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HALF A DOZEN BOYS.

“M-m-m-h-h-m-m-wow!”

“If you would be willing to”—

“Wow-wow-ow-ow! Wow!!!”

This time Bessie rose, took the dog, and shut him up out in the kitchen, from which place of banishment his voice could be heard, rising in bitter remonstrance against this undeserved punishment. Was he not trying to help entertain the company, to be sure? Bess was gone some little time, and when she returned her face was very red and there were traces of tears on her cheeks. They were not tears of sorrow.

Strangely enough, Mr. Muir seemed to have lost the thread of his discourse and could think of no other, so there was another prolonged silence until Bessie, taking pity on his evident discomfort, started an impersonal subject of conversation. But Mr. Muir was thoughtful, and only answered her vaguely and inattentively, so much so that Bess, in her turn, became silent, and the two sat there, staring hard at the fire, and almost wishing for a return of Fuzz to break the awkwardness of the situation. This had lasted for several minutes when Mr.