ment, and before it had subsided James brought up "the tray," containing the remains of a leg of lamb which had made its début at dinner; bread, cheese; an atom of butter in a forest of parsley; one pickled walnut and the third of another, and so forth. The boy disappeared, and returned again with another tray, containing glasses and jugs of hot and cold water. The gentlemen brought in their spirit-bottles; the housemaid placed divers plated bed-room candlesticks under the card-table, and the servants retired for the night.

Chairs were drawn round the table, and the conversation proceeded in the customary manner. John Evenson, who never eat supper, lolled on the sofa, and amused himself by contradicting every body.O'Bleary eat as much as he could conveniently carry, and Mrs. Tibbs felt a due degree of indignation thereat; Mr. Gobler and Mrs. Bloss conversed most affectionately on the subject of pill-taking and other innocent amusements; and Tomkins and Wisbottle "got into an argument;" that is to say, they both talked very loudly and vehemently, each flattering himself that he had got some advantage about something, and neither of them having more than a very indistinct idea of what they were talking about. An hour or two passed away; and the boarders and the brass candlesticks retired in pairs to their respective bed-rooms. John Evenson pulled off his boots, locked his door, and determined to sit up until Mr. Gobler had retired. He always sat in the drawing room about an hour after every body else had left it, taking medicine, and groaning. Great Coram-street was hushed into a state of the most profound repose: it was nearly two o'clock. A hackney-coach now and then rumbled slowly by; and occasionally some stray lawyer's clerk on his way home to Somers-town struck his iron heel on the top of the coal-cellar with a noise resembling the click of a smokejack. A low, monotonous, gushing sound was heard, which added considerably to the romantic dreariness of the scene. It was the water "coming in" at No. 11.

"He must be asleep by this time," said John Evenson to himself after waiting with exemplary patience for nearly an hour after Mr. Gobler had left the drawing-room. He listened for a few moments; the house was perfectly quiet; he extinguished his rush-light, and opened his bed-room-door. The staircase was so dark hat it was impossible to see any thing. "S-s-s!" whispered the mischief

You have no shoes on, have you?" No," said little Mrs. Tibbs, who could hardly speak for trembling.

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Well; I have taken my boots off, so we can go down close to the store-roomdoor and listen over the balusters," continued Evenson; and down stairs they both crept accordingly, every board creaking like a patent mangle on a Saturday afternoon.

"It's Wisbottle and somebody I'll swear," exclaimed the radical in an energetic whisper, when they had listened for a few moments.

"Hush-pray let's hear what they say!" exclaimed Mrs. Tibbs, the gratification of whose curiosity was now para mount to every other consideration.

"Ah! if I could but believe you,” said a female voice coquettishly, “I'd be bound to settle my missis for life."

"What does she say?" inquired Mr. Evenson, who was not quite so well situ ated as his companion.

"She says she'll settle her missis's life," replied Mrs. Tibbs. "The wretch! they're plotting murder."

"I know you want money," continued the voice, which belonged to Agnes; "and if you'd secure me the five hundred pounds, I warrant she should take fire soon enough."

"What's that?" inquired Evenson again. He could just hear enough to want to hear more.

"I think she says she'll set the house on fire," replied the affrighted Mrs. Tibbs. "Thank God I'm insured in the Phoenix!"

"The moment I have secured your mistress, my dear," said a man's voice in a strong Irish brogue, "you may depend on having the money."

"Bless my soul, it's Mr. O'Bleary!" exclaimed Mrs. Tibbs in a parenthesis.

“The villain!" said the indignant Mr. | Evenson.

"The first thing to be done," continued the Hibernian," is to poison Mr. Gobler's mind."

"Oh, certainly!" returned Agnes, with the utmost coolness.

"What's that?" inquired Evenson again, in an agony of curiosity and a whisper.

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He says she's to mind and poison Mr. Gobler," replied Mrs. Tibbs, perfectly aghast at this awful sacrifice of human life.

"And in regard to Mrs. Tibbs," continued O'Bleary.-Mrs. Tibbs shuddered. "Hush!" exclaimed Agnes, in a tone of the greatest alarm, just as Mrs. Tibbs was on the extreme verge of a faintingfit. "Hush!"

"Hush!" exclaimed Evenson, at the same moment to Mrs. Tibbs.

"There's somebody coming up stairs," said Agnes to O'Bleary.

"There's somebody coming down stairs," whispered Evenson to Mrs. Tibbs. "Go into the parlour, sir," said Agnes to her companion. "You will get there, before whoever it is, gets to the top of the kitchen-stairs."

"The drawing-room, Mrs. Tibbs!" whispered the astonished Evenson to his equally astonished companion; and for the drawing-room they both made, plainly hearing the rustling of two persons, one coming down stairs, and one coming up.

"What can it be?" exclaimed Mrs. Tibbs. "It's like a dream. I wouldn't be found in this situation for the world!"

"Nor I," returned Evenson, who could never bear a joke at his own expense. "Hush! here they are at the door."

"What fun!" whispered one of the new comers.-It was Wisbottle.

