first you could only drop hangelic speeches,
an' that you 'ailed from the hangel spheres; but now I see ye're a
gel--oh, quite the very purtiest I hiver laid heyes on. Now, as I've
spoke my true mind, I'll hanswer yer questions in a discreet an' pious
manner. My name is Pickles--Pickles, at yer sarvice."

"I never heered such a name in all my life," said Connie.

"Wery like not. I were christened by the proper name o' James; but no
James as ever walked 'ud hold me--it didn't fit no w'y; an' Pickles did.
So Pickles I am, an' Pickles I'll be to the end o' the chapter. Now, as
to wot I wants--w'y; I wants a talk with that mealy-faced chap wot looks
as if I'd heat him up alive."

"No, I don't," said Giles. "I were only thinking as you 'ad the wery
reddest 'air I iver see'd in my life."

"Personal remarks air considered ill-mannered, young man. And let me
tell yer as my hair's my special glory. But now to business. You can't
know, I guess, wot I wants yer for."

"No, I can't," said Giles.

"That's rum; and I to tike the trouble not only to wisit yer own most
respectable mansion, but to foller yer 'ere in the true sperrit of
kindness."

"Ye're wery good; but I can't guess wot ye're up to," answered Giles.

"Dear, dear! the silliness o' folks! Now, w'en a stranger seeks yer
hout, isn't it safe to s'pose as he brings news?"

"Wull, yes."

"Next clue--shall I 'elp yer a bit? You 'asn't, so to speak, lost
something lately--thimble, or a pair of scissors, or something o' that
sort?"

"Oh, it's Sue! It's my darling Sue;" exclaimed Giles, a light breaking
all over his face. "'As yer brought news of Sue, boy?"

"Be Sue a thimble, scissors, or a gel?"

"Oh! a gel, in course--my own dear, dear, only sister."

"A little, fat, podgy kind o' woman-gel, wid a fine crop o' freckles and
sandy hair?"

"Yes, yes; that's she. I have bin waiting fur her hall night. Where is
she? Please, please, Pickles, where is she?"

"Well, can't yer guess? Where 'ud she be likely ter be? She worn't a
wandering sort o' gel, as neglected her home duties, wor she?"

"Oh no! she never stayed out in hall her life afore."

"She worn't, so to speak, a gel as wor given to pilfer, and might be tuk
to cool herself in the lock-up."

"Never--never! Sue 'ud sooner die than take wot worn't her own; and I
wish I wor strong enough to punch yer head fur thinkin' sech a thing,"
said Giles, his face now crimson with indignation.

"Well, softly, softly