Now it did occur that when Nicholas was yet in womanish attire, he showed a great partiality to a burning-glass, with which he contrived to do much mischief.

He would burn the dog's nose as he slept in the sun before the door.

His mother's gown showed proofs of his genius by sundry little round holes, which were considerably increased each time that it returned from the wash.

Nay, heretical and damnable as is the fact, his father's surplice was as a moth-eaten garment from the repeated and insidious attacks of this young philosopher.

The burning-glass decided his fate.