again, little prophetess," for thus she often alluded to my Hebrew name
and its signification, "and produce my squirrel, or look well to your
wounded mole!"

This threat was not without its effect. In a deep, leafy covert I
concealed my poor dying patient, "earthy, and of the earth"--literally,
in every sense--but the squirrel still enjoyed its sequestered home on
the topmost branch of an English walnut-tree, from which it cheerfully,
but cautiously, descended at my call when I went out to carry it
almonds or filberts from the dessert (invariably served with wine to my
father, who, in observance of his English custom, sat alone some moments
after the ladies of his household had withdrawn from table), nor did
Evelyn have the despotic pleasure of abbreviating his right of tail.




CHAPTER II.


My father's marriage was solemnized very quietly in that old gray church
with its fairy chime of bells, all alive on that occasion, which stood
in the busy street not far from our quiet house. An aged and reverend
bishop, who had administered the sacred communion to Washington and his
wife when the city we dwelt in had been the temporary residence of that
chief, performed the ceremony, which, with the exception of my father's
immediate household and neighbors, none were invited to witness. When
the solemn rite was ended, I made my way to Constance, so fair that day
in her pearl-gray robes and simple white bonnet, and clasped her hand.
She stooped down and kissed me many times, to conceal her tears,