aspect, with rows of dusty bottles, and on the upper shelf, rows of
still more dusty papers. What could the Skipper see to interest him in
the corner cupboard? Something, certainly! For now he was opening the
cupboard, quietly, as if he knew all about it and was looking for
something that he knew to be there.

"Ah!" said the Skipper; and he drew a long breath, as of relief. "True,
the words! In the corner of the parlour, a cupboard of three corners,
with bottles filled, and over the bottles, papers. Behold the cupboard,
the bottles, the papers! A day of fortunes!" He bent forward, and
proceeded to rummage in the depths of the cupboard; but this was too
much for John's conscience. "I beg your pardon, sir!" he said, timidly.
"But--do you think you ought to do that?"

The Skipper looked out of the cupboard for an instant, and his eyes were
very bright. "Yes, Colorado," he said. "I think I ought to do this! Oh,
very much indeed, my friend, I ought to do this! And here,"--he stepped
back, holding something in his hand,--"here, it is done! No more
disturbance, Colorado; I thank you for your countenance.

"Do we now make a promenade in the garden, to see your work?

"Yet," he added, pausing and again looking around him, "but yet once
more I observe. This room,"--it was strange, he did not seem to like the
parlour any better than he had liked the kitchen--"this room, to live
in! a young person, figure it, Colorado! gentle, with desires, with
dreams of beauty, and this only to behold! For companion an ancient
onion,--I say things that are improper, my son! I demand pardon! But for
a young person, a maiden to live here, would be sad indeed, do you think
it?"