"And have you seen a wolf, too, that you have lost your tongue?"

At the word "wolf" she burst into tears. And then, discarding all
caution in the breaking down of her reserve, she sprang up, overturning
the wheel and rushing to his chair.

Now Richard Mivane had never encouraged his grandchildren to clamber
over his chair. He protested great fear of the sticky fingers of the
more youthful in contact with his preternaturally fine clothes; he
declared they reminded him of squirrels, which he detested; he was not
sure they did not look like rats. All this was of great effect; for his
many contemptuous whimsical prejudices were earnestly respected.

For instance, whenever 'possum was served at the pioneer board they who
partook carried their plates for the purpose to a side table. "The look
of the animal's tail is enough for me--it curls," he would say.

"So does a pig's tail curl," his son used to remonstrate sensibly.

"Not having kept a straight course so long,--then twirling up
deceitfully like a second thought. This fellow is a monstrosity,--and
his wife has a pocket for a cradle,--and I don't know who they are nor
where they came from,--they were left over from before the Flood,
perhaps,--they look somehow prehistoric to me. I am not acquainted with
the family."

And turning his head aside he would wave away the dainty, the delight of
the pioneer epicure time out of mind.

The diplomatic reason, however, that Richard Mivane was wont to shove