the child-roastings! Yes, Moonshine would make it livelier here, no
doubt. A fine time, truly, for Ogres, with their discriminating
scent!--And what a moony sky! How odd, if one had a parlor with six
windows.

_D._ Seven would be odder.

_F._ Well, seven, and a moon looking into each one of 'em! An artist
would perhaps object to the cross-lights, but he needn't paint by them.

_D._ What kind of "lights" were you speaking of?

_F._ Satellites.

_D._ Oh, pshaw! don't tantalize me!

_F._ Well, cross-lights.

_D._ Now, pray, what may a cross-light be? An unamiable and inhospitable
light, like that which gleams from the eyes of an astronomer when he is
interrupted in the midst of a calculation?

_F._ No, nor yet the sarcastic sparkle in the eyes of a witty but
selfish and unfilial young lady! Cross-lights are lights whose rays,
coming from opposite quarters, cross each other.

_D._ (Then yours and mine are cross-lights, I guess!) If two American
twenty-five cent pieces were to be placed at a distance from each other,
and you stood between them----