rse as she proceeded, her voice grew so shrill and
vehement, that Mr. Pimble, had he not been deeply engaged in poring over
the trials his loquacious housekeeper was so eloquently setting forth to
her silent and rather inattentive listener, he would have discovered
himself the hero of a tale which might have lost Mrs. Peggy Nonee a
place she had occupied half a lifetime. But Mr. Pimble sat in bed-gown
and slippers till dinner was announced at one P.M., and the three young
Pimbles tumbled into the hall in boisterous glee, just escaped from the
restraint of school discipline. They all rushed to the table at once,
and called for half a dozen kinds of food in a voice, which the glum,
abstracted father heaped indiscriminately on their plates. There was no
sound save the clatter of knives and forks for several minutes, while
the interesting family discussed their amply-provided and well-prepared
meal. At length Master Garrison Pimble, a lad of a dozen years, declared
sister Sukey had got the biggest piece of venison pie. Susan, a little
girl of seven summers, said she "didn't care if she had; she ought to
have."

"No, you oughtn't either," returned Master Garrison, "for you are not
half as big as I."

"I don't care for that," lisped Susan; "mammy says women ought to have
the best and most of everything, and do just what they like to, and go
just where they want to."

"Well, they shouldn't do any such thing, should they, father?" demanded
the argument-loving Garrison.

"Eat your dinners quietly, my children," returned the silent father, "and
not meddle with matters you do not understand."

"But I do understand them," continued the youth. "I know sister Sukey
ought not to have the largest piece of pie, and she shan't."

Thus saying, he made a dive at Miss Susan's plate, and bore off her
generous slice of venison pastry on his fork. Susey screamed at the top
of her voice, and, clutching her hands in her brother's hair, she pulled
it so vigorously he was fain to drop his prize, which fell to the carpet
and was devoured by a half-starved grimalkin, while he boxed his sister's
ears soundly for her vixen attack upon his bushy black hair.

"I'll learn you to pull my hair!" said he, with a very red face.

"I'll learn you to steal my pie!" shrieked she, as, maddened by her
smarting ears, she flew at him and dug long, bloody scratches in his
cheeks with her sharp little nails. The father now parted the combatants,
and shut the