"A very worthy citizen of my town. Dobbs had a snug home, and knew a sweet little angel who hadn't a pair of wings behind her shoulders and couldn't fly away, and he longed for an opportunity to invite her to take possession of his domicile. On a certain evening Dobbs was sitting alone on his porch in the moonlight, and was indulging in a delicious reverie, in which visions of future felicity became beautifully apparent. In ten years after this angelic being had taken charge of his domestic affairs he would have--here Dobbs began to count on his fingers--one--two--three--four--five--six--yes, seven sweet little cherubs fluttering around him,--three girls and four boys,--two of them twins, and the finest fellows you ever saw in your life. Here Dobbs snatched up his hat and hurried off to see Susan, fully determined on a matrimonial proposal. But when the unlucky Dobbs entered the parlor he found one of the mystic brotherhood seated by her side. Dobbs waited until a late hour, and was compelled to go home without an opportunity of saying a word on the important subject which occupied all his thoughts. Dobbs dreamed of Susan and the seven sweet little cherubs every night, and every evening, when he called to see her, he found one of the order on duty in the parlor. Poor Dobbs wanted to ask Susan a simple question, but doubted the propriety of doing so in the presence of witnesses. On one occasion Dobbs lingered to a late hour, in the hope that Perch, who was seated by the side of Susan, would leave. The clock struck twelve and Perch still remained on duty. It was then that Dobbs began to seriously apprehend his fate. Unless Azrael should interpose and remove Perch and his brethren to another sphere of existence, his house would never become the habitation of an angel and seven sweet little cherubs. That night Dobbs went home in despair and wished he was a ghost." "A what?"