icken-coop, an' we eats it, an'
it's DOVELY."

All this was lucid and disgusting, but utterly unproductive of
button-hooks, and meanwhile the breakfast was growing cold. I succeeded
in buttoning Toddie's shoes with my fingers, splitting most of my nails
in the operation. I had been too busily engaged with Toddie to pay any
attention to Budge, who I now found about half dressed and trying to
catch flies on the windowpane. Snatching Toddie, I started for the
dining-room, when Budge remarked reprovingly:--

"Uncle Harry, YOU wasn't dressed when the bell rang, and YOU oughtn't
to have any breakfast."

True enough--I was minus collar, cravat, and coat. Hurrying these on,
and starting again, I was once more arrested:--

"Uncle Harry, must I brush my teeth this morning?"

"No--hurry up--come down without doing anything more, if you like, but
COME--it'll be dinner-time before we get breakfast."

Then that imp was moved, for the first time that morning, to something
like good-nature, and he exclaimed with a giggle:--

"My! What big stomachs we'd have when we got done, wouldn't we?"

At the breakfast table Toddie wept again, because I insisted on
beginning operations before Budge came. Then neither boys knew exactly
what he wanted. Then Budge managed to upset the contents of his plate
into his lap, and while I was helping him clear away the debris, Toddie
improved the opportunity to pour his milk upon his fish, and put
several spoonfuls of oatmeal porridge into my coffee-cup. I made an
early excuse to leave the table and turn the children over to Maggie. I
felt as tired as if I had done a hard day's work, and was somewhat
appalled at realizing that the day had barely begun. I lit a cigar and
sat down to Helen's piano. I am not a musician, but even the chords of
a hand-organ would have seemed sweet music to me on that morning. The
music-book nearest to my hand was a church hymn-book, and the first air
my eye struck was "Greenville." I lived once in a town, where, on a
single day, a pedler disposed of thirty-eight accordeons, each with an
instruction-book in which this same air under its original name was the
ONLY air. For years after, a single bar of this air awakened the most
melancholy reflections in my mind, but now I forgave all my musical
tormentors as the familiar strains came comfortingly from the
piano-keys. But suddenly I heard an accompaniment--a sort of reedy
sound--and, looking around, I saw Toddie again in te