oom--and its wonderful chimney carving.
I made a bid to the landlord for it, panels, mirror, and all, but
he referred me to Squire Parkyn, the landlord. I think I may get
it, as the Squire loves hard coin. When I have it up over my
mantel-piece here you must run over and give me your opinion on it.
By the way, clay has been discovered on the Tremenhuel Estate, just
at the back of the "Indian Queens": at least, I hear that Squire
Parkyn is running a Company, and is sanguine. You remember the
tarn behind the inn? They made an odd discovery there when
draining it for the new works. In the mud at the bottom was
imbedded the perfect skeleton of a man. The bones were quite clean
and white. Close beside the body they afterwards turned up a
silver snuff-box, with the word "Fui" on the lid. "Fui" was the
motto of the Cardinnocks, who held Tremenhuel before it passed to
the Parkyns. There seems to be no doubt that these are the bones
of the last Squire, who disappeared mysteriously more than a
hundred years ago, in consequence of a love affair, I'm told.
It looks like foul play; but, if so, the account has long since
passed out of the hands of man.

Yours ever, David E. Mainwaring.

P.S.--I reopen this to say that Squire Parkyn has accepted my offer
for the chimney-piece. Let me hear soon that you'll come and look
at it and give me your opinion.

THE TWO HOUSEHOLDERS.

_Extract from the Memoirs of Gabriel Foot, Highwayman._

I will say this--speaking as accurately as a man may, so long
afterwards--that when first I spied the house it put no desire in me but
just to give thanks.

For conceive my case. It was near mid-night, and ever since dusk I had
been tramping the naked moors, in the teeth of as vicious a nor'-wester
as ever drenched a man to the skin, and then blew the cold home to his
marrow. My clothes were sodden; my coat-tails flapped with a noise like
pistol-shots; my boots squeaked as I went. Overhead, the October moon
was in her last quarter, and might have been a slice of finger-nail for
all the light she afforded. Two-thirds of the time the wrack blotted
her out altogether; and I, with my stick clipped tight under my armpit,
eyes puckered up, and head bent aslant, had to keep my wits alive to
distinguish the road from the black heath to right and left. For three
hours I had met neither man nor man's dw