"Mr. Jefferson," replied old Mole saucily, "you want your nose filed. I
said in the dancing garden."

"Oh, de dancing garden, was it, Massa Ikey?" said a voice in his ear,
which caused him to palpitate nervously.

It was Mrs. Mole.

When he had spoken of the dancing garden, he had not noticed his better
half's presence.

"Yes, my dear," he said timidly, trying to look dignified the while
before the company.

"And what was you--doing in such a place as a dancing garding, Mister
Mole, sar?" demanded his dusky rib, in a voice which sounded dangerous.

"I went, my dear, to study character," said Mr, Mole timidly....

"What?" thundered Mrs. Mole.

He trembled, and faltered something almost inaudibly.

"Studyin' character," said the lady with great contempt; "losing your
character, you silly old pump--"

"My dear," remonstrated the old gentleman.

"Don't 'my dear' me," said Mrs. Mole; "you're gwine off your silly old