“You mean to say,” cried Mr. Wallis, “it were bootless to seek security of the shoe-maker.”

A laugh ensued; and, notwithstanding my agitated feelings, I could not forbear being tickled by Mr. Wallis’s humour, and joining in the merriment.

This sally gave a most favourable turn to the discussion.  “Come,” said Mr. Wallis, “I’ll stand two hundred and fifty—­and you, Timmis, must go the other.”

“No; d___ me, he may bolt with the cash-box, and let me in, perhaps,”
exclaimed Mr. Timmis.   I burst into tears; I felt, that from my long and
faithful services, I deserved a better opinion—­although I had no right
to expect so great a favour.

Rude as he was, he felt some compunction at having wounded my feelings; and swore a round oath that he was only joking, and I was a fool.  “Did I think, for a moment, that Wally should get the start of him; no—­I was an honest chap, and he’d put his fist to double the amount to serve me;” and then bade me “sit to the books,” and make all square before I cut my stick:  and thus happily concluded this most momentous change in my circumstances.

CHAPTER XV.—­An Old Acquaintance.

“Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass says ’very wet;’—­I can’t bear it—­I can’t—­and I won’t.”

How impatiently did I count the minutes ’till the office was closed, for I longed to communicate the glad tidings of my good fortune to my worthy father.  The old man wept with joy at the prospect, and assisted me in rearing those beautiful fabrics termed castles in the air.

His own trade, by the recommendation of the rough, ill-mannered, but good-natured Mr. Timmis, had wonderfully increased; and, by making some temporary sacrifices, he was enabled to give me an appearance more suitable to the new position in which I was so unexpectedly placed.  In a narrow alley, on the south side of the Royal Exchange, on the ground-floor, I found the counting-house of Mr. Crobble.  Under his directions, I quickly made myself master of the details of the business.  Alas! it was but the slender fragment of a once flourishing mercantile house, of which time had gradually lopped off the correspondents, whilst his own inertness had not supplied the deficiency by a new connexion; for his father had left him such an ample fortune, that he was almost careless of the pursuit, although he could not make up his mind, as he said, to abandon the “old shop,” where his present independence had been accumulated.  I consequently found plenty of leisure, uninterrupted by the continual hurry and bustle of a broker’s office, to pursue my favourite studies, and went on, not only to the entire satisfaction of Mr. Crobble, but to my own, and really began to find myself a man of some importance.

In the course of business, I one day fell in with an old acquaintance.

“A parcel for Cornelius Crobble, Esq.,” said a little porter, of that peculiar stamp which is seen hanging about coach-offices—­“Two and-sixpence.”