me, nor any of the thousand noises that fill city air with the spirit of unrest, and I fell into a wonder almost indignant that sensible, comfortable, loving beings could live in horrible New York, while such delightful rural homes were so near at hand.  Then Alice Mayton came into my mind, and then a customer; later, stars and trademarks, and bouquets, and dirty nephews, and fireflies and bad accounts, and railway tickets, and candy and Herbert Spencer, mixed themselves confusingly in my mind.  Then a vision of a proud angel, in the most fashionable attire and a modern carriage, came and banished them all by its perfect radiance, and I was sinking in the most blissful unconsciousness—­

“Ah—­h—­h—­h—&s
hy;h—­h—­oo—­oo—­oo—­oo—­ee—­ee—­ee—­”

“Sh—­h—­h!” I hissed.

The warning was heeded, and I soon relapsed into oblivion.

“Ah—­h—­h—­h—&s
hy;oo—­oo—­ee—­ee—­ee—­be—­ee.”

“Toddie, do you want uncle to whip you?”

“No.”

“Then lie still.”

“Well, Ize lost my dolly, an’ I tant find her anywhere.”

“Well, I’ll find her for you in the morning.”

“Oo—­oo—­ee—­I wants my dolly.”

“Well, I tell you I’ll find her for you in the morning.”

“I want her now—­oo—­oo—­”

“You can’t have her now, so you can go to sleep.”

“Oh—­oo—­oo—­oo—­ee—­”

Springing madly to my feet, I started for the offender’s room.  I encountered a door ajar by the way, my forehead being first to discover it.  I ground my teeth, lit a candle, and said something—­ no matter what.

“Oh, you said a bad swear!” ejaculated Toddie.  “You won’t go to heaven when you die.”

“Neither will you, if you howl like a little, demon all night.  Are you going to be quiet, now?”

“Yesh, but I wants my dolly.”

“I don’t know where your dolly is—­do you suppose I’m going to search this entire house for that confounded dolly?”

“’Tain’t ’founded.  I wants my dolly.”  “I don’t know where it is; you don’t think I stole your dolly, do you?”

“Well, I wants it, in de bed wif me.”

“Charles,” said I, “when you arise in morning, I hope your doll will be found.  At present, however, you must be resigned and go to sleep.  I’ll cover you up nicely;” here I began to rearrange the bed-clothing, when the fateful dolly, source of all my woes, tumbled out of them.  Toddie clutched it, his whole face lighting up with affectionate delight, and he screamed:—­

“Oh, dare is my dee dolly:  tum to your own papa, dolly, an’ I’ll love you.”

And that ridiculous child was so completely satisfied by his outlay of affection that my own indignation gave place to genuine artistic pleasure.  One can tire of even beautiful pictures, though, when he is not fully awake, and is holding a candle in a draught of air; so I covered my nephews and returned to my own room, where I mused upon the contradictoriness of childhood until I fell asleep.