I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight.
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