JANE TAYLOR.


'It is come! Felix, it is come!'

So cried, shouted, shrieked a chorus, as a street door was torn open
to admit four boys, with their leathern straps of books over their
shoulders. They set up a responsive yell of 'Jolly! Jolly!' which
being caught up and re-echoed by at least five voices within, caused
a considerable volume of sound in the narrow entry and narrower
staircase, up which might be seen a sort of pyramid of children.

'Where is it?' asked the tallest of the four arrivals, as he soberly
hung up his hat.

'Mamma has got it in the drawing-room, and Papa has been in ever
since dinner,' was the universal cry from two fine-complexioned,
handsome girls, from a much smaller girl and boy, and from a creature
rolling on the stairs, whose sex and speech seemed as yet uncertain.

'And where's Cherry?' was the further question; 'is she there too?'

'Yes, but--' as he laid his hand on the door-- 'don't open the letter
there. Get Cherry, and we'll settle what to do with it.'

'O Felix, I've a stunning notion!'

'Felix, promise to do what I want!'

'Felix, do pray buy me some Turkish delight!'