so moved him
with an account of certain kindly speeches of her own invention, which
she imputed to Dr. Mossy, that he promised to call and see his son;
"perhaps;" "pretty soon;" "probably."

Dr. Mossy, sitting one February morning among his specimens and books of
reference, finishing a thrilling chapter on the cuticle, too absorbed to
hear a door open, suddenly realized that something was in his light,
and, looking up, beheld General Villivicencio standing over him.
Breathing a pleased sigh, he put down his pen, and, rising on tiptoe,
laid his hand upon his father's shoulder, and lifting his lips like a
little wife, kissed him.

"Be seated, papa," he said, offering his own chair, and perching on the
desk.

The General took it, and, clearing his throat, gazed around upon the
jars and jars with their little Adams and Eves in zooelogical gardens.

"Is all going well, papa?" finally asked Dr. Mossy.

"Yes."

Then there was a long pause.

"'Tis a beautiful day," said the son.

"Very beautiful," rejoined the father.

"I thought there would have been a rain, but it has cleared off," said
the son.

"Yes," responded the father, and drummed on the desk.

"Does it appear to be turning cool?" asked the son.

"No; it does not appear to be turning cool at all," was the answer.

"H'm 'm!" said Dr. Mossy.

"Hem!" said General Villivicencio.

Dr. Mossy, not realizing his own action, stole a glance at his
manuscript.

"I am interrupting you," said the General, quickly, and rose.

"No, no! pardon me; be seated; it gives me great pleasure to--I did not
know what I was doing. It is the work with which I fill my leisure
moments."

So the General settled down again, and father and son sat very close to
each other--in a bodily sense; spiritually they were many miles apart.
The General's finger-ends, softly tapping the desk, had the sound of
far-away drums.

"The city--it is healthy?" asked the General.

"Did you ask me if"--said the little Doctor, starting and looking up.

"The city--it has not much sickness at present?" repeated the father.

"No, yes--not much," said Mossy, and, with utter unconsciousness, leaned
down upon his elbow and supplied an omitted word to the manuscript.

The General was on his feet as if by the touch of a spring.

"I must go!"

"Ah! no, papa," said the son.

"But, yes, I must."

"But wait, papa, I had just now something to speak of"--

"Well?" said the General, standing with hi