ve always said so ever since.

And all this arose from those infernal boots, and that unlucky paragraph
in the county paper--I'll tell you how.

In the first place, it was taken up as a quiz by one of the wicked,
profligate, unprincipled organs of the London press, who chose to be
very facetious about the "Marriage in High Life," and made all sorts of
jokes about me and my dear Miss Crutty.

Secondly, it was read in this London paper by my mortal enemy, Bunting,
who had been introduced to old Stiffelkind's acquaintance by my
adventure with him, and had his shoes made regularly by that foreign
upstart.

Thirdly, he happened to want a pair of shoes mended at this particular
period, and as he was measured by the disgusting old High-Dutch cobbler,
he told him his old friend Stubbs was going to be married.

"And to whom?" said old Stiffelkind. "To a voman wit geld, I vill take
my oath."

"Yes," says Bunting, "a country girl--a Miss Magdalen Carotty or Crotty,
at a place called Sloffemsquiggle."

"SHLOFFEMSCHWIEGEL!" bursts out the dreadful bootmaker. "Mein Gott, mein
Gott! das geht nicht! I tell you, sare, it is no go. Miss Crotty is
my niece. I vill go down myself. I vill never let her marry dat
goot-for-nothing schwindler and tief." SUCH was the language that the
scoundrel ventured to use regarding me!

JUNE.--MARROWBONES AND CLEAVERS.

Was there ever such confounded ill-luck? My whole life has been a tissue
of ill-luck: although I have labored perhaps harder than any man to make
a fortune, something always tumbled it down. In love and in war I was
not like others. In my marriages, I had an eye to the main chance; and
you see how some unlucky blow would come and throw them over. In the
army I was just as prudent, and just as unfortunate. What with judicious
betting, and horse-swapping, good-luck at billiards, and economy, I do
believe I put by my pay every year,--and that is what few can say who
have but an allowance of a hundred a year.

I'll tell you how it was. I used to be very kind to the young men; I
chose their horses for them, and their wine: and showed them how to play
billiards, or ecarte, of long mornings, when there was nothing better
to do. I didn't cheat: I'd rather die than cheat;--but if fellows WILL
play, I wasn't the man to say no--why should I? There was one young chap
in our regiment of whom I really think I cleared 300L. a year.

His name was Dobble. He was a tailor's son, and wanted