y, which he had come to regard a sort of purchase price with which
to secure his divinity. But neither could he allow those darling checks
to go hungry; so he said:

"If you will come with me to the restaurant, I will gladly supply you
with food."

The widow accepted the invitation at once, and the Woggle-Bug walked
proudly beside her, leading all of the four children at once with his
four hands.

Two such gay costumes as those worn by the widow and the Woggle-Bug are
seldom found together, and the restaurant man was so impressed by the
sight that he demanded his money in advance.

The four children, jabbering delightedly in their broken English,
clambered upon four stools, and the widow sat upon another. And the
Woggle-Bug, who was not hungry (being engaged in feasting his eyes upon
the checks), laid down a silver dollar as a guarantee of good faith.

It was wonderful to see so much pie and cake and bread-and-butter and
pickles and dough-nuts and sandwiches disappear into the mouths of the
four innocents and their comparatively innocent mother. The Woggle-Bug
had to add another quarter to the vanished dollar before the score
was finally settled; and no sooner had the tribe trooped out
restaurant than they turned into the open portals of an Ice-Cream
Parlor, where they all attacked huge stacks of pale ice-cream and
consumed several plates of lady-fingers and cream-puffs.

Again the Woggle-Bug reluctantly abandoned a dollar; but the end was
not yet. The dear children wanted candy and nuts; and then they warned
pink lemonade; and then pop-corn and chewing-gum; and always the
Woggle-Bug, after a glance at the entrancing costume, found himself
unable to resist paying for the treat.

It was nearly evening when the widow pleaded fatigue and asked to be
taken home. For none of them was able to eat another morsel, and the
Woggle-Bug wearied her with his protestations of boundless admiration.

"Will you permit me to call upon you this evening?" asked the Insect,
pleadingly, as he bade the wearer of the gown good-bye on her
door-step.

"Sure like!" she replied, not caring to dismiss him harshly; and the
happy Woggle-Bug went home with a light heart, murmuring to himself:

"At last the lovely plaids are to be my own! The new hat I found at the
ball has certainly brought me luck."

I am glad our friend the Woggle-Bug had those few happy moments, for he
was destined to endure severe disappointments in the near future.