d get their dinners, and scarcely knew whether they were
eating beef or mutton.

'It is impossible to let him ride on the mutton,' said his father:
'quite impossible!'

'Well, but you might just put him astride the dish, just to satisfy him;
you can take care his legs or clothes do not go into the gravy.'

'Anything for a quiet life,' said the father. 'What does Limby
want?--Limby ride?'

'Limby on bone!--Limby on meat!'

'Shall I put him across?' said Mr. Lumpy.

'Just for one moment,' said his mamma: 'it won't hurt the mutton.'

The father rose, and took Limby from his chair, and, with the greatest
caution, held his son's legs astride, so that they might hang on each
side of the dish without touching it; 'just to satisfy him,' as he said,
'that they might dine in quiet,' and was about to withdraw him from it
immediately.

But Limby was not to be cheated in that way, he wished to feel the
saddle _under_ him, and accordingly forced himself down upon it; but
feeling it rather warmer than was agreeable, started, and lost his
balance, and fell down among the dishes, soused in melted butter,
cauliflower, and gravy--floundering, and kicking, and screaming, to the
detriment of glasses, jugs, dishes, and everything else on the table.

'My child! my child!' said his mamma; 'O! save my child!'

She snatched him up, and pressed his begreased garments close to the
bosom of her best silk gown.

Neither father nor mother wanted any more dinner after this. As to Limby,
he was as frisky afterwards as if nothing had happened; and, about half
an hour from the time of this disaster, _cried for his dinner_.

[5] This story and the one which follows it are not by Mrs. Fenwick.
'Limby Lumpy' is from _The Holiday Book_.

The Oyster Patties

There was once a little boy, who perhaps might have been a good little
fellow if his friends had taken pains to make him so, but I do not know
how it was, instead of teaching him to be good, they gave him everything
he cried for; so, whenever he wished to have anything, he had only to
cry; and if he did not get it directly, he cried louder and louder till
at last he got it. By this means Alfred was not only very naughty but
very unhappy; he was crying from morning till night; he had no pleasure
in anything; he was in everybody's way, and nobody liked to be with
him. Well, one day his mamma thought she would give him a day of
pleasure, and make him very happy indeed, so she told hi