ed
state, is ushered into that sanctum of privacy from which he has been
ignominiously debarred all day--his wife's room.

The revulsion of feeling was too much for the poor man. His head began
to whirl, and his eyes were blinded. He had a faint perception of his
wife speaking to him, and of his being shown something, he didn't know
what; of being told to do something, he didn't know what; and standing
dazed and helpless until forcibly led from the room, and bidden to "go
get his supper and not act like a fool."

The familiar expression and natural manner completely restored his
wavering consciousness, and he knowingly made his way to the kitchen and
vigorously attacked a largo pork-pie, which he gloriously conquered and
felt all the pride of a hero.

The next day, having regained in a measure his usual self-control, he
was allowed once more, in consideration of the position he held in the
family, to enter that _sanctum sanctorum_, and gaze upon its inmates.
His acute mother-in-law, having extracted a promise of absence for the
day, on condition of being allowed to look at his own child a moment,
carefully deposits in his trembling hands a small woollen bundle with a
tiny speck of a face peering therefrom.

Indescribable emotions rushed through his frame at the first touch of
that soft warm roll of flannel, and a torrent of tumultuous joy bubbled
up in his heart when he had so far mastered his emotions as to be able
to touch with one nervous finger the little soft red cheek, lying so
peacefully in his arms. The tiny hands doubled up, so brave looking yet
so helpless now, giving promise of the future, brought tears of joy and
pride to his eyes, and stooping over the wondrous future man, he pressed
a kiss upon its unconscious face.

That kiss awoke the sleeping muse within him. Blissful visions of the
future, and ambitious feelings for the present, started into being. His
first thought was to do something to please the potent little fellow;
but happening to glance at his "everlasting terror," he remembered his
promise. A brilliant idea striking him at that moment, he apostrophized
the infant in the touching words:--

By by, baby bunting,
Daddy's gone a-hunting,
To get a little rabbit skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.

One more kiss, and with a little sigh he lays the precious burden down,
and departs to spend the day in the woods, according to promise, so as
not to be bothering around under foot, and get