"Glorious!" replied his companion, in an equally low tone.-This was Alfred Tomkins. "Who would have thought it?" "I told you so," said Wisbottle, in a most knowing whisper. "Lord bless you, he has paid her most extraordinary attention for the last two months. I saw 'em when I was sitting at the piano to-night." "Well, do you know I didn't notice it?" interrupted Tomkins.

"Not notice it!" continued Wisbottle. "Bless you; I saw him whispering to her, and she crying; and then I'll swear I heard him say something about to-night

when we were all in bed."

"They're talking of us!" exclaimed the agonized Mrs. Tibbs, as the painful

suspicion, and a sense of their situation, flashed upon her mind.

"I know it-I know it," replied Evenson, with a melancholy consciousness that there was no mode of escape.

"What's to be done? we cannot both stop here!" ejaculated Mrs. Tibbs, in a state of partial derangement.

"I'll get up the chimney," replied Evenson, who really meant what he said. "You can't," said Mrs. Tibbs, in des"You can't-it's a register stove." "Hush!" repeated John Evenson. "Hush-hush!" cried somebody down

pair.

stairs.

"What a d-d hushing!" said Alfred Tomkins, who began to get rather bewildered.

"There they are!" exclaimed the sapient Wisbottle, as a rustling noise was heard in the store-room.

"Hark!" whispered both the young

men.

"Hark!" repeated Mrs. Tibbs and Evenson.

"Let me alone, sir," said a female voice in the store-room.

"Oh, Hagnes!" cried another voice, which clearly belonged to Tibbs, for nobody else ever owned one like it. “Oh, Hagnes-lovely creature!" "Be quiet, sir!" (A bounce.) "Hag

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"Be quiet, sir-I am ashamed of you. Think of your wife, Mr. Tibbs. Be quiet, sir!"

"My wife!" exclaimed the valorous Tibbs, who was clearly under the influence of gin-and-water, and a misplaced attachment; "I ate her! Oh, Hagnes! when I was in the volunteer corps, in eighteen hundred and

"I declare I'll scream. Be quiet, sir, will you?" (Another bounce and a scuffle.)

"What's that?" exclaimed Tibbs, with a start.

"What's what?" said Agnes, stopping short.

Why, that!"

under Government." He had a good and increasing salary, in addition to some 10,000l. of his own (invested in the funds,) and he occupied a first floor in Tavistockstreet, Covent-garden, where he had resided for twenty years, having been in the habit of quarrelling with his landlord the whole time, regularly giving notice of his intention to quit on the first day of every quarter, and as regularly countermanding it on the second. There were two classes of created objects which he held in the deepest and most unmingled horror: they were, dogs and children. He was not unamiable, but he could at any time have viewed the execution of a dog, or the assassination of an infant, with the liveliest satisfaction. Their habits were at variance with his love of order; and his love of order was as powerful as his love of life. Mr. Augustus Minns had no relations, in or near London, with the exception of his cousin Mr. Octavius Budden, to whose son, whom he had never seen (for he disliked the father) he had consented to become godfather by proxy. Mr. Budden having realized a moderate fortune by exercising the trade or calling of a corn-chandler, and having a great predilection for the country, had purchased a cottage in the vicinity of Stamford-hill, whither he retired with the wife of his bosom, and his only son, Master Alexander Augustus Budden. One evening, as Mr. and Mrs. B. were admiring their son, discussing his various merits, talking over his education, and disputing whether the classics should be made an essential part thereof, the lady pressed so strongly upon her husband the propriety of cultivating the friendship of Mr. Minns in behalf of their son, that Mr. Pudden at last made up his mind, that it should not be his fault if he and his cousin were not in future more intimate.

"I'll break the ice, my love," said Mr. Budden, stirring up the sugar at the bottom of his glass of brandy-and-water, and casting a sidelong look at his spouse to see the effect of the announcement of his determination, "by asking Minns down to dine with us, on Sunday."

"Then, pray Mr. Budden, write to your cousin at once," replied Mrs. Budden. *Who knows, if we could only get him down here, but that he might take a fancy to our Alexander, and leave him his property?-Alick, my dear, take your legs off the rail of the chair!"

"Very true," said Mr. Budden, musing, "very true, indeed, my love!" On the following morning, as Mr.

Minns was sitting at his breakfast-table, alternately biting his dry toast and casting a look upon the columns of his morning paper, which he always read from the title to the printer's name, he heard a loud knock at the street-door which was shortly afterwards followed by the entrance of his servant, who put into his hand a particularly small card, on which was engraved in immense letters "Mr. Octavius Budden, Amelia Cottage (Mrs. B.'s name was Amelia), Poplar-walk, Stamford-hill."

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Budden," ejaculated Minns, "what the deuce can bring that vulgar fellow here!-say I'm asleep-say I'm out, and shall never be home again-any thing to keep him down stairs."

"But please, sir, the gentleman's coming up," replied the servant: and the fact was made perfectly evident, by an appalling creaking of boots on the staircase, accompanied by a pattering noise, the cause of which Minns could not, for the life of him divine.

"Hem!-show the gentleman in," said the unfortunate bachelor. Exit servant, and enter Octavius preceded by a large white shaggy dog, dressed in a suit of fleecy hosiery, with pink eyes, large ears, and no perceptible tail.

