“Colonel, I have called to engage you as my counsel in a divorce suit against Mr. Fogg.  I have resolved to separate from him—­to sunder our ties and henceforth to live apart.”

“Indeed!” replied the colonel; “I’m sorry to hear that.  What’s the matter?  Has he been beating and ill-treating you?”

“Beating!” exclaimed Mrs. Fogg, disdainfully; “I should think not!  I should like him to try it.”

“Maria, let me—­” interposed Mr. Fogg, mildly.

“Now, Wilberforce,” she exclaimed, interrupting him, “you remain quiet; I will explain this matter to Colonel Coffin.  You see, colonel, Mr. Fogg is eccentric beyond endurance.  He goes on continually in a manner that will certainly drive me to distraction.  I can stand it no longer.  We must be cut asunder.  For years, colonel, Wilberforce has been attempting to learn to play upon the flute.  He has no more idea of music than a crow, but he will try to learn.  He has been practicing upon the flute since 1862, and he has learned but a portion of but one tune—­’Nelly Bly.’  He can play but four notes, ’Nelly Bly shuts—­’ and there he stops.  He has practiced these four notes for fourteen years.  He plays them upon the porch in the evening; he blows them out from the garret; he stands out in the yard and puffs them; he has frequently risen in the night and seized his flute and played ‘Nel-ly Bly shuts’ for hours, until I had to scream to relieve my feelings.”

“Now, Maria,” said Mr. Fogg, “you know that I can play as far as ’shuts her eye’—­six notes in all.  I learned them in the early part of June.”

“Very well, now; it’s of no consequence.  Don’t interrupt me.  This is bad enough.  I submitted to it because I loved him.  But on Tuesday, while I was watching him through the crack of the parlor door, I saw him wink twice at my chambermaid; I saw him distinctly.”

“Maria,” shrieked Fogg, “this is scandalous.  You know very well that I am suffering from a nervous affection of the eye-lids.”

“Wilberforce, hush!  In addition to this wickedness, colonel, Mr. Fogg is becoming so absent-minded that he torments my life; he makes me utterly wretched.  Four times now has he brought his umbrella to bed with him and scratched me by joggling it around with the sharp points of the ribs toward me.  What on earth he means I cannot imagine.  He said he thought somehow it was the baby, but that is so preposterous that I can hardly believe him.”

“Why can’t you?  Don’t you remember perfectly well that I emptied a bottle of milk into the umbrella twice?  Would I have done that if I hadn’t thought it was the baby?”

“There, now, Wilberforce! that’s enough from you.  Do let me have a chance to talk!  And, colonel, the real baby he treats in the most malignant manner.  A few days ago he mesmerized it secretly, and scared me so that I am ill from the effects of it yet.  I thought the dear child would sleep for ever.  And in addition to this, I came in on Thursday and found that he had laid the large family Bible on the darling’s stomach.  It was at the last gasp.  I thought it would never recover.”