?"

"Well, if I walk off in a hurry, I'll make you over to young Tom
Beazeley. You're half in love with him already, you know," replied I,
laughing.

"Well, he is a nice fellow," replied she; "he laughs more than you do,
Jacob."

"He has suffered less," replied I, gloomily, calling to mind what had
occurred; "but, Mary, he is a fine young man, and a good-hearted, clever
fellow to boot; and when you do know him, you will like him very much."
As I said this, I heard her father coming up stairs; he came in high
good-humour with his interview with Captain Turnbull, called for his
pipe and pot, and was excessively fluent upon "_human natur'_."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

"THE FEAST OF REASON AND THE FLOW OF SOUL"--STAPLETON, ON HUMAN NATURE,
PROVES THE FORMER; THE DOMINIE, IN HIS MELTING MOOD, THE LATTER--SALL'S
SHOE PARTICULARLY NOTED, AND THE TRUE "READING MADE EASY" OF A MIND AT
EASE, BY OLD TOM.

The afternoon of the next day I heard a well-known voice, which carolled
forth, as Mary huddled up her books, and put them out of the way; for at
that time I was, as usual, giving her a lesson:--

"And many strange sights I've seen,
And long I've been a rover,
And everywhere I've been,
But now the wars are over.
I've been across the line,
Where the sun will burn your nose off;
And I've been in northern climes,
Where the frost would bite your toes off.
Fal de ral, fal de ral, fal de ral de liddy."

"Heave a-head, Tom, and let me stump up at my leisure. It's like
warping 'gainst wind and tide with me--and I gets up about as fast as
lawyers go to heaven."

I thought when Tom came up first that he had been at unusual trouble in
setting off his person, and certainly a better-looking, frank, open,
merry countenance was seldom to be seen. In person he was about an inch
taller than I, athletic, and well formed. He made up to Mary, who,
perceiving his impatience, and either to check him before me, or else
from her usual feeling of coquetry, received him rather distantly, and
went up to old Tom, with whom she shook hands warmly.

"Whew! what's in the wind now, Jacob? Why, we parted the best friends
in the world," said Tom, looking at Mary.

"Sheer off yourself, Tom," replied I, laughing; "and you'll see that
she'll come to again."

"Oh, oh! so the wind's in that quarter, is it?" replied Tom. "With all
my heart--I can show false colours as well as she can. But I say,
Jacob, before I begin my mano