it of my reader, who, quite possibly, has never seen anything of the sort?
I was passing a pretty little villa, which stood rather back from the road, in its own grounds, with bright flower-beds in front——creepers wandering over the walls and hanging in festoons about the bow-windows——an easy-chair forgotten on the lawn, with a newspaper lying near it——a small pug-dog "couchant" before it, resolved to guard the treasure even at the sacrifice of life——and a front-door standing invitingly half-open. "Here is my chance," I thought, "for testing the reverse action of the Magic Watch!" I pressed the 'reversal-peg' and walked in. In another house, the entrance of a stranger might cause surprise——perhaps anger, even going so far as to expel the said stranger with violence: but here, I knew, nothing of the sort could happen. The ordinary course of events——first, to think nothing about me; then, hearing my footsteps to look up and see me; and then to wonder what business I had there——would be reversed by the action of my Watch. They would first wonder who I was, then see me,
