THE SILVER LAKE stories. 119

that “old Miss Muggs” taught them. I
can see her this moment, as she was ©
pictured to my childish imagination,
and I well remember how I used to
think the beating of my own poor lit-
tle frightened heart, when I was shut
up in the dark cupboard, was the pat-
tering of “ Peggy’s” high-heeled shoes.

The reward for good behavior in
our school was the privilege of being
permitted, on Friday afternoon, to look
in or through a long thing, which, for
want of a better name, J shall call.a
telescope; whether in, or through, it I
never could discover, though I tried
very faithfully ; but to this tube I al-