r, which was not
quite so desirable. Although Jonathan wept not, yet did he express mute
sorrow as he marshalled him to his long home, and drank to his memory in
a pot of porter as he returned from the funeral, perched, with many
others, like carrion crows on the top of the hearse.

And now Jonathan was thrown out of employment from a reason which most
people would have thought the highest recommendation. Every undertaker
refused to take him, because they could not _match_ him. In this
unfortunate dilemma Jonathan thought of Mr. Witherington junior; he had
served and he had buried Mr. Witherington his father, and Lady Mary his
mother; he felt that he had strong claims for such variety of services,
and he applied to the bachelor. Fortunately for Jonathan, Mr.
Witherington's butler-incumbent was just about to commit the same folly
as Jonathan had done before, and Jonathan was again installed, resolving
in his own mind to lead his former life, and have nothing more to do
with ladies'-maids. But from habit Jonathan still carried himself as a
mute on all ordinary occasions--never indulging in an approximation to
mirth, except when he perceived that his master was in high spirits, and
then rather from a sense of duty than from any real hilarity of heart.

Jonathan was no mean scholar for his station in life, and, during his
service with the undertaker, he had acquired the English of all the
Latin mottoes which are placed upon the hatchments; and these mottoes,
when he considered them as apt, he was very apt to quote. We left
Jonathan standing at the door; he had closed it, and the handle still
remained in his hand. 'Jonathan,' said Mr. Witherington, after a long
pause, 'I wish to look at the last letter from New York; you will find
it on my dressing-table.'

Jonathan quitted the room without reply, and made his reappearance with
the letter.

'It is a long time that I have been expecting this vessel, Jonathan,'
observed Mr. Witherington, unfolding the letter.

'Yes, sir, a long while; _tempus fugit_,' replied the butler in a low
tone, half shutting his eyes.

'I hope to God no accident has happened,' continued Mr. Witherington;
'my poor little cousin and her twins! e'en now that I speak, they may be
all at the bottom of the sea.'

'Yes, sir,' replied the butler; 'the sea defrauds many an honest
undertaker of his profits.'

'By the blood of the Witheringtons! I may be left without an heir, and
shall be obliged to marr