Then Jemimarann began to cry too.  “Oh, Pa!” said she, “isn’t he—­isn’t he a nice young man?”

“I’m hanged if he ain’t,” says Tug.  “What do you think of his giving me eighteenpence yesterday, and a bottle of lavender-water for Mimarann?”

“He might as well offer to give you back the shop at any rate,” says Jemmy.

“What! to pay Tuggeridge’s damages?  My dear, I’d sooner die than give Tuggeridge the chance.”

FAMILY BUSTLE.

Tuggeridge vowed that I should finish my days there, when he put me in prison.  It appears that we both had reason to be ashamed of ourselves; and were, thank God!  I learned to be sorry for my bad feelings toward him, and he actually wrote to me to say—­

“Sir,—­I think you have suffered enough for faults which, I believe, do not lie with you, so much as your wife; and I have withdrawn my claims which I had against you while you were in wrongful possession of my father’s estates.  You must remember that when, on examination of my father’s papers, no will was found, I yielded up his property, with perfect willingness, to those who I fancied were his legitimate heirs.  For this I received all sorts of insults from your wife and yourself (who acquiesced in them); and when the discovery of a will, in India, proved my just claims, you must remember how they were met, and the vexatious proceedings with which you sought to oppose them.

“I have discharged your lawyer’s bill; and, as I believe you are more fitted for the trade you formerly exercised than for any other, I will give five hundred pounds for the purchase of a stock and shop, when you shall find one to suit you.

“I enclose a draft for twenty pounds to meet your present expenses.  You have, I am told, a son, a boy of some spirit:  if he likes to try his fortune abroad, and go on board an Indiaman, I can get him an appointment; and am, Sir, your obedient servant,

“John Tuggeridge”

It was Mrs. Breadbasket, the housekeeper, who brought this letter, and looked mighty contemptuous as she gave it.

“I hope, Breadbasket, that your master will send me my things at any rate,” cries Jemmy.  “There’s seventeen silk and satin dresses, and a whole heap of trinkets, that can be of no earthly use to him.”

“Don’t Breadbasket me, mem, if you please, mem.  My master says that them things is quite obnoxious to your sphere of life.  Breadbasket, indeed!” And so she sailed out.

Jemmy hadn’t a word; she had grown mighty quiet since we have been in misfortune:  but my daughter looked as happy as a queen; and Tug, when he heard of the ship, gave a jump that nearly knocked down poor Orlando.  “Ah, I suppose you’ll forget me now?” says he with a sigh; and seemed the only unhappy person in company.

“Why, you conceive, Mr. Crump,” says my wife, with a great deal of dignity, “that, connected as we are, a young man born in a work—­”