as it, to
give the desired angular form, that the paper looked as if it had been
used to make five hundred geometrical cocks and boats.
Tom met the Merrys with such fervent joy, that he never thought they had
healths, or anything else to ask after; his only object, seeming to be
the finding of his friend, who is rolled, like a mummy, in numberless
boas and shawls:--during the process of unswathing, which was no easy
job to one in a hurry, so artfully were the pins introduced, Master
Tommy treats his friend Walter to a railroad retrospective review of the
good things in store--recounting all the "lummy" things left
yesterday;--telling about the "nobby" Christmas tree Captain de Camp
gave them--though his ma' did say it was "a pretty give!"--it was stolen
out of _his_ father's garden.--My father's a jolly sight richer than
your's--he has more trees in his garden--ain't we got a "swag" of nuts,
and a "plummy" twelfth-cake--my father won it at an _art-union_, in the
city! I am to draw King--if I don't, just see how I'll cry!--Mercy Merry
shall be Queen. You shall have Punch off the cake; and ma'says I shall
have "Rule Britannia," as soon as the waves and ice have melted away.
[Illustration]
Now a knock brings more visitors, the Masters Young, in all the
ungainliness of hobbledyhoyhood--that transmigratory period when
coat-tails are first developed:--they have come with their sister Flora,
a lovely bud, expected "out" next season. Here are the Bells, the
Petits, and the little Larks, with their big brother, the "jolly Lark,"
who made his _debut_ over the top of the drawing-room-door, standing
upon the shoulders of your humble servant; who felt the "jolly Lark"
anything but light, and no joke--though the juveniles must have thought
it so, for we could hear their merry peals of laughter ringing joyously,
dispelling the silence that had hitherto prevailed, overturning the sage
injunctions of _proper_ mammas, who teach their children to behave
"pretty"--thinking _good_ and _quiet_ synonymous. Somehow, the little
fellows, unfortunately, take the Lark for Mr. Spohf, who has hitherto
done the funny in a refined style, scarcely to be imagined--an elegant,
amiable, fun,--a mixture of the buffoon and gentleman, the sublime and
the ridiculous, quite marvellous to behold,--making our little friend
(who you are aware was moulded in one of Nature's odd freaks) appear,
to tender imaginations, almost supernatural. The mistake and mis
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