too was a bustling gentleman who talked loud and fast, and all eyes were upon him, and he was very shabby.

‘Well, boy,’ said Mr Witherden, ‘you came to work out that shilling; — not to get another, hey?’

‘No indeed, Sir,’ replied Kit, taking courage to look up. ‘I never thought of such a thing.’

‘Father alive?’ said the Notary.

‘Dead, Sir.’

‘Mother?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Married again — eh?’

Kit made answer, not without some indignation, that she was a widow with three children, and that as to her marrying again, if the gentleman knew her he wouldn’t think of such a thing. At this reply Mr Witherden buried his nose in the flowers again, and whispered behind the nosegay to the old gentleman that he believed the lad was as honest a lad as need be.

‘Now,’ said Mr Garland when they had made some further inquiries of him, ‘I am not going to give you anything — ’

‘Thank you, Sir,’ Kit replied; and quite seriously too, for this announcement seemed to free him from the suspicion which the Notary had hinted.

‘ — But,’ resumed the old gentleman, ‘perhaps I may want to know something more about you, so tell me where you live and I’ll put it down in my pocket-book.’

Kit told him, and the old gentleman wrote down the address with his pencil. He had scarcely done so, when there was a great uproar in the street, and the old lady hurrying to the window cried that Whisker had run away, upon which Kit darted out to the rescue, and the others followed.

It seemed that Mr Chuckster had been standing with his hands in his pockets looking carelessly at the pony, and occasionally insulting him with such admonitions as ‘Stand still,’ — ‘Be quiet,’ — ‘Woa-a-a,’ and the like, which by a pony of spirit cannot be borne. Consequently, the pony being deterred by no considerations of duty or obedience, and not having before him the slightest fear of the human eye, had at length started off, and was at that moment rattling down the street, — Mr Chuckster, with his hat off and a pen behind his ear, hanging on in the rear of the chaise and making futile attempts to draw it the other way, to the unspeakable admiration of all beholders. Even in running away, however, Whisker was perverse, for he had not gone very far when he suddenly stopped, and before assistance could be rendered, commenced backing at nearly as quick a pace as he had gone forward. By these means Mr Chuckster was pushed and hustled to the office again, in a most inglorious manner, and arrived in a state of great exhaustion and discomfiture.

The old lady then stepped into her seat, and Mr Abel (whom they had come to fetch) into his. The old gentleman, after reasoning with the pony on the extreme impropriety of his conduct, and making the best amends in his power to Mr Chuckster, took his place also, and they drove away, waving a farewell to the Notary and his clerk, and more than once turning to nod kindly to Kit as he watched them from the road.