Algernon--that was his rather peculiar Christian name--had had the
impudence to turn to the wall six beautiful engravings of paintings
done by the famous Mr. Landseer!

Mrs. Bunting remembered all the circumstances as if they had only
occurred yesterday, and yet she had not thought of them for years.

It was quite early; she had come down--for in those days maids
weren't thought so much of as they are now, and she slept with the
upper housemaid, and it was the upper housemaid's duty to be down
very early--and, there, in the dining-room, she had found Mr.
Algernon engaged in turning each engraving to the wall! Now, his
aunt thought all the world of those pictures, and Ellen had felt
quite concerned, for it doesn't do for a young gentleman to put
himself wrong with a kind aunt.

"Oh, sir," she had exclaimed in dismay, "whatever are you doing?"
And even now she could almost hear his merry voice, as he had
answered, "I am doing my duty, fair Helen"--he had always called
her "fair Helen" when no one was listening. "How can I draw ordinary
animals when I see these half-human monsters staring at me all the
time I am having my breakfast, my lunch, and my dinner?" That was
what Mr. Algernon had said in his own saucy way, and that was what
he repeated in a more serious, respectful manner to his aunt, when
that dear old lady had come downstairs. In fact he had declared,
quite soberly, that the beautiful animals painted by Mr. Landseer
put his eye out!

But his aunt had been very much annoyed--in fact, she had made him
turn the pictures all back again; and as long as he stayed there he