with all the company fourteen in number and one horse fighting outside on the roof of the vehicle,—­I repeat my dear my ill-regulated state of mind towards Miss Wozenham continued down to the very afternoon of January last past when Sally Rairyganoo came banging (I can use no milder expression) into my room with a jump which may be Cambridge and may not, and said “Hurroo Missis!  Miss Wozenham’s sold up!” My dear when I had it thrown in my face and conscience that the girl Sally had reason to think I could be glad of the ruin of a fellow-creeter, I burst into tears and dropped back in my chair and I says “I am ashamed of myself!”

Well!  I tried to settle to my tea but I could not do it what with thinking of Miss Wozenham and her distresses.  It was a wretched night and I went up to a front window and looked over at Wozenham’s and as well as I could make it out down the street in the fog it was the dismallest of the dismal and not a light to be seen.  So at last I save to myself “This will not do,” and I puts on my oldest bonnet and shawl not wishing Miss Wozenham to be reminded of my best at such a time, and lo and behold you I goes over to Wozenham’s and knocks.  “Miss Wozenham at home?” I says turning my head when I heard the door go.  And then I saw it was Miss Wozenham herself who had opened it and sadly worn she was poor thing and her eyes all swelled and swelled with crying.  “Miss Wozenham” I says “it is several years since there was a little unpleasantness betwixt us on the subject of my grandson’s cap being down your Airy.  I have overlooked it and I hope you have done the same.”  “Yes Mrs. Lirriper” she says in a surprise, “I have.”  “Then my dear” I says “I should be glad to come in and speak a word to you.”  Upon my calling her my dear Miss Wozenham breaks out a crying most pitiful, and a not unfeeling elderly person that might have been better shaved in a nightcap with a hat over it offering a polite apology for the mumps having worked themselves into his constitution, and also for sending home to his wife on the bellows which was in his hand as a writing-desk, looks out of the back parlour and says “The lady wants a word of comfort” and goes in again.  So I was able to say quite natural “Wants a word of comfort does she sir?  Then please the pigs she shall have it!” And Miss Wozenham and me we go into the front room with a wretched light that seemed to have been crying too and was sputtering out, and I says “Now my dear, tell me all,” and she wrings her hands and says “O Mrs. Lirriper that man is in possession here, and I have not a friend in the world who is able to help me with a shilling.”