Then I knew what would follow. How night and day that mother would live only for her twins, how she would cheerfully sacrifice her night's rest to them; how she would go downstairs, even before it was judicious, to see to her husband's meals. Verily, with the mother's milk that fed those babes, the Black Ram would run out of the Fothergill soul. There was no need for me to tarry. I went forth, and as I issued into the street heard the clock strike one. "Bless me!" I exclaimed, "I have spent an hour in the porch. What will my wife say?" I walked home as fast as I could in my fur coat. When I arrived I found Bessie up. "Oh, Bessie!" said I, "with your cold you ought to have been in bed." "My dear Edward," she replied, "how could I? I had lain down, but when I heard of the accident I could not rest. Have you been hurt?" "My head is somewhat contused," I replied. "Let me feel. Indeed, it is burning. I will put on some cold compresses." "But, Bessie, I have a story to tell you." "Oh! never mind the story, we'll have that another day. I'll send for some ice from the fishmonger to-morrow for your head." * * * * * I did eventually tell my wife the story of my experience in the porch of Fifewell on St. Mark's eve. I have since regretted that I did so; for whenever I cross her will, or express my determination to do something of which she does not approve, she says: "Edward, Edward! I very much fear there is still in you too much Black Ram." A HAPPY RELEASE Mr. Benjamin Woolfield was a widower. For twelve months he put on mourning. The mourning was external, and by no means represented the condition of his feelings; for his married life had not been happy. He and Kesiah had been unequally yoked together. The Mosaic law forbade the union of the ox and the ass to draw one plough; and two more uncongenial creatures than Benjamin and Kesiah could hardly have been coupled to draw the matrimonial furrow. She was a Plymouth Sister, and he, as she repeatedly informed him whenever he indulged in light reading, laughed, smoked, went out shooting, or drank a glass of wine, was of the earth, earthy, and a miserable worldling.