detail several conversations that
took place in regard to it by various parties.

Conversation first was held between the head cook and head waiter of the
Sailors' Home. These worthies were seated on one of the dressers in the
kitchen of the establishment;--and a wonderful kitchen it was, with
culinary implements so huge as to suggest the idea of giant operators.
There was a grate that might have roasted an ox whole. There were pots
big enough to have boiled entire sheep, caldrons of soup that a little
boy might have swum in, rolls and loaves that would, apparently, have
made sandwiches for an army, and cups and saucers, plates and dishes
that might have set up any reasonable man for life in the crockery line.
But the most astounding vessels in that amazing place were the tea-pot
and coffee-pot of the establishment. They stood side by side like giant
twins; each being five feet high by a yard in diameter, and the pounds
of tea and gallons of water put into these pots night and morning for
tea and breakfast seemed almost fabulous. (See note 1.)

"It's werry unfortinet, werry," said the presiding spirit of this
region.

"So 'tis," observed the head waiter.

"Werry hard, too," said the cook, "on a man like me, with a wife and six
childer, to have his wages docked."

"So 'tis--even for a man with a wife and four child'n like me," said the
head waiter; "but it comes hardest on the secretary, poor feller. He
was just a-goin' to get spliced, an' there he's 'bliged to put it off.
He's such a good feller too."

"Ah--it's werry hard," said the cook.

"Werry," said the head waiter.

Having shaken their heads in concert, these worthies dropped the subject
as being an unpleasant one.

In Mr Stuart's drawing-room, referring to the same subject, Miss
Penelope Stuart said to Mr George Stuart--

"Well, I'm sure, George, it seems to me that it would be only right and
proper to forgive poor Kenneth, not that he's done anything exactly
wrong, but forgiveness is a Christian duty, whether it's an enemy you've
hurt, or a friend who has hurt you, that--that, how could he help it,
you know, brother, now do be reasonable, and only think of the poor boy
having to part with that great cart-horse--though it'll be the death of
him some day whether he parts with it or not, for it's a dreadful
creature, and Dan too--I'm sure the perplexities people are put to by
banks failing. Why don't people prevent them from failing? But the
wo