One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. "So we are, Ma'am, by your charms," returned Mr. “I am sorry. ‘What do we do now?’ Gerald took a pace towards the girl. “Well,” she said. \" He took his milk and cookies to bed. “But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking. By the by, my dear, I forgot to ask your name—perhaps you'll oblige me with it now? Hell and the devil!—gone!" He looked around in vain. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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