ise; he had
made all he could be expected to of that limited enjoyment. Now he
walked round the table with an air of consciousness that supper was
served. He sat by his mistress's chair, lifted one paw with
well-bred expressiveness, stretching out the digits of it as a
dainty lady extends her lesser fingers when she lifts her cup, or
breaks a bit of bread. It was a delicate suggestion of exquisite
appreciation, and of most excellent manners. Once he began a whine,
but recollected himself and suppressed it, as the dainty lady might
a yawn.

Aunt Blin gave him two oysters, and three spoonfuls of broth in his
own saucer, before she helped herself. After all, she ate in her
turn very little more. It was hardly worth while to have made a
business of being comfortable.

"I don't think they have such good oysters as they used to," she
remarked, stepping over her s'es in a very carpeted and
stocking-footed way.

"Perhaps I didn't put enough seasoning"--Bel began, but was
interrupted in the middle of her reply.

The big bell two squares off clanged a heavy stroke caught up on the
echo by others that sounded smaller farther and farther away, making
their irregular, yet familiar phrase and cadence on the air.

It was the fire alarm.

"H--zh! Hark!" Aunt Blin changed the muffled but eager monosyllable
to a sharper one; and being reminded, felt in her lap, under her
napkin, for her "ornaments," as Bel called them.

But she counted the strokes before she put them in, nodding her
head, and holding up her finger to Bel and Bartholomew for silence.
Everything stopped where it was with Miss Bree when the fire alarm
sounded.

One--two--three--four--five.

"In the city," said Aunt Blin, with a certain weird unconscious
satisfaction; and whipped the porcelains into their places before
the second tolling should begin. They were like Pleasant Riderhood's
back hair: she was all twisted up, now, and ready.

One--two.

"That ain't fur off. Down Bedford Street way. Give me the fire-book,
and my glasses."

She turned the folds of the card with one hand, and adjusted her
spectacles with the other.

"Bedford and Lincoln. Why, that's close by where Miss Proddle
boards!"

"That's the _box_, Auntie. You always forget the fire isn't in the
box."

"Well, it will be if they don't get along with their steamers. I
ain't heard one go by yet."

"They haven't any horses, you know."

"Hark! there's one now! O, _do_ hush! There's the b