"'That is Bliss,' said I; and we heard him singing,-- 'My little, lovely, laughing maid! So great a thief thou art, I do declare, I am afraid Thou'st stolen all my heart. 'Thou'st stolen the lily's purest white, Thou'st stolen the rose's hue, Thou'st stolen each flow'ret's beauties bright, And stolen my poor heart too. 'Well, little rogue, come help yourself, Your robberies repeat, And take the rest of the poor elf Who's sighing at your feet.' "'He accuses you of felony,' said I. 'Oh, Rosabel! why did you, after having perpetrated so many larcenies among the flower-beds, steal the poor little man's heart?' "'What would I want with his heart?' said Rosabel, pouting. "'He tells you to keep it, and makes an offer of himself. He offers you Bliss.' "'The impudent little scamp!' said the widow. 'Tell Juba and Jugurtha to come here.' "'Yes, ma'am,' said a colored girl, who stood grinning behind the widow's chair. "Two gigantic negro men soon made their appearance. "'Are the dogs in the kennel?' said the widow. "'Yes, ma'am,' said Juba. "'Oh, mother!' exclaimed Rosabel, 'you won't do that! It is a pity!' "'Indeed I will,' said the widow. 'Let them loose!' "'Yes, ma'am;' and Juba and Jugurtha grinned, and each uttered a low chuckle as they hurried from the room. "The voice of Dove was warbling another melody. It stopped suddenly, for the baying of hounds was heard on the opposite side of the house. I looked out the window, and in the moonlight could see Love and Bliss leaping over the paling fence. Dove was climbing an apple-tree, when a dog seized him behind and tore away his tail----" "What!" said the Professor. "The tail of his coat," said Toney. "Dove took refuge among the branches of the tree. "After awhile Juba entered the room showing his ivory and exhibiting a piece of broadcloth, which he held in his hand as a trophy. "'What is that?' asked the widow. "'Dunno, ma'am,--I tuk it from Trouncer.' "'Let me look,' said I. 'Why, it's Dove's tail!' "The widow shrieked with laughter, and Rosabel hid her face on the cushion of the sofa and shook as if she had an ague. I put my hand in the pocket and drew out a number of papers. "'What are those?' said the widow. "'Love-letters,' said I. 'Here, Rosabel, you can read them.' "'And those?' said the widow. "'Verses,' said I,--'songs and sonnets. Rosabel, you can copy them into your album.' "'And that?' said the widow. "'Why,' said I,'this puzzles me.' "'What does M. O. O. S. S. mean?' asked the widow. "'Oh, I know what that means,' said I. "'What?' said Rosabel. "'It signifies Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts.' And I gave Rosabel and her mother an account of the Sweethearts, which excited much merriment. "'But these letters, N. G. G. and M. W. D.,--what do they mean?' asked the widow. "'That I cannot tell,' said I. "'Do try to find out,' said Rosabel.