, and certainly
some steps above the boys on the landing.

I did not, however, obtain any advance in my weekly wages; but on
"good-days" got a douceur, varying from half a crown to half a sovereign!
and looked upon myself as a made man. Most of the receipts went to my
father; whatever he returned to me I spent at a neighbouring book-stall,
and in the course of twelve months I possessed a library of most amusing
and instructive literature,--Heaven knows! of a most miscellaneous
character, for I had no one to guide me in the selection.

Among Mr. Timmis's numerous clients, was one Mr. Cornelius Crobble, a man
of most extraordinary dimensions; he was also a "chum" of, and frequently
made one of a party with, his friend Mr. Wallis, and other croneys, to
white-bait dinners at Blackwall, and other intellectual banquets. In
fact, he seldom made his appearance at the office, but the visit ended in
an engagement to dine at some "crack-house" or other. The cost of the
"feed," as Mr. Timmis termed it, was generally decided by a toss of "best
two and three;" and somehow it invariably happened that Mr. Crobble lost;
but he was so good-humoured, that really it was a pleasure, as Mr. Wallis
said, to "grub" at his expense.

They nick-named him Maximo Rotundo--and he well deserved the title.

"Where's Timmis?" said he, one day after he had taken a seat, and puffed
and blowed for the space of five minutes--"Cuss them stairs; they'll be
the death o' me."

I ran to summon my master.

"How are you, old fellow?" demanded Mr. Timmis; "tip us your fin."

"Queer!" replied Mr. Crobble,--tapping his breast gently with his fat
fist, and puffing out his cheeks--to indicate that his lungs were
disordered.

"What, bellows to mend?" cried my accomplished patron-- D___ me, never
say die!"

"Just come from Doctor Sprawles: says I must take exercise; no malt
liquor--nothing at breakfast--no lunch--no supper."

"Why, you'll be a skeleton--a transfer from the consolidated to the
reduced in no time," exclaimed Mr. Timmis; and his friend joined in the
laugh.

"I was a-thinking, Timmis--don't you belong to a cricketclub?"

"To be sure."

--"Of joining you."

"That's the ticket," cried Timmis--"consider yourself elected; I can
carry any thing there. I'm quite the cock of the walk, and no mistake.
Next Thursday's a field-day--I'll introduce you. Lord! you'll soon be
right as a trivet."

Mr Wallis was summoned, and the affair was soon ar