d,
bombazine dress with his glistening ivories, rent it from the waist, flew
through the parlor window, and rushed through streets, by-lanes and
alleys, rending the flaring fabric, and dragging it through mud-holes
till it looked like some fiery-colored flag borne away by the enemy in
disgrace.

Mrs. Salsify rushed down into her husband's shop in awful plight, her
hair standing on end, and her great, green eyes almost starting from
their sockets. Mr. Salsify looked with amazement on his lady, as did also
the half-score of customers that stood around his counters. Her
saffron-colored skirt was rent in divers places, revealing the black one
she wore beneath, and the gay-striped waist she still wore was hung round
with ragged fragments of the vanished skirt.

"Lord, love us, what is the matter?" exclaimed Mr. Salsify, rushing
toward his wife.

"Edson's dog has eat up six chickens, a cream-pot, a rolling-board,
pie-crust, and all!" exclaimed Mrs. Mumbles, with a frantic air, as she
fell into her husband's outstretched arms, wholly unmindful of the
laughter her appearance and words had excited among her good man's
customers.

"Edson's dog,--how could he get into the house?" demanded Mr. Mumbles.

"I saw him out with Dick Giblet, this morning, when he was leaving
packages," said little Joe Bowles, with a mischievous leer in his black
eyes.

The husband and wife exchanged a glance. The whole truth flashed upon
them,--'twas a trick of Dick's. Mr. Salsify ordered his customers to
leave the shop, and locking the door, he led his terrified, trembling
wife up stairs, where they found Mary Madeline lying on the floor in a
fainting fit, with the fragments of her mother's skirt clenched tightly
in her cold hands.

CHAPTER VI.

"Her face was fairer than face of earth;
What was the thing to liken it to?
A lily just dipped in the summer dew?
Parian marble--snow's first fall?
Her brow was fairer than each,--than all.
And so delicate was each vein's soft blue,
'Twas not like blood that wandered through.
Rarely upon that cheek was shed,
By health or by youth, one tinge of red,
And never closest look could descry,
In shine or shade, the hue of her eye,
But, as it were made of light, it changed
With every sunbeam that over it r