"Pray, dear Mother," said the boys, "tell us what else you heard inthe old garret."
"You know," said she, "it was on a rainy Sunday when my mother sentme up there with my book, Pilgrim's Progress. This book alwaysdelighted me, and set my fancy to work in some way or other.
After reading a while, I began to look at the queer old things inthe garret. Pussy began to purr louder and louder, and at last Ifell again into the same dreamy sleep that I was in at first.
Presently I heard the same confused sound which I heard before whenthe old tenants of the garret began to speak. There seemed also tobe a slight motion among them, and a sort of mysterious appearancecame over the whole apartment, as if they were all living, thoughvery shadowy beings. Presently I heard the creak of the curlingtongs, and he uttered these words:—
"I think we have all been wronged by our friend the wig; he approvedof our all relating our own histories, and promised that, after wehad done so, he would give us his, frankly and truly, as we havedone; instead of that he, as well as the rest of us, fell asleepwhen our friend spinning wheel related her story; and, when we allwaked up, he did not fulfil his promise. I move that he be requestednow to give us a faithful account of his whole life, till he wasconsigned with us to this dark, gloomy old place. I probably havebeen more intimately acquainted with him than any one present; foronce or twice I have assisted in smoothing, or rather frizzing, hisruffled hairs, and making him fit for company; and, with your leave,my friends, I urge him in your name to relate his history." A sortof hum of approbation sounded through the long, dark old garret, andthen the wig spoke.
"Friend Frizzle is right: I did agree to relate my adventures, but Isaid I would wait till all had told their stories; now, here are twoof this brilliant company that have not said one word of themselves,that comical coat and that old cloak; after they have related theirhistory I will relate mine. The wig hitched a little on his block,and was silent.
"I am ready," said the coat, "to tell all I know of myself, and Ishall not keep you long, I trust. My friend the baize gown and I hadthe same origin on the back of a sheep, only I was of a nicertexture, and had, from my earliest days, a more refined character;and, of course, was used for higher purposes. Major Sword there mayknow perhaps that I had as much to do with making the major ofCadets as he had, only I did not make people run when they looked atme, as he says he did.
I was originally of the most delicate white, and I was made into oneof the very first coats that ever appeared on the parade as one ofthe Governor's guards. I think I did more to make the major than myLord Sword did. Think of a major without a coat! He would not be amajor, for a moment. He would be hooted at. Now, even were hewithout a sword, and had me, such as I once was, on his back, hewould still be known as a major of the Cadets."
"Self-glorification! Come to your story," cried the musket, with abounce.
"I will," said the coat. "I was, as I have told you, the major'smilitary coat, admired by all who looked at me; and I appeared oftenon parade days till he gave up his office, and