The cause of the pattering on the stairs was but too plain. Mr. Augustus Minns staggered beneath the shock of the dog's appearance.

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My dear fellow, how are you?" said Budden as he entered.

He always spoke at the top of his voice and always said the same thing half-adozen times.

"How are you, my hearty?"

"How do you do, Mr. Budden?-pray take a chair!" politely stammered the discomfited Minns.

"Thank you thank you-well-how are you, eh?"

Uncommonly well, thank ye," said Minns casting a diabolical look at the dog, who with his hind legs on the floor, and his fore paws resting on the table, was dragging a bit of bread-and-butter out of a plate, preparatory to devouring it, with the buttered side next the carpet.

"Ah, you rogue!" said Budden to his dog; "you see, Minns, he's like me, always at home, eh, my boy?-Egad, I'm precious hot and hungry! I've walked all the way from Stamford-hill this morning." "Have you breakfasted?" inquired Minns.

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'Oh, no! - came to breakfast with you; so ring the bell, my dear fellow,

will you? and let's have another cup and saucer, and the cold ham.-Make myself at home you see!" continued Budden, dusting his boots with a table napkin. "Ha!-ha!-ha!-'pon my life, I'm hun

gry."

Minns rang the bell, and tried to smile. "I decidedly never was so hot in my life," continued Octavius, wiping his forehead: "well, how are you, Minns? 'Pon my soul, you wear capitally!"

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D'ye think so?" said Minns; and he tried another smile.

"'Pon my life, I do!"

“Mrs. B. and—what's his name-quite well?"

"Alick-my son, you mean, never better-never better. But at such a place as we've got at Poplar-walk, you know, he couldn't be ill if he tried. When I first saw it, by Jove! it looked so knowing, with the front garden, and the green railings, and the brass knocker, and all that I really thought it was a cut above me."

"Don't you think you'd like the ham better," interrupted Minns," if you cut it the other way?" He saw, with feelings which it is impossible to describe, that his visiter was cutting or rather maiming the ham, in utter violation of all established rules.

"No, thank ye," returned Budden, with the most barbarous indifference to crime, "I prefer it in this way-it eats short. But I say, Minns, when will you come down and see us? You will be delighted with the place; I know you will. Amelia and I were talking about you the other night, and Amelia said- another lump of sugar, please; thank ye-she said, don't you think you could contrive, my dear, to say to Mr. Minns, in a friendly way-come down, sir-damn the dog! he's spoiling your curtains, Minns-ha! -ha-ha!" Minns leaped from his seat as though he had received the discharge from a galvanic battery.

"Come out, sir!-go out, hoo!" cried poor Augustus, keeping nevertheless, at a very respectful distance from the dog, having read of a case of hydrophobia in the paper of that morning. By dint of great exertion, much shouting, and a marvellous deal of poking under the tables with a stick and umbrella, the dog was at last dislodged, and placed on the landing, outside the door, where he immediately commenced a most appalling howling; at the same time vehemently scratching the paint off the two nicelyvarnished bottom panels of the door, until

they resembled the interior of a back. gammon-board.

"A good dog for the country that!" coolly observed Budden to the distracted Minns-"he's not much used to confinement, though. But now, Minns, when will you come down? I'll take no denial, positively. Let's see, to-day's Thursday. -Will you come on Sunday? We dine at five, don't say no-do."

After a great deal of pressing, Mr. Augustus Minns, driven to despair, accepted the invitation, and promised to be at Poplar-walk on the ensuing Sunday, at a quarter before five to the minute.

"Now mind the direction," said Budden; "the coach goes from the Flowerpot, in Bishopsgate-street, every half hour. When the coach stops at the Swan, you'll see, immediately opposite you, a white house."

"Which is your house-I understand," said Minns, wishing to cut short the visit and the story at the same time.

"No, no, that's not mine; that's Grogus's the great ironmonger's. I was going to say-you turn down by the side of the white house till you can't go another step further-mind that-and then you turn to your right, by some stables-well; close to you, you'll see a wall with Beware of the Dog' written upon it in large letters-(Minns shuddered)—go along by the side of that wall for about a quarte of a mile, and any body will show you which is my place."

"Very well-thank ye-good bye." "Be punctual."

"Certainly good morning."

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"I say, Minns, you've got a card?" "Yes, I have: thank ye." And Mr. Octavius Budden departed, leaving his cousin looking forward to his visit of the following Sunday, with the feelings of a penniless poet to the weekly visit of his Scotch landlady.

Sunday arrived; the sky was bright and clear; crowds of people were hurrying along the streets, intent on their dif ferent schemes of pleasure for the day; and every thing and every body looked cheerful and happy but Mr. Augustus Minns.

The day was fine, but the heat was considerable; and by the time Mr. Minns had fagged up the shady side of Fleetstreet, Cheapside, and Threadneedlestreet, he had become pretty warm, toler ably dusty, and it was getting late into the bargain. By the most extraordinary good fortune, however, a coach was wait ing at the Flowerpot, into which Mr. Au