s wife and little girl can run into either port when
so disposed. As Mrs L, however (to use his own phraseology), is
almost always to be found at anchor in the Brooke harbour, he usually
kills both with the same visit. I have not been to see him yet in the
new abode, and do not know what the celebrated Maggie thinks of it.

"When you find Leather, poor fellow, tell him that his mother and
sister are very well. The former is indefatigable in knitting those
hundreds of socks and stockings for poor people, about which there has
been, and still is, and I think ever will be, so much mystery. The
person who buys them from her must be very deep as well as honest, for
no inquiries ever throw any fresh light on the subject, and he--or
she, whichever it is--pays regularly as the worsted work is
delivered--so I'm told! It is a little old lady who pays--but I've
reason to believe that she's only a go-between--some agent of a
society for providing cheap clothing for the poor, I fancy, which the
poor stand very much in need of, poor things! Your good mother helps
in this work--at least so I am told, but I'm not much up in in the
details of it yet. I mean to run down to see them in a few days and
hear all about it.

"Stride, I forgot to say, is allowed to smoke a pipe in your mother's
parlour when he pays her a visit. This is so like her amiability, for
she hates tobacco as much as I do. I ventured on a similarly amiable
experiment one day when the worthy Captain dined with me, but the
result was so serious that I have not ventured to repeat it. You
remember my worthy housekeeper, Mrs Bland? Well, she kicked over the
traces and became quite unmanageable. I had given Stride leave to
smoke after dessert, because I had a sort of idea that he could nor
digest his food without a pipe. You know my feelings with regard to
_young_ fellows who try to emulate chimneys, so you can understand
that my allowing the Captain to indulge was no relaxation of my
principles, but was the result of a strong objection I had to spoil
the dinner of a man who was somewhat older than myself by cramming my
principles down his throat.

"But the moment that Mrs Bland entered I knew by the glance of her
eye, as well as by the sniff of her nose, that a storm was brewing
up--as Stride puts it--and I was not wrong. The storm burst upon me
that evening. It's impossible, and might b