plumed pink satin cap tilted complacently over his
ear. By his look, he was good-natured; by his gait,
he was satisfied with himself. He was pretty enough
to frame. He arrived, looked me over with a smiling
and impudent curiosity; said he had come for me, and
informed me that he was a page.

"Go 'long," I said; "you ain't more than a para-
graph."

It was pretty severe, but I was nettled. However,
it never phazed him; he didn't appear to know he was
hurt. He began to talk and laugh, in happy, thought-
less, boyish fashion, as we walked along, and made
himself old friends with me at once; asked me all sorts