"AS GOOD AS A PLAY." THERE was quite a row of them on the mantel-piece. They were all facing front, and it looked as if they had come out of the wall behind, and were on their little stage facing the audience. There was the bronze monk reading a book by the light of a candle, who had a private opening under his girdle, so that sometimes his head was thrown violently back, and one looked down into him and found him full of brimstone matches. Then the little boy leaning against a greyhound; he was made of Parian, very fine Parian too, so that one would expect to find a glass cover over him: but no ; the glass cover stood over a cat, and a cat made of worsted too: still it was a very old cat, fifty years old in fact. There was another young person there, young like the boy leaning on a greyhound, and she too was of Parian: she was very fair in front, but behind, ah, that is a secret which it is not quite time yet to tell. One other stood there, at least she seemed to stand, but nobody could see her feet, for her dress was so very wide and so finely flounced. She was the china girl that rose out of a pen-wiper. The fire in the grate below was of soft coal, and flashed up and down, throwing little jets of flame up that made very pretty foot-lights. So here was a stage, and here were the actors, but where was the audience? O, the Audience was in the arm-chair in front. He had a special seat; he was a critic, and could get up when he wanted to, when the play became tiresome, and go out. وو "It is painful to say such things out loud,' said the Boy-leaning-against-a-greyhound, with a trembling voice, "but we have been together so long, and these people round us never will go away. Dear girl, will you? - you know." It was the Parian girl that he spoke to, but he did not look at her; he could not, he was leaning against the greyhound; he only looked at the Audience. "I am not quite sure," she coughed. "If now you were under a glass-case.' وو "I am under a glass-case," spoke up the Cat-made-of-worsted. "Marry me. I am fifty years old. Marry me, and live under a glass-case." "Shocking!" said she. "How can you? Fifty years old, too! That would indeed be a match!' وو Marry!" muttered the bronze Monk-reading-a-book. "A match! I am full of matches, but I don't marry. Folly!" وو "You stand up very straight, neighbor," said the Cat-made-of-worsted. "I never bend," said the bronze Monk-reading-a-book. "Life is earnest. I read a book by a candle. I am never idle.” 66 The Cat-made-of-worsted grinned to himself. "You've got a hinge in your back," said he. They open you in the middle; your head flies back. How the blood must run down. And then you're full of brimstone matches. He! he!" and the Cat-made-of-worsted grinned out loud. The Boy-leaning-against-a-greyhound spoke again, and sighed, "I am of Parian, you know, and there is no one else here of Parian, except yourself." "And the greyhound," said the Parian girl. "Yes, and the greyhound," said he, eagerly. "He belongs to me. Come, a glass-case is nothing to it. We could roam; 0, we could "I don't like roaming." "Then we could stay at home, and lean against the greyhound." |