I fear you may be weary of my story. I have much more that I could
relate, but I have already been too long.

I am, as you see, ragged and worn, but the dear family have an
affection for me still, as well as for all the rest of us; and so I
am allowed to remain here in this most respectable company. I trust
the wig will now give us his history for which we have waited so
long."

"There is time enough before eight o'clock for the story of the
wig," said Frank, "if you can remember it, Mother. He ought to tell
his story now, as he promised."

"As the wig began to speak," said their mother, "he gave a slight
hitch on one side, just as if some one pushed him up a little, and
then, after a short pause, began thus: "You will be astonished,
perhaps, to know that it is more than a hundred years since I first
saw the light. None of you have lived so long, or seen as much as I
have. I cannot tell all I have seen or known. It would take too
long, and weary you too much. I can only give a slight sketch of my
long life.

In the year seventeen hundred and fifty, the baby head upon which I
grew came into this strange world in which we live. O, how happy was
the mother who saw me for the first time! How full was her joy when
she stroked the small head of her little girl, and exclaimed, "How
beautiful and soft her hair is! softer than velvet or satin." Even
then, every one said, "What a beautiful head of hair! What a lovely
baby!"