er than he was accustomed to, and regarding the incident as
in some degree destructive of his mother's peace of mind, hailed the
discovery with an exulting cheer.

Mrs Gaff's palm instantly exploded like a pistol-shot on Billy's ear,
and he measured his length--exactly three feet six--on the floor.

To rise yelling, and receive shot number two from his mother, which sent
him headlong into the arms of his father, who gave him the red
ink-bottle, and bade him cut away and get it changed as fast as he could
scuttle--to do all this, I say, was the work of a moment or two.

Presently Billy returned with the same bottle, and the information that
the literary neighbour had a black-ink-bottle, but as there was no ink
in it he didn't think it worth while to send it. A kind offer was made
of a bottle of shoe-blacking if the red ink would not do.

"This is awk'ard," said Gaff, rubbing his nose.

"Try some tar in it," suggested Mrs Gaff.

Gaff shook his head; but the suggestion led him to try a little soot,
which was found to answer admirably, converting the red ink into a rich
dark brown, which might pass for black.

Supplied with this fluid, which having been made too thick required a
good deal of water to thin it, Tottie again squared her elbows on the
table; the parents sat down, and the Bu'ster re-mounted guard with the
blotting-paper, this time carefully out of earshot.

"Now, then, `dear sir,'" said Tottie, once more dipping her pen.

"No, no; didn't I say, plain `Sir,'" remonstrated her father.

"Oh, I forgot, well--there--it--is--now, `_Plane sur_,' but I've not
been taught that way at school yet."

"Never mind what you've bin taught at school," said Mrs Gaff somewhat
sharply, for her patience was gradually oozing out, "do you what you're
bid."

"Why, it looks uncommon like _two_ words, Tottie," observed her father,
eyeing the letters narrowly. "I would ha' thought, now, that three
letters or four at most would have done it, an' some to spare."

"Three letters, daddie!" exclaimed the scribe with a laugh, "there's
eight of 'em no less."

"Eight!" exclaimed Gaff in amazement. "Let's hear 'em, dear."

Tottie spelled them off quite glibly. "P-l-a-n-e, that's plane; s-u-r,
that's sur."

"Oh, Tot," said Gaff with a mingled expression of annoyance and
amusement, "I didn't want ye to _write_ the word `plain.' Well, well,"
he added, patting the child on the head, while she blushed up to the
roots of her hair