as dazed, while everybody gave 'im good
advice, and said 'ow thankful he ought to be that the cook 'ad saved
him by 'is dreaming. And by and by Emily came downstairs agin with the
presents he 'ad given 'er and put them on the table in front of 'im.

"There's everything there but that little silver brooch you gave me,
Joseph," she ses, "and I lost that the other evening when I was out
with--with--for a walk."

Joseph tried to speak, but couldn't.

"It was six-and-six, 'cos I was with you when you bought it," ses Emily;
"and as I've lost it, it's on'y fair I should pay for it."

She put down 'arf a sovereign with the presents, and Joseph sat staring
at it as if he 'ad never seen one afore.

"And you needn't mind about the change, Joseph," ses Emily; "that'll
'elp to make up for your disappointment."

Old Bill tried to turn things off with a bit of a laugh. "Why, you're
made o' money, Emily," he ses.

"Ah! I haven't told you yet," ses Emily, smiling at him; "that's a
little surprise I was keeping for you. Aunt Emma--pore Aunt Emma, I
should say--died while you was away and left me all 'er furniture and
two hundred pounds."

Joseph made a choking noise in his throat and then 'e got up, leaving
the presents and the 'arf-sovereign on the table, and stood by the door,
staring at them.

"Good-night all," he ses. Then he went to the front door and opened it,
and arter standing there a moment came back as though he 'ad forgotten
something.

"Are you coming along now?" he ses to the cook.

"Not just yet," ses the cook, very quick.

"I'll wait outside for you, then," ses Joseph, grinding his teeth.
"Don't be long."

ANGELS' VISITS

[Illustration: Angel's Visits 256]

MR. WILLIAM JOBLING leaned against his door-post, smoking. The evening
air, pleasant in its coolness after the heat of the day, caressed his
shirt-sleeved arms. Children played noisily in the long, dreary street,
and an organ sounded faintly in the distance. To Mr. Jobling, who had
just consumed three herrings and a pint and a half of strong tea, the
scene was delightful. He blew a little cloud of smoke in the air, and
with half-closed eyes corrected his first impression as to the tune
being played round the corner.

"Bill!" cried the voice of Mrs. Jobling, who was washing-up in the tiny
scullery.

"'Ullo!" responded Mr. Jobling, gruffly.

"You've been putting your wet teaspoon in the sugar-basin, and--well, I
declare, if you haven't done