into the
most remote of the other rooms, and shutting that door. The Lamb from
Brookline inspected the pictures and photographs, straightening the
first, retiring some of the second, and adding a few of both borrowed
from the other members of the flock, and arranged to suit his own
artistic fancy; the Lamb from Philadelphia polished off the cups and
saucers with a clean towel; then the Lamb from Boston took the towel
and dusted the mantel. After their labors, they attired themselves in
their "glad rags," and sat in readiness behind their half-closed
doors, while the Boston Lamb laid out two or three law tomes on his
couch, and assumed a studious attitude in his Morris chair. Promptly
at four appeared the Cousin and the Aunt.
They were courteously impressed by the Lamb's bachelor quarters and
the appurtenances thereof, nor was the significance of the "Cases on
Quasi-Contracts," which the Lamb ostentatiously hustled away, lost
upon them. The Cousin insisted on looking at it, and her comments were
of so sprightly a character and so difficult to return in kind, that
the Lamb, conscious of the open doors, and not desiring to subject the
_esprit de corps_ of his friends to a very severe strain, called in
his brother Lambs to meet his relatives.
They attended promptly, three personable young men in irreproachable
afternoon dress, overjoyed to find the Cousin as pretty as her voice
was musical, and as entertaining as her skillful jolly of the Boston
Lamb had led them to expect. In ten minutes the flock was hers to
command. The Philadelphia Lamb took down from its new position on the
Boston Lamb's wall the cherished Whistler of the Brookline Lamb, and
presented it to her; the Boston Lamb begged her acceptance of the
quaint little Cloisonne cup which she admired as she drank from it,
and which was the property of the Philadelphia member; the Albany
Lamb, on the plea that everything of value had already been abstracted
from him to make the Boston Lamb's room pretty for her, offered her
himself, and was in no way cast down when she declined him on the
ground that he was too decorative to be truly useful. But in the
middle of the recrimination that followed this turning state's
evidence on the part of the Albany Lamb, the Cousin inquired:
"You are all law students--do any of you know a man named Freeman who
is studying up here?" The flock looked at each other and smiled.
Freeman was the Goat's name.
"She doesn't mean the G
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