pursue her walk as far as Snow Hill, when two young gents from the I. W. D. Fire and Life were pretty sure to meet her; and then how happily we all trudged off to dinner!  Once we came up as a monster of a man, with high heels and a gold-headed cane, and whiskers all over his face, was grinning under Mary’s bonnet, and chattering to her, close to Day and Martin’s Blacking Manufactory (not near such a handsome thing then as it is now)—­there was the man chattering and ogling his best, when who should come up but Gus and I?  And in the twinkling of a pegpost, as Lord Duberley says, my gentleman was seized by the collar of his coat and found himself sprawling under a stand of hackney-coaches; where all the watermen were grinning at him.  The best of it was, he left his head of hair and whiskers in my hand:  but Mary said, “Don’t be hard upon him, Samuel; it’s only a Frenchman.”  And so we gave him his wig back, which one of the grinning stable-boys put on and carried to him as he lay in the straw.

He shrieked out something about “arretez,” and “Francais,” and “champ-d’honneur;” but we walked on, Gus putting his thumb to his nose and stretching out his finger at Master Frenchman.  This made everybody laugh; and so the adventure ended.

About ten days after my aunt’s departure came a letter from her, of which I give a copy:—­

“My Dear Nephew,—­It was my earnest whish e’er this to have returned to London, where I am sure you and my niece Titmarsh miss me very much, and where she, poor thing, quite inexperienced in the ways of ‘the great metropulus,’ in aconamy, and indeed in every qualaty requasit in a good wife and the mistress of a famaly, can hardly manidge, I am sure, without me.

“Tell her on no account to pay more than 6.5_d_. for the prime pieces, 4.75_d_. for soup meat; and that the very best of London butter is to be had for 8.5_d_.; of course, for pudns and the kitchin you’ll employ a commoner sort.  My trunks were sadly packed by Mrs. Titmarsh, and the hasp of the portmantyou-lock has gone through my yellow satn.  I have darned it, and woar it already twice, at two ellygant (though quiat) evening-parties given by my hospatable host; and my pegreen velvet on Saturday at a grand dinner, when Lord Scaramouch handed me to table.  Everything was in the most sumptious style.  Soup top and bottom (white and brown), removed by turbit and sammon with immense boles of lobster-sauce.  Lobsters alone cost 15_s_.  Turbit, three guineas.  The hole sammon, weighing, I’m sure, 15 lbs., and never seen at table again; not a bitt of pickled sammon the hole weak afterwards.  This kind of extravigance would just suit Mrs. Sam Titmarsh, who, as I always say, burns the candle at both ends.  Well, young people, it is lucky for you you have an old aunt who knows better, and has a long purse; without witch, I dare say, some folks would be glad to see her