Such is the constitution of the inhabitants of this dear Island of Britain, so falsely accused by the Great Napoleon of being a nation of shopkeepers.

Here let any one proclaim himself Above Buttons, and act on the assumption, his fellows with one accord hoist him on their heads, and bear him aloft, sweating, and groaning, and cursing, but proud of him! And if he can contrive, or has any good wife at home to help him, to die without going to the dogs, they are, one may say, unanimous in crying out the same eulogistic funeral oration as that commenced by Kilne, the publican, when he was interrupted by Barnes, the butcher, 'Now, there's a man!--' Mrs.Harrington was sitting in her parlour with one of her married nieces, Mrs.Fiske, and on reading Lady Racial's card she gave word for her to be shown up into the drawing-room.

It was customary among Mrs.
Harrington's female relatives, who one and all abused and adored the great Mel, to attribute his shortcomings pointedly to the ladies; which was as much as if their jealous generous hearts had said that he was sinful, but that it was not his fault.

Mrs.Fiske caught the card from her aunt, read the superscription, and exclaimed: 'The idea! At least she might have had the decency! She never set her foot in the house before--and right enough too! What can she want now?
I decidedly would refuse to see her, aunt!' The widow's reply was simply, 'Don't be a fool, Ann!' Rising, she said: 'Here, take poor Jacko, and comfort him till I come back.' Jacko was a middle-sized South American monkey, and had been a pet of her husband's.

He was supposed to be mourning now with the rest of the family.