s we were passin, that infernal Potts burst
out laughin in my face, and cut one of my pointers over the head with
his whip. We must do something with that Independent, sir."

"We must," says the father, solemnly, "we must put it down, Barnes, we
must put it down."

"I think," says Barnes, "we had best give the railway advertisements to
Batters."

"But that makes the man of the Sentinel so angry," says the elder
persecutor of the press.

"Then let us give Tom Potts some shootin at any rate; the ruffian is
always poachin about our covers as it is. Speers should be written to,
sir, to keep a look-out upon Batters and that villain his accomplice,
and to be civil to them, and that sort of thing; and, damn it, to be
down upon them whenever he sees the opportunity."

During the above conspiracy for bribing or crushing the independence of
a great organ of British opinion, Miss Ethel Newcome held her tongue;
but when her papa closed the conversation by announcing solemnly that he
would communicate with Speers, Ethel turning to her mother said, "Mamma,
is it true that grandpapa has a relation living at Newcome who is old
and poor?"

"My darling child, how on earth should I know?" says Lady Anne. "I
daresay Mr. Newcome had plenty of poor relations."

"I am sure some on your side, Anne, have been good enough to visit me
at the bank," said Sir Brian, who thought his wife's ejaculation was
a reflection upon his family, whereas it was the statement of a simple
fact in natural history. "This person was no relation of my father's
at all. She was remotely connected with his first wife, I believe. She
acted as servant to him, and has been most handsomely pensioned by the
Colonel."

"Who went to her, like a kind, dear, good, brave uncle as he is," cried
Ethel; "the very day I go to Newcome I'll go to see her." She caught a
look of negation in her father's eye--"I will go--that is, if papa will
give me leave," says Miss Ethel.

"By Gad, sir," says Barnes, "I think it is the very best thing she could
do; and the best way of doing it, Ethel can go with one of the boys
and take Mrs. What-do-you-call'em a gown, or a tract, or that sort of
thing, and stop that infernal Independent's mouth."

"If we had gone sooner," said Miss Ethel, simply, "there would not have
been all this abuse of us in the paper." To which statement her worldly
father and brother perforce agreeing, we may congratulate good old Mrs.
Mason upon the new and polite