s kind, was invaluable.
The son was a mere donkey; a silly, simpering, well-dressed young
gentleman, the owner of no more than the eighth of an idea, and of a
very fine set of teeth, which he constantly exhibited like a sign or
advertisement of his shop. Appended to everything he uttered were a
preface and postscript, in the form of a sort of Billy-goat grin.

"He! he! he! he! Fayther regrets emezingly he caint come, being called
to attend the Duchess of Dilborough. He! he! he! he!"

As we have already said that it was in pure compliment to the father
that the son was invited, and not at all for the sake of his own
company, his presence was a grievous aggravation of the disappointment.

The next knock announced Miss Snubbleston. But where was her carriage?
Why, it had been newly varnished, and they might scratch her panels with
the hampers; and then she was afraid of her springs. So here was Miss
Snubbleston without her carriage, for the convenience of which alone she
had been invited, considered by the rest in exactly the same light as
young Mr. Wrench without old Mr. Wrench,--_id est_, a damper. A new
arrangement was the necessary consequence; and the baskets, under the
superintendence of a servant, were jolted down in a hackney-coach, to be
embarked at Westminster. But Miss Snubbleston brought with her a
substitute, which was by no means a compensation. Cupid, her wretched,
little, barking, yelping, Dutch pug, had eaten something that had
disagreed with him, and his fair mistress would not "for worlds" have
left him at home while he was so indisposed. Well, no one chose to be
the first to object to the intruder, so Cupid was received.

"But where can Uncle John and his friend be? We shall lose the tide,
that's certain," was scarcely uttered by Mr. Bagshaw, when in came our
uncle, together with the long-expected Jack Richards.

The usual introductions over, Mr. Richards saluted everybody with the
self-sufficient swagger of a vulgar lion.

"The day smiles auspicious, sir," said Bagshaw, who thought it requisite
he should throw off something fine to so celebrated a person.

"Smile?--a broad grin, I call it, sir." And here was a general laugh.

"O, excellent!"

"Capital!"

Uncle John, proud of his friend, whispered in Bagshaw's ear, "You see,
Jack's beginning." And now hats and gloves were in motion.

"You have got your flute, Frederick?"

"Yes, mother," was the reply.

"Lau, ma," cried Miss Corinna, "if I