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Just look at little Miss Glove, how she's pointing her fingers! "'Could I but have my love, Who then so happy as Glove! Ah! If I from him must part, I'm sure 'twill break my heart! 'Bah! The last word was spoken by Mr. Pipe-head; and now it's Mr. Waistcoat's turn: "'O Glove, my own dear, Though it cost thee a tear, Thou must be mine, For Holger Danske has sworn it!

He was a plain man an ugly man the ugliest man in Asia, with two exceptions. His was a face to dream about and try to carve on a pipe-head afterwards. His name was Saggott Barr-Saggott Anthony Barr-Saggott and six letters to follow. Departmentally, he was one of the best men the Government of India owned. Socially, he was like a blandishing gorilla.

"Do you notice this, little Anna?" asked grandpapa. "That's a most charming comedy. Mr. Waistcoat seized the old Pipe-head and put him in his pocket; there he lies, and the Waistcoat says: "'You are in my pocket; you can't come out till you promise to unite me to your daughter Glove on the left. I hold out my right hand." "That's awfully pretty," said little Anna.

Here's a pipe-head, and yonder an odd glove; they will do very well for father and daughter." "But those are only two characters," said little Anna. "Here's my brother's old waistcoat could not that play in our piece, too?" "It's big enough, certainly," replied grandpapa. "It shall be the lover.

One of them seized it, and drew forth its contents which proved to be a pipe-head of the red clay-stone the celebrated steatite. As soon as the savage set his eyes upon it, he uttered a strange exclamation, and handed it to his companion. The latter took it into his hands, uttered a similar ejaculation, and carrying it with him, ran back to the crowd.

"And now the old Pipe-head replies: "'Though I'm all ear, Very stupid I appear: Where's my humor? Gone, I fear, And I feel my hollow stick's not here, Ah! never, my dear, Did I feel so queer. Oh! pray let me out, And like a lamb led to slaughter I'll betroth you, no doubt, To my daughter." "Is the play over already?" asked little Anna. "By no means," replied grandpapa.

Here it is the self-same flower, peering out at the Atlantic from Roundstone Bay; here, too, in this wild lonely place, nestles the fragrant memory of my Ottilia! What should I see in Blake's room but a rack of pipes, such as are to be found in almost all the bachelors' rooms in Germany, and amongst them was a porcelain pipe-head bearing the image of the Kalbsbraten pump!

The Indian, however, who had shown so much interest at seeing the mysterious pipe-head, was allowed to take precedence in waiting upon them; and it was into his tent that our adventurers had been carried. You will by this time wonder what there could be in a simple pipe-head, to have caused all this sudden and mysterious effect. I will tell you in as few words as possible.

Now listen to the play-bill." MR. PIPE-HEAD, a father. MR. WAISTCOAT, a lover. MISS GLOVE, a daughter. MR. DE BOOTS, a suitor. "And now we're going to begin. The curtain rises. We have no curtain, so it has risen already. All the characters are there, and so we have them at hand. Now I speak as Papa Pipe-head! He's angry to-day. One can see that he's a colored meerschaum.

We need not waste time in going into the details of the feast that followed: how the goose was delightfully plump and tender especially tender to teeth that would have scarcely observed the difference if it had been tough how, in addition to the goose, they had wild-ducks enough shot earlier in the day to afford each one a duck to himself, leaving a brace over, of which Okematan ate one, as well as his share of the goose, and seemed to wish that he might eat the other, but he didn't, for he restrained himself; how they drank tea with as much gusto and intemperance as if it had been a modern "afternoon"; and how, after all was over, the Red-man filled the pipe-head on the back of his iron tomahawk and began to smoke with the air of a man who meant business and regarded all that had gone before as mere child's-play.