in the front parlour at five punctual to the moment was the Major behind
the Pembroke table with both leaves up and a lot of things from the
kitchen tidily set out on old newspapers spread atop of it, and there was
the Mite stood upon a chair with his rosy cheeks flushing and his eyes
sparkling clusters of diamonds.

"Now Gran" says he, "oo tit down and don't oo touch ler people"--for he
saw with every one of those diamonds of his that I was going to give him
a squeeze.

"Very well sir" I says "I am obedient in this good company I am sure."
And I sits down in the easy-chair that was put for me, shaking my sides.

But picture my admiration when the Major going on almost as quick as if
he was conjuring sets out all the articles he names, and says "Three
saucepans, an Italian iron, a hand-bell, a toasting-fork, a
nutmeg-grater, four potlids, a spice-box, two egg-cups, and a chopping-
board--how many?" and when that Mite instantly cries "Tifteen, tut down
tive and carry ler 'toppin-board" and then claps his hands draws up his
legs and dances on his chair.

My dear with the same astonishing ease and correctness him and the Major
added up the tables chairs and sofy, the picters fenders and fire-irons
their own selves me and the cat and the eyes in Miss Wozenham's head, and
whenever the sum was done Young Roses and Diamonds claps his hands and
draws up his legs and dances on his chair.

The pride of the Major! ("_Here's_ a mind Ma'am!" he says to me behind
his hand.)