Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. AN INFANT TERRIBLE, "lie who is not hammer is sure to be anvil." It was a cosy parlor into which they entered. The lace curtains and the upright piano had been brought from Paris, the comfortable bamboo chairs from China, the sofa and American rocking chairs from Boston, and the nick-nacks from Japan and various other parts of the globe—all uniting to form that refinement of luxury with which those who have pride in pluralizing their ancestors take pains to surround themselves. The door was left wide open to enjoy a view of the beautiful bay; the tide rushing in with a gentle pur almost lapped the foundations of the wooden corridor. Sometimes the heavy billows from the offing thundered in with a tumultuous dash, when doors had to be closed to keep out the drenching spray. Possibly it were better had the doors been closed now. A woman carrying a child in her arms could not so unceremoniously have entered. "Which of you gentlemen is Colonel Southampton?" she asked with the directness that denoted her visit to be of business, not compliment. With inextinguishable politeness, Colonel Southampton rose, bowed, and asked in what way he could be of use to her. "Well, sir, you see," she explained without circumlocution, "my husband he ain't well, he's been puny ever since he got that lance stuck into his side at San Pasquale, and I have just come up on the Sea Bird from San Luis Obispo to see Captain Baxter about getting pay for some beeves used by the California Battalion. And as I ain't so overly strong, and that hill going up to the fort is kinder steepish, I would like to leave my little son here until I get back." "Certainly, madam," replied Colonel Southampton with fictitious warmth, and, being on slippery ground, he struck out boldly: "Certainly...