He is rather dismayed when left alone with his nephews at the supper-table, feeling that he will get nothing to eat while he is called upon to supply the inexhaustible demands of the two young cormorants; and at the conclusion of the meal he hastily rids himself of them, as he fondly hopes, for the night. Vain hope! As he strolls in the garden smoking a cigar, dreaming of Alice Mayton, enjoying the fragrance of the roses, and above all the perfect stillness of everything around, he is roused from his reverie by hearing Budge's voice overhead, and is met by a demand from a little white-robed figure for 'stories.' Mr Burton is too tender-hearted to resist the wistful expression of Budge's countenance, and he complies; but he fails to compare favourably as a _raconteur_ with the absent papa; and Budge assuming the position of narrator himself, gives _his_ version of the history of Jonah. We cannot help laughing at his description of the prophet, who 'found it was all dark inside the whale, an' there wasn't any fire there, an' 'twas all wet, an' he couldn't take off his clothes to dry, cos there wasn't no place to hang em.' Songs succeed to stories, and at length Uncle Harry thinks he is free; but he reckons without his host. Budge insists that his uncle shall hear him say his prayers in the exact manner in which 'papa always does;' concluding his devotions by an immediate and pressing request for candy. But Toddie's prayer must be said first, in which a special petition is offered for the welfare of his 'dolly.' Then, the candy being forthcoming, there arises a clamour for pennies, drinks, and finally for the 'dollies;' which tiresome objects being found, Uncle Harry once more beats a retreat, and settles himself for a little serious reading, experiencing, however, one more interruption from Budge, who appears before him and requests his blessing before he finally turns in. Papa says 'God bless _everybody_,' persists the boy, when his uncle endeavours to satisfy him with a simple 'God bless you;' and we fully echo Mr Burton's sentiment: 'Bless your tormenting honest little heart, if men trusted God as you do your papa, how little business there'd be for the preachers to do!' The remainder of the night is tranquil enough, for we pass over such minor incidents as shrieks from Toddie for his dreadful 'dolly,' which has been mislaid among the bed-clothes, and the very early rising of Budge, who is up with the lark, doing his best to rouse his uncle (whose room communicates with that of the boys) from his morning sleep. Who could find the heart to be angry with the small sinner who apologises for his misdeeds by saying: 'I was only a lovin' you cos you was good an' brought us candy. Papa lets us love him whenever we want to--every mornin' he does.'