'"It's a child with three heads," says the old gentleman; "and
everything else in proportion."

'"Why don't you throw him away?" says Tom. "What do you keep such
unpleasant things here for?"

'"Throw him away!" cries the old gentleman. "We use him constantly
in astrology. He's a charm."

'"I shouldn't have thought it," says Tom, "from his appearance.
MUST you go, I say?"

'The old gentleman makes him no answer, but climbs up the ladder in
a greater bustle than ever. Tom looked after his legs till there
was nothing of him left, and then sat down to wait; feeling (so he
used to say) as comfortable as if he was going to be made a
freemason, and they were heating the pokers.

'Tom waited so long, gentlemen, that he began to think it must be
getting on for midnight at least, and felt more dismal and lonely
than ever he had done in all his life. He tried every means of
whiling away the time, but it never had seemed to move so slow.
First, he took a nearer view of the child with three heads, and
thought what a comfort it must have been to his parents. Then he
looked up a long telescope which was pointed out of the window, but
saw nothing particular, in consequence of the stopper being on at
the other end. Then he came to a skeleton in a glass case,
labelled, "Skeleton of a Gentleman - prepared by Mr. Mooney," -
which made him hope that Mr. Mooney might not be in the habit of