corrugated shadow on the board sidewalk.

"Again, you rogue!" be exclaimed aloud. Then, as he faced about and began
to walk in the direction of the beckoning violins: "I wonder if Tom's
kitten was better, after all!"



CHAPTER III

The Rogue's Gallery of a Father Should be Exhibited to a Daughter with
Particular Care

Those angels appointed to be guardians of the merry people of Rouen,
poising one night, between earth and stars, discovered a single brilliant
and resonant spot, set in the midst of the dark, quiet town like a
jewelled music-box on a black cloth. Sounds of revelry and the dance from
the luminous spot came up through the summer stillness to the weary
guardians all night long, until, at last, when a red glow stole into the
east, and the dance still continued, nay, grew faster than ever, the
celestial watchers found the work too heavy for their strength, and
forthwith departed, leaving the dancers to their own devices; for, as
everyone knows, when a dance lasts till daylight, guardian angels flee.

All night long the fiddles had been swinging away at their best; all night
long the candles had shone in thin rows of bright orange through the slits
of the window-blinds; but now, as the day broke over the maples, the
shutters were flung open by laughing young men, and the drivers of the
carriages, waiting in the dusty street, pressed up closer to the hedge, or
came within and stretched themselves upon the lawn, to see the people