The fellow would whine so comically, and cling to the doorpost so like a damp leaf to a twig, and blubber so like a red-faced baby, that it was really funny to see him.
And there was Morgan Chapel.

It was worth coming to Wheeler Street just for that.

All the children of the neighborhood, except the most rowdyish, flocked to Morgan Chapel at least once a week.

This was on Saturday evening, when a free entertainment was given, consisting of music, recitations, and other parlor accomplishments.

The performances were exceedingly artistic, according to the impartial judgment of juvenile Wheeler Street.