The door opened. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure.
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