umped-up _ad misericordiam_
blubber. Harold's could clearly be recognised as belonging to the latter
class. 'Now you young--' (whelp, _I_ think it was, but Edward stoutly
maintains it was devil), said the curate sternly; 'tell us what you mean
by it!'

'Well leggo of my ear then!' shrilled Harold, 'and I'll tell you the
solemn truth!'

'Very well,' agreed the curate, releasing him, 'now go ahead, and don't
lie more than you can help.'

We abode the promised disclosure without the least misgiving; but even
we had hardly given Harold due credit for his fertility of resource and
powers of imagination.

'I had just finished saying my prayers,' began that young gentleman
slowly,' when I happened to look out of the window, and on the lawn I
saw a sight which froze the marrow in my veins! A burglar was
approaching the house with snake-like tread! He had a scowl and a dark
lantern, and he was armed to the teeth!'

We listened with interest. The style, though unlike Harold's native
notes, seemed strangely familiar.

'Go on,' said the curate grimly.

'Pausing in his stealthly career,' continued Harold, 'he gave a low
whistle. Instantly the signal was responded to, and from the adjacent
shadows two more figures glided forth. The miscreants were both armed to
the teeth.'

'Excellent,' said the curate; 'proceed.'

'The robber chief,' pursued Harold, warming to his work, 'joined his
nefarious comrades, and conversed with them in silent tones. His
expression was truly ferocious, and I ought to have said that he was
armed to the t----'

'There, never mind his teeth,' interrupted the curate rudely; 'there's
too much jaw about you altogether. Hurry up and have done.'

'I was in a frightful funk,' continued the narrator, warily guarding his
ear with his hand, 'but just then the drawing-room window opened, and
you and Aunt Maria came out--I mean emerged. The burglars vanished
silently into the laurels, with horrid implications!'

The curate looked slightly puzzled. The tale was well sustained, and
certainly circumstantial. After all, the boy might really have seen
something. How was the poor man to know--though the chaste and lofty
diction might have supplied a hint--that the whole yarn was a free
adaptation from the last Penny Dreadful lent us by the knife-and-boot
boy?

'Why did you not alarm the house?' he asked.

''Cos I was afraid,' said Harold sweetly, 'that p'raps they mightn't
believe me!'

'But how did you ge