He took a comprehensive
glance about the room; then, extracting a dish
from he closet, proceeded to imbrue his hands in
the strawberries' blood.
"Oh, John, you needn't do that; I shall have
time when I've turned the meat, made the pudding
and done these things. See, I'm getting on
finely now:--you're a judge of such matters;
isn't that nice?"
As she spole, Nan offered the polished absurdity
for inspection with innocent pride.
"Oh that I were a collar, to sit upon that
hand!" sighed John,--adding, argumentatively,
"As to the berry question, I might answer it with
a gem from Dr. Watts, relative to 'Satan' and
idle hands,' but will merely say, that, as a matter
of public safety, you'd better leave me alone; for
such is the destructiveness of my nature, that I shall
certainly eat something hurtful, break something
valuable, or sit upon something crushable, unless
you let me concentrate my energies by knocking
on these young fellows' hats, and preparing them
for their doom.
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