"I should like to have
something to make me think of the poor general!"
Snip, snip went the scissors with professional rapidity, and a round
piece was extracted from the back of the calf of the left leg. I
shuddered with horror; and so did the Rev. Augustus Horne with cold.
"I hardly think it's proper to cut them up," said Miss No. 2.
"Oh isn't it?" said the harpy. "Then I'll do what's improper!" And
she got her finger and thumb well through the holes in the scissors'
handles. As she spoke resolution was plainly marked on her brow.
"Well, if they are to be cut up, I should certainly like a bit for a
pen-wiper," said No. 2. No. 2 was a literary young lady with a
periodical correspondence, a journal, and an album. Snip, snip went
the scissors again, and the broad part of the upper right division
afforded ample materials for a pen-wiper.
Then the lady with the back, seeing that the desecration of the
article had been completed, plucked up heart of courage and put in
her little request; "I think I might have a needle-case out of it,"
said she, "just as a suvneer of the poor general"--and a long
fragment cut rapidly out of the waistband afforded her unqualified
delight.
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