I looked round for Mistrust, and easily recognised my friend by his
hare-like face, and the rage in his little active eyes. But
unfortunately, as I turned to enquire somewhat of Reverie, Liveloose
suddenly paused in his merriment with open mouth; and the whole
company heard my question, "But who was Love-the-log Faithful?"
I was at once again the centre of attention, and Mr. Obstinate rose
very laboriously from his settle and held out a great hand to me.
"I'm pleased to meet thee," he said, with a heavy bow. "There's a dear
heart with my good neighbour Superstition yonder who will present a
very fair account of that misguided young man. Madam Wanton, here's a
young gentleman that never heard tell of our old friend Love-the-log."
A shrill peal of laughter greeted this sally.
"Why, Faithful was a young gentleman, sir," explained the woman
civilly enough, "who preferred his supper hot."
"Oh, Madam Wanton, my dear, my dear!" cried a long-nosed woman nearly
helpless with amusement.
I saw Superstition gazing darkly at me. He shook his head as I was
about to reply, so I changed my retort.
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