The horses went at a gentle trot, and the goat followed very closely.
When within a minute of the depot the train swept in. I gave the horses
the whip, looked, and saw the boys close behind me. Nothing but the
sharpest of turns saved me from a severe accident. As it was, I heard
two hard thumps upon the wooden wall, and two frightful howls, and saw
both my nephews mixed up on the platform, while the driver of the stage
growled in my ear, "What in thunder did you let 'em hitch that goat to
your axletree for?"

How the goat's head and shoulders maintained their normal connection
during the last minute of my drive, I leave naturalists to explain.
Fortunately, the children had struck on their heads, and the Lawrence-
Burton skull is a marvel of solidity. I set them on their feet, promised
them all the candy they could eat for a week, and hurried them to the
other side of the depot. Budge rushed at Tom, exclaiming, "See my goat,
papa?"

Helen was somewhat concerned about the children, but found time to look
at me with so much of sympathy, humour, affection, and condescension
that I really felt relieved when we reached the house. And how
gloriously the rest of the day passed off! We had a delightful little
lunch, and Tom brought up a bottle of Roederer, and we drank to "her and
her mother." Then Helen proposed, "The makers of the match--Budge and
Toddie," which was honoured with bumpers. The gentlemen toasted did not
respond, but stared so curiously I sprang from my chair and kissed them
soundly, while Helen and Tom exchanged significant glances.

Young as they are, I find frequent reason to be jealous of them, but
artifice alone can prevent them monopolising the time of an adorable