the hours flew rapidly, and I reluctantly turned the horses' heads
homeward. We had left almost the whole of "Happy Valley" behind us, and
were approaching residences again.

"Now we must be very proper," said Alice.

"Certainly," I replied, "here's a good--by to happy nonsense for this
afternoon."

I leaned toward her, and gently placed one arm about her neck; she
raised her dear face, from which joy and trust had banished every
indication of caution and reserve, my lips sought hers, when suddenly
we heard a most unearthly, discordant shriek, which presently separated
into two, each of which prolonged itself indefinitely. The horses
started, and Alice--blessed be all frights, now, henceforth, and
forevermore!--clung tightly to me. The sounds seemed to be approaching
us, and were accompanied by a lively rattling noise, that seemed to be
made by something wooden. Suddenly, as we approached a bend of the
road, I saw my youngest nephew appear from some unknown space, describe
a parabolic curve in the air, ricochet slightly from an earthy
protuberance in the road, and make a final stop in the gutter. At the
same time there appeared, from behind the bend, the goat, then the
carriage dragging on one side, and lastly, the boy Budge, grasping
tightly the back of the carriage body, and howling frightfully. A
direct collision between the carriage and a stone caused Budge to loose
his hold, while the goat, after taking in the scene, trotted leisurely
off, and disappeared in a road leading to the house of his late owner.

"Budge," I shouted, "stop that bawling, and come here. Where's Mike?"

"He--boo--hoo--went to--hoo--light his--boo--hoo--hoo--pipe, an' I just
let the--boo--hoo--whip go against to the goat, an' then he scattooed."

"Nashty old goat scaddooed," said Toddie, in corroboration.

"Well, walk right home, and tell Maggie to wash and dress you," said I.

"O Harry," pleaded Alice, "after they've been in such danger! Come here
to your own Aunt Alice, Budgie dear,--and you, too, Toddie,--you know
you said we could pick the boys up on the road, Harry. There,
there--don't cry--let me wipe the ugly old dirt off you, and kiss the
face, and make it well."

"Alice," I protested, "don't let those dirty boys clamber all over you
in that way."

"Silence, sir," said she, with mock dignity; "who gave me my lover, I
should like to ask?"

So we drove up to the boarding-house with the air of people who had
been devoting the