Page 7 (1/1)

In his withered, knotted fingers, he clutched a long bottle neck

'Butout her hand to Sanin, 'O, sir, O ht to be bled--it's an apoplectic fit,' observed the old htest notion offor certain, that boys of fourteen do not have apoplectic fits

'It's a swoon, not a fit,' he said, turning to Pantaleone 'Have you got any brushes?'

The old man raised his little face 'Eh?'

'Brushes, brushes,' repeated Sanin in Gerh he would brush his clothes

The little old man understood him at last

'Ah, brushes! Spazzette! to be sure we have!'

'Bring the hiht we not to sprinkle water on his head?'

'Nolater on; get the brushes now as quick as you can'

Pantaleone put the bottle on the floor, ran out and returned at once with two brushes, one a hair-brush, and one a clothes-brush A curly poodle followed hi its tail, it looked up inquisitively at the old h it wanted to knoas theof all this fuss

Sanin quickly took the boy's coat off, unbuttoned his collar, and pushed up his shirt-sleeves, and ar his chest and arht Pantaleone as zealously brushed aith the other--the hair-brush--at his boots and trousers The girl flung herself on her knees by the sofa, and, clutching her head in both hands, fastened her eyes, not an eyelash quivering, on her brother

Sanin rubbed on, and kept stealing glances at her Mercy! what a beautiful creature she was!