The claim for the seat of honour on Uncle Moyese's knee was
clamorously disputed, and the old gentleman was endeavouring to settle it
to the satisfaction of all parties, when a servant entered, and delivered a
portentous-looking document, tied with red tape. "Oh, the papers--now, my
dears, let uncle go. Gustave, let go your hold of my leg, or I can't get
up. Amy, ring the bell, dear." This operation Mr. Moyese was obliged to
lift her into the chair to effect, where she remained tugging at the
bell-rope until she was lifted out again by the servant, who came running
in great haste to answer a summons of such unusual vigour.
"Tell George I want him," said Mr. Moyese.
"He's gone down to the office; I hearn him say suffin bout de nordern mail
as he went out--but I duno what it was"--and as he finished he vanished
from the apartment, and might soon after have been seen with his mouth in
close contact with the drumstick of a turkey.
Mr. Moyese being now released from the children, took his way to the
office, with the portentous red-tape document that was to so greatly change
the condition of George Winston in his coat pocket. The old man sat down at
his desk, smiling, as he balanced the papers in his hand, at the thought of
the happiness he was about to confer on his favourite.
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