of observation, and put a bottle and glass upon the table, with such alacrity as to be ready to fling her arms round the neck of Rob the Grinder on his appearance at the door.

`And here's my bonny boy,' cried Mrs. Brown, `at last!--oho, oho! You're like my own son, Robby!'

`Oh! Misses Brown!' remonstrated the Grinder. `Don't!Can't you be fond of a cove without squeedging and throttling of him? Take care of the birdcage in my hand, will you?'

`Thinks of a birdcage, afore me!' cried the old woman, apostrophizing the ceiling. `Me that feels more than a mother for him!'

`Well, I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, Misses Brown,' said the unfortunate youth, greatly aggravated; `but you're so jealous of a cove. I'm very fond of you myself, and all that, of course; but I don't smother you, do I, Misses Brown?'

He looked and spoke as if he would have been far from objecting to do so, however, on a favourable occasion.

`And to talk about birdcages, too!' whimpered the Grinder. `As if that was a crime! Why, look'ee here! Do you know who this belongs to?'

`To Master, dear?' said the old woman with a grin.

`Ah!' replied the Grinder, lifting a large cage tied up in a wrapper, on the table, and untying it with his teeth and hands. `It's our parrot, this is.'

`Mr. Carker's parrot, Rob?'

`Will you hold your tongue, Misses Brown?' returned the goaded Grinder. `What do you go naming names for? I'm blest,' said Rob, pulling his hair with both hands in the exasperation of his feelings, `if she an't enough to make a cove run wild!'

`What! Do you snub me, thankless boy!' cried the old woman, with ready vehemence.

`Good gracious, Misses Brown, no!' returned the Grinder, with tears in his eyes. `Was there ever such a! Don't I dote upon you, Misses Brown?'

`Do you, sweet Rob? Do you truly, chickabiddy?' With that, Mrs. Brown held him in her fond embrace once more; and did not release him until he had made several violent and ineffectual struggles with his legs, and his hair was standing on end all over his head.

`Oh!' returned the Grinder, `what a thing it is to be perfectly pitched into with affection like this here. I wish she wasHow have you been, Misses Brown?'

`Ah! Not here since this night week!' said the old woman, contemplating him with a look of reproach.

`Good gracious, Misses Brown,' returned the Grinder, `I said to-night's a week, that I'd come to-night, didn't I? And here I am. How you do go on! I wish you'd be a little rational, Misses Brown. I'm hoarse with saying things in my defence, and my very face is shiny with being hugged.' He rubbed it hard with his sleeve, as if to remove the tender polish in question.

`Drink a little drop to comfort you, my Robin,' said the old woman, filling the glass from the bottle and giving it to him.

`Thank'ee, Misses Brown,' returned the Grinder. `Here's your health. And long may you--et ceterer.' Which to judge from the expression of his face, did not include any very choice blessing. `And here's her health,' said