longer what you were?"

"I have observed a certain subtle change," was the rather dubious reply
of the old gentleman; "it is perhaps attributable to age."

"It is more than that," I explained; "it goes to character--to species.
You and the lady here are, in truth, two _broncos_--wild stallions both,
and unfriendly."

"Why, John," exclaimed my dear mother, "you don't mean to say that I
am--"

"Madam," I replied, solemnly, fixing my eyes again upon hers, "you are."

Scarcely had the words fallen from my lips when she dropped upon her
hands and knees, and backing up to the old man squealed like a demon and
delivered a vicious kick upon his shin! An instant later he was himself
down on all-fours, headed away from her and flinging his feet at her
simultaneously and successively. With equal earnestness but inferior
agility, because of her hampering body-gear, she plied her own. Their
flying legs crossed and mingled in the most bewildering way; their feet
sometimes meeting squarely in midair, their bodies thrust forward,
falling flat upon the ground and for a moment helpless. On recovering
themselves they would resume the combat, uttering their frenzy in the
nameless sounds of the furious brutes which they believed themselves to
be--the whole region rang with their clamor! Round and round they
wheeled, the blows of their feet falling "like lightnings from the
mountain cloud." They plunged and reared backward upon their knees,
struck savagely at each other with awkward descending blows of both
fists at once, and dropped again upon their hands as if unable to
maintain the upright position of the body. Grass and pebbles were torn
from the soil by hands and feet; clothing, hair, faces inexpressibly
defiled with dust and blood. Wild, inarticulate screams of rage attested
the delivery of the blows; groans, grunts and gasps their receipt.
Nothing more truly military was ever seen at Gettysburg or Waterloo: the
valor of my dear parents in the hour of danger can never cease to be to
me a source of pride and gratification. At the end of it all two
battered, tattered, bloody and fragmentary vestiges of mortality
attested the solemn fact that the author of the strife was an orphan.

Arrested for provoking a breach of the peace, I was, and have ever since
been, tried in the Court of Technicalities and Continuances whence,
after fifteen years of proceedings, my attorney is moving heaven and
earth to get the case taken to the Court o