position,
and the spot as big as that, had become
invisible to mortal mother's eye.

So ended the first day. The next opened
better. It was known that he had passed a
tranquil night; mamma having risen only
three times, and papa twice, to see how he
was getting on. We exchanged smiles of
congratulation over the coffee, and shook
hands more than once during the morning;
as if in silent recognition of the gratifying
aspect of affairs. I could scarcely forbear
smiling at the interest I myself began to
attach to the state of this dreadful Tiddlepops's
health and temper. I had become
infected with the general solicitude; and, had
I remained a few days longer under that roof,
I am persuaded I should have sunk into as
abject slavery as any had. It was not that
I liked the child a bit better than at first,
but that the love and pity of these amiable
people appealed to mine; and what right had
I—though with a heart too little used to such
emotions—to stand selfishly aloof, thwarting
and shocking their sensibilities?

But my visit was cut suddenly short. We
were just preparing for a pleasant stroll,
when the nurse, with an aspect I shall never
forget, burst into the room, and, staggering
up to her mistress, threw her arms round her,
crying out:—

"O—please 'm, bear up—bear up!"

"Bear up!" shrieked poor Cis. "Nurse,
nurse! Is he—is——What?"

"He— he has—WHOOPED!"

"My dear Burkemyoung," said Proporjohn,
turning to me, pale as death, but calm and
collected as a man should be in great and
sudden trouble, "My very dear friend, you
perceive the dispensation it has pleased
Providence to bring on my domestic peace.
I am wholly unfit to fulfil the duties of a
host. I cannot—I will not—request you to
prolong your present stay. At a happier
moment, I—I—"

The good fellow pressed my hand warmly.
Cis took the hand he had let fall.

"And, cousin, dear," she answered, the
tears bursting from her eyes—"you shall
yet—please God—hear him say 'Ga-ga
toopid.'"

In that hope I live.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

TIME: Midnight, on December the Thirty-first. The
bells are ringing in the New Year, and a gusty
wind is blowing, alternately carrying away the
sound of the bells, and allowing it to be heard.

THE WIND.

BENEATH the quiet Heaven's starry sheening,
   My long and snaky windings are uncurl'd;
And, with a weight of melancholy meaning,
   I circle round the melancholy world.