Asked to stay to dinner, he assured us that he never took anything in the middle of the day but a glass of wine and a biscuit; but he would be happy to sit down with us, which he accordingly did and kindly volunteered to carve for us.  His offer was gladly accepted, but the appearance of a rather diminutive piece of neck of mutton was somewhat of a puzzle to him.  He had evidently never seen such a joint in his life before, and had frankly to confess that he did not know how to set about carving it.  Directions only made things worse, and he bravely cut it to pieces in entirely the wrong fashion, relating meanwhile the story of a shy young man who had been asked to carve a fowl, the joints of which had been carefully wired together beforehand by his too attentive friends.

The task and the story being both finished, our visitor gazed on the mangled remains, and remarked quaintly:  “I think it is just as well I don’t want anything, for I don’t know where I should find it.”

    At least one member of the party felt she could have managed
    matters better; but that was a point of very little
    consequence.

    A day or two after the first call came a note saying that he
    would be taking Isa home before long, and if we would like
    to see her he would stop on the way again.

Of course we were only too delighted to have the opportunity, and, though the visit was postponed more than once, it did take place early in August, when he brought both Isa and Nellie up to town to see a performance of “Sweet Lavender.”  It is needless to remark that we took care, this time, to be provided with something at once substantial and carvable.

The children were bright, healthy, happy and childlike little maidens, quite devoted to their good friend, whom they called “Uncle”; and very interesting it was to see them together.

    But he did not allow any undue liberties either, as a little
    incident showed.

    He had been describing a particular kind of collapsible
    tumbler, which you put in your pocket and carried with you
    for use on a railway journey.

    “There now,” he continued, turning to the children, “I
    forgot to bring it with me after all.”

    “Oh Goosie,” broke in Isa; “you’ve been talking about that
    tumbler for days, and now you have forgotten it.”

    He pulled himself up, and looked at her steadily with an air
    of grave reproof.

    Much abashed, she hastily substituted a very subdued “Uncle”
    for the objectionable “Goosie,” and the matter dropped.