CHAPTER X.

AFTER this lucky stroke, you may be sure I made a very grateful bow, and bounded away, not knowing whether I was on my head or heels for joy! It was well for me that I had to deal with those who did not look closely into my logic, for it was false enough. But, I believe the manner and look had as much to do with it as the matter. I found the young groom, told him I was his fellow-servant, and received the good-natured little fellow's congratulations.

"You are a made man," said he, "once Sir Charles takes you under his wing! Did n't I tell you that he cares more for a good joke, than for a character? But for all that, he will keep an eye upon you; ay, and you ought to try and get a letter or two from those gentlemen friends of yours, that you may have them

to show to the rest of the family. But mind yourself; for you have got a good berth."

Indeed I soon saw that my new master was very indulgent, for the "tiger" ordered a lunch, or rather an excellent dinner, for us both, without leave being asked or given, although he was not to pay for it. We had. finished our dinner, and were enjoying our glass after it, when the waiter came in, and all in a flurry informed the groom that Sir Charles had ordered the carriage directly.

"When I finish this glass and another," said the stripling with a provoking air of selfsufficiency, adding, as he looked at me, “We must teach those sprigs of fashion that we've tastes as well as themselves, or they'll quite forget we are men!"

I suspected that this was merely a flourish before me, to show his great independence, and I was much amused when the waiter returned with a more imperative order, and the mannikin jumped up in a fright, and ran to obey without more words. And I was glad that he was obliged to do it. It vexes me to see goodnature and indulgence imposed upon!

Too

often I have seen the best masters used the worst, and such really was Sir Charles Welde.*

The phaeton was now brought round, into which stepped Sir Charles and Colonel Nesbitt ; the other officer and the groom had horses. There was of course no seat in the carriage for me, and no horse to ride, so my new master, flinging me a whole handful of silver, desired me to get upon one of the hack-cars returning to town, and to go to him at Morrison's, in Dawson-street, in the evening.

I found that the seat on the car would only cost sixpence, and I thought it my duty to pay for our lunch out of all the money so generously given me. I did so, and a pretty penny it took, owing to the extravagant order the young whelp of a "tiger" had given at the Tavern. When I

told him what I had done, he laughed at me for my folly. But I read him a lecture upon honesty and conscience, which made him stare, and I hope did him some service. He naturally was well-disposed,

The Editor feels it necessary to state, that since it was resolved to publish this work, the names of persons and places have been generally changed.

and he liked me all the better for my good advice.

When I arrived in town, I steered directly to my kind friend the widow, to tell her my glorious news.

To my surprise she did not seem at all elated. "Was n't I the lucky fellow?" cried I, expecting great praise for my cleverness.

"It is all very well," she quietly answered, "but you might have done better.”

"How so?" said I. "If you mean that I ought to have waited for Mr. St. George's letter to Mr. Arnold, I must frankly tell you, that I was quite run a-ground. If I had stayed another day with you, I should be in your debt, or my things would have been in the pawn office."

She rather pettishly answered, that "I need n't have such an objection to be in her debt! But," she added, "still you might have done better than getting this grand place."

I could not perceive how I could have done better, having neither money nor recommendations; and I said that "I was perfectly satisfied with my day's work."

"If that be so," she returned, and reddening

to her very temples, "be satisfied with what you have done!"

By and by, she turned her head aside, and I could perceive a few tears trickling down her cheek! what was the cause of them I could not imagine. But I was touched with her emotion, and taking her nice little hand in mine, I begged she would tell me what was the matter with her; adding, that I feared "something unpleasant had occurred to her while I was away."

I could not get an answer; she seemed wholly intent on tearing up a sheet of paper, bit by bit, till she had a little heap of about a hundred atoms before her. I was both grieved and puzzled. "Dear Mrs. Butler," I said at last, "I came to this town, as I may say, a friendless lad, and I was received by you, as if I was one you knew, and treated with a kindness I shall never forget! Sorry should I be to leave you in grief! and, if I asked you what it was that distressed you, I did not do so from heartless curiosity; for everything that frets you annoys me, or I would be very ungrateful."