On Monday morning I was in the garden at sunrise. Toddie was to
carry his expiatory bouquet to Miss Mayton that day, and I
proposed that no pains should be spared to make his atonement as
handsome as possible. I canvassed carefully every border, bed, and
detached flowering plant until I had as accurate an idea of their
possibilities as if I had inventoried the flowers in pen and ink.
This done, I consulted the servant as to the unsoiled clothing of
my nephews. She laid out their entire wardrobe for my inspection,
and after a rigid examination of everything I selected the suits
which the boys were to wear in the afternoon. Then I told the girl
that the boys were going with me after dinner to call on some
ladies, and that I desired that she should wash and dress them
carefully.
"Tell me just what time you'll start, sir, and I'll begin an hour
beforehand," said she. "That's the only way to be sure that they
don't disgrace you."
For breakfast we had, among other things, some stewed oysters
served in soup-plates.
"O Todd," shrieked Budge, "there's the turtle-plates again--oh,
AIN'T I glad!"
"Oo--ee--turtle pyates," squealed Toddie.
"What on earth do you mean, boys?" I demanded.
"I'll show you," said Budge, jumping down from his chair and
bringing his plate of oysters cautiously toward me.
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