ngle,
Jack Tibbets, not 'isolated."'

"'Isosceles' or 'isolated,' it is all one," said Uncle Jack, as he
rapidly performed three evolutions, by no means consistent with
his favorite theory of "the greatest happiness of the greatest
number,"--first, he emptied into the cup which he took from my mother's
hands half the thrifty contents of a London cream-jug; secondly, he
reduced the circle of a muffin, by the abstraction of three triangles,
to as nearly an isosceles as possible; and thirdly, striding towards
the fire, lighted in consideration of Captain de Caxton, and hooking his
coat-tails under his arms while he sipped his tea, he permitted
another circle peculiar to humanity wholly to eclipse the luminary it
approached.

"'Isolated' or 'isosceles,' it is all the same thing. Alan is made for
his fellow-creatures. I had long been disgusted with the interference of
those selfish Squirearchs. Your departure decided me. I have concluded
negotiations with a London firm of spirit and capital and extended views
of philanthropy. On Saturday last I retired from the service of the
oligarchy.

"I am now in my true capacity of protector of the million. My prospectus
is printed,--here it is in my pocket. Another cup of tea, sister;
a little more cream, and another muffin. Shall I ring?" Having
disembarrassed himself of his cup and saucer, Uncle Jack then drew forth
from his pocket a damp sheet of printed paper. In large capitals stood
out "The Anti-Monopoly Gazette; or Popular Champion." He waved it
triumphantly before my father's eyes.

"Pisistratus," said my father, "look here. This is the way your Uncle
Jack now prints his pats of butter,--a cap of liberty growing out of an
open book! Good, Jack! good! good!"

"It is Jacobinical!" exclaimed the Captain.

"Very likely," said my father; "but knowledge and freedom are the best
devices in the world to print upon pats of butter intended for the
market."

"Pats of butter! I don't understand," said Uncle Jack. "The less you
understand, the better will the butter sell, Jack," said my father,
settling back to his notes.

CHAPTER III.

Uncle Jack had made up his mind to lodge with us, and my mother found
some difficulty in inducing him to comprehend that there was no bed to
spare.

"That's unlucky," said he. "I had no sooner arrived in town than I was
pestered with invitations; but I refused them all, and kept myself for
you."

"So kind in you, so like you!" said my