and thence to the plundering of public-houses, was easy and natural. At last, after several hours, when sundry summerhouses had been pulled dow and some area-railings had been torn up, to arm the more belligerent spirits, a rumour got about that the Guards we coming. Before this rumour, the crowd gradually melted away, and perhaps the Guards came, and perhaps they never came, and this was the usual progress of a mob.

Mr. Cruncher did not assist at the closing sports, hut had remained behind in the churchyard, to confer and condole with the undertakers. The place had a soothing influence on him. He procured a pipe from a neighbouring public house, and smoked it, looking in at the railings and maturely considering the spot.

`Jerry,' said Mr. Cruncher, apostrophising himself in his usual way, `you see that there Cly that day, and you see with your own eyes that he was a young `un and a straight made `un.'

Having smoked his pipe out, and ruminated a little longer, he turned himself about, that he might appear, before the hour of closing, on his station at Tellson's. Whether his meditations on mortality had touched his liver, or whether his general health had been previously at all amiss, or whether he desired to show a little attention to an eminent man, is not so much to the purpose, as that he made a short call upon his medical adviser--a distinguished surgeon--on his way back.

Young Jerry relieved his father with dutiful interest, and reported No job in his absence. The bank closed, the ancient clerks came Out, the usual watch was set, and Mr. Cruncher and his son went home to tea.

`Now, I tell you where it is!' said Mr. Cruncher to his wife, on entering. `If, as a honest tradesman, my wenturs goes wrong tonight, I shall make sure that you've been praying again me, and I shall work you for it just the same as if I seen you do it.'

The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head.

`Why, you're at it afore my face!' said Mr. Cruncher, with signs of angry apprehension.

`I am saying nothing.'

`Well, then; don't meditate nothing. You might as well meditate. You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop it altogether.'

`Yes Jerry.'

`Yes, Jerry,' repeated Mr. Cruncher, sitting down to tea. `Ah! It is yes, Jerry. That's about it. You may say yes, Jerry.'

Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky corroborations, but made use of them, as people not unfrequently do, to express general ironical dissatisfaction.

`You and your yes, Jerry,' said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out of his bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large invisible oyster out of his saucer. `Ah! I think so. I believe you.'

`You are going out to-night?' asked his decent wife, when he took another bite.

`Yes, I am.'

`May I go with you, father?' asked his son, briskly.

`No, you mayn't. I'm a going--as your mother knows--a fishing. That's where I'm going to. Going a fishing.'

`Your fishing rod gets rather rusty; don't it, father?'