versation Clem and Nattie were having, that he absently put the mass of candy he had been pulling, into his pocket to cool. It did cool, but he sold the coat afterwards, to a boy at the office.
Next time, he forgot to grease his hands, and stuck himself so together, that they had the utmost difficulty in getting him apart, but, as he said,
"It's no matter, I—I am used to it, you know!"
He capped the climax, however, by accidentally dropping a large handful, warm, on top of Celeste's head, aggravating the offense by telling her to "go quick and soak her head;" which, although it was what she eventually did, was too much like a certain slang phrase much in vogue, for human nature to endure; and giving him an angry look, the only one on record ever given by her to a man, she rushed from the room, and was seen no more that evening.
After this exploit, whenever molasses candy was on the programme, they made a rule that Quimby should sit in the corner, on the old familiar stool, and not move until all was over—a rule to which he submitted meekly.
But he was not happy. In truth, all his joys in these days were mixed with alloy, between the pointed monopoly of Celeste—who, of late, and since she had given up every one else as hopeless,
