bar and coffee-room. Two
or three gigs and chaise-carts were wheeled up under different little
sheds and pent-houses; and the occasional heavy tread of a cart-horse,
or rattling of a chain at the farther end of the yard, announced
to anybody who cared about the matter, that the stable lay in that
direction. When we add that a few boys in smock-frocks were lying asleep
on heavy packages, wool-packs, and other articles that were scattered
about on heaps of straw, we have described as fully as need be the
general appearance of the yard of the White Hart Inn, High Street,
Borough, on the particular morning in question.

A loud ringing of one of the bells was followed by the appearance of a
smart chambermaid in the upper sleeping gallery, who, after tapping at
one of the doors, and receiving a request from within, called over the
balustrades--'Sam!'

'Hollo,' replied the man with the white hat.

'Number twenty-two wants his boots.'

'Ask number twenty-two, vether he'll have 'em now, or vait till he gets
'em,' was the reply.

'Come, don't be a fool, Sam,' said the girl coaxingly, 'the gentleman
wants his boots directly.'

'Well, you ARE a nice young 'ooman for a musical party, you are,' said
the boot-cleaner. 'Look at these here boots--eleven pair o' boots; and
one shoe as belongs to number six, with the wooden leg. The eleven boots
is to be called at half-past eight and the shoe at nine. Who's number
twenty-two, that's to put all the others out? No, no; reg'lar rotation,
as Jack Ketch said, ven he tied the men up. Sorry to keep you a-waitin',
Sir, but I'll attend to you directly.'

Saying which, the man in the white hat set to work upon a top-boot with
increased assiduity.

There was another loud ring; and the bustling old landlady of the White
Hart made her appearance in the opposite gallery.

'Sam,' cried the landlady, 'where's that lazy, idle--why, Sam--oh, there
you are; why don't you answer?'

'Vouldn't be gen-teel to answer, till you'd done talking,' replied Sam
gruffly.

'Here, clean these shoes for number seventeen directly, and take 'em to
private sitting-room, number five, first floor.'

The landlady flung a pair of lady's shoes into the yard, and bustled
away.

'Number five,' said Sam, as he picked up the shoes, and taking a piece
of chalk from his pocket, made a memorandum of their destination on the
soles--'Lady's shoes and private sittin'-room! I suppose she didn't come
in the vagin.'

'She