arefully aside. "It
shall stand as a sign and testimony of treachery to the end. Go to
sleep, little child; but first say your prayers, so that the good angels
may sit by you all night. Don't you hear Mrs. Clayton groaning? Poor
Clayton! I most go and comfort her and soothe her pains, as Dinah cannot
do. And, now that the bad doctor is gone home, and we are all locked up
again securely, we shall rest peacefully, I trust; and so, good-night!"

CHAPTER VII.

From being the most silent of children, a perfect creep-mouse in every
way, Ernie had become fearfully loquacious under my care, and was now as
talkative as he had ever been observant.

The action that most children develop through exercise of limb had been
reserved for his untiring tongue. He had literally learned to talk from
hearing me read aloud, which I did daily, much to Mrs. Clayton's delight
and edification, for the benefit of my own lungs, which suffered from
such confirmed silence, as I had at first indulged in. His exquisite
ear--his prodigious memory--aided him in the acquirement of words, and
even long and difficult sentences, of which he delivered himself
oracularly when engaged with his blocks and dominoes.

He told himself wonderful stories in which the "buful faiwry" and
"hollible" giant of the story-books figured largely. I am almost ashamed
to acknowledge that I would hold my breath and strain my ear at times to
listen to these murmured stories, self-addressed, as I have never done
to receive the finest ebullitions of eloquence or the veriest marvels of
the _raconteur_. There was something so sweet, so wondrous to me in this
little, ever-babbling baby-brain fountain, content with its own music,
having no thought of auditors or effect, no care for appreciation,
totally self-addressed and self-absorbed, that I was never weary of
giving it my ear and interest. Had the child known of or perceived this,
the effect would have been destroyed, and a fatal self-consciousness
have been instituted instead of this lotus-eating infantile
_abandon_--the very existence of which mood indicated genius. What poor
Ernie's father might nave been I could only surmise from his own
qualities, which, after all, may have flowed from a far-off source; but
that his mother had been gentle, simple, and inefficient, I knew full
well, from my slight acquaintance with her, and observation of her
non-resisting organization. Ernie, on the contrary, grappled with
obstacle