r. Well, sir, I
was sitting at a table with the boot on my arm, though my thoughts were
far otherwise engaged, when I saw the lodge door open and a female
enter. The person who had just come in was wrapped in a large hooded
cloak, and, without thinking any harm, I civilly rose from my seat, and
put my hand to my hat. Then I observed another female, also attired in a
similar cloak, with a large hood, enter the lodge and shut the door
after her. Although somewhat astonished at the familiarity of such a
proceeding, and the silence maintained by both the women, I rose a
second time from my chair, and a second time I lifted my hand to my hat.
And then, sir,--but no, no, I can never finish the recital; my wounded
modesty chokes my utterance."

"Come, come, old pet," said Madame Pipelet, encouragingly, "get on with
your story; we are all men here."

"Well, then," stammered forth Alfred, his face becoming scarlet as the
fullest blown peony, "then their mantles fell to the ground. And what do
you think I saw? Why, a couple of sirens, or nymphs, or witches of one
kind or the other, with no sort of clothing except a petticoat made of
leaves, while a wreath of similar descriptions decorated their heads.
And then the two advanced towards me with outstretched arms, as though
inviting me to throw myself into them."

"Oh, the impudent sluts!" exclaimed Anastasie.

"Their impure advances disgusted me," continued Alfred, animated with a
chaste indignation; "and, in conformity with a habit which has ever
attended the most critical moments of my life, I remained still and
motionless on my chair. Then, profiting by my surprise and stupor, the
two sirens came gently forward to a sort of low music, turning and
twisting and extending their arms and legs in all directions. I became
petrified, as though changed to stone; I waited their approach in silent
agony. They came nearer and nearer, till at last they wrapped me tight
in their arms."

"Did they, though?" cried Anastasie. "Oh, the hussies! I only wish I had
been there with my broomstick; I'd have taught them how to come hopping
and skipping, and holding out their arms for an innocent, virtuous,
married man to tumble into,--I would, the bold-faced beggars!"

[Illustration: "_Slowly Dancing and Whirling around Me_"
Original Etching by Porteau]

"When I felt myself in a manner half stifled between them, I gave myself
up for lost. My blood retreated from my heart,--I felt as if struck w