The Argosy — page 237: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 MRS. MONTAGU’S GOVERNESS. I, H ARRY sat on the hearthrug tormenting an unlucky kitten; Dollie, Teddy, and Tim, in the window-recess, were enacting the story of Daniel in the lions’ den, but departing from the text of the Scripture narrative, inasmuch as the lions, Teddy and Tim, were commencing to gnaw Daniel, each having introduced a fat little arm into his mouth ; against which innovation their victim was protesting with all the power of his lungs, not altogether, it is to be feared, upon the ground of principle. Guy stood beside the table, learning a spelling lesson at the top of his voice, while Ethel, under cover of the table-cloth, was creeping along with a big pin, which would pre- sently make acquaintance with the calves of Guy’s legs. ‘Their dis- tracted mother, Mrs. Montagu, sat in their midst, the baby on her lap rattling a big bunch of keys. At last the pin reached its destination, and the youthful operator was fully rewarded for any slight expenditure of trouble, for Master Guy jumped at least a foot high, and shrieked enough to bring the house down. ‘The noise so startled Harry that he dropped the cat, which made off for the door, after bestowing a deep scratch upon the young hero’s hand by way of a parting attention; he wept long and sore, and the poor frightened baby, letting fall the keys, wailed in harmony—or out of it; while poor Mrs. Montagu would have liked to shed tears also. In time all the noisy little mischief-makers were despatched to bed, but was it surprising that their unhappy mother was worn out, pale, and tearful at the end of the day? ‘“‘T suppose those young rebels have been half killing you?” began her husband, as soon as the dinner was over and the pair were left alone. ‘‘I have no doubt that Ethel has been feeding the baby with ashes, Guy and Harry having a stand-up fight, and all the rest making noise enough for Bedlam.” This picture was so far below the reality that Mrs. Montagu dis- creetly forbore to make any reply. ‘Well! something must be done. I’ve spoken of it before, and now the thing ska/7 be done,” resumed the oracle. “We'll have a governess for them.” And rising from his seat, Mr. Montagu reached paper, pen, and ink, and forthwith drew up an advertisement, which he read aloud. ‘Wanted, a Governess. Learning and accomplishments of no consequence : strength of arm the only indispensable qualification. Apply, &c.” EGomichooks sco