74 J. COLE.

cheon, the smell of them shut up in a house
is horrible.”

“JT dare say Mrs. Wilson will find a place
in the basement,” I said; “for we don’t use
half the room there is down there.”

Having ordered the barrel to be stowed
away, I soon settled my visitor comfortably
in an armchair by the fire, with a cup of
his favorite cocoa by his side.

“And now, my dear,” said he, “tell me
about this burglary that has taken place, and
which has made you look as if you wanted
me to take care of you a while, and bring back
some color to your pale cheeks. And what
about this boy? Is it the same queer little
fellow who chose midnight to play his pranks
in once before? I’m not often deceived in
a face, and I thought his was an honest one.
lees

“So it was,” I interrupted; “don’t say a
word until I’ve told you all, and you will” —

I had scarcely begun speaking, when a suc-
cession of the most fearful screams arose from
down-stairs, each rising louder and louder, in
the extreme of terror. My sister, who had