There were, indeed,
_optical_ delusions practiced with them; for when papa wanted his, they
were hidden behind some pickle-jar; and when mamma had carefully placed
hers in her key-basket, they were generally found in one of papa's
various pockets; when a distant object was to be seen, he was sure to
mount the near-sighted, and cry "Pshaw!" and if a splinter was to be
taken out, nothing could be found but the far-sighted ones, and he said
something worse: sometimes all four pairs were missing, and such a
scampering ensued!
We now heard a great outcry up-stairs. "Wife! Chloe! Cornelia! come and
find my drab coat!" We looked at each other in dismay, but papa was not
a man for delay, and we obeyed his summons.
"Wife," said he, beating aside the externals of man that hung about his
dressing-room, "where is my old drab coat?"
Mamma swallowed as if a dry artichoke was in her throat, as she said,
slowly, "Why, colonel, you know you had not worn that coat for months,
and as you have another one, and a _roquelaure_, and the coat was full
of moth-holes, I exchanged it with the peddler for cut glass and plate."
"Cut devils!" said papa, who liked to soften an oath by combinations;
"it was worth twenty dollars--yes, more, because I felt at home in it.
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