He works in Fletcher the Quaker's tan-yard." "Nonsense!" cried Mr.March, who had stood looking at the boy with a kindly, even half-sad air.

"Impossible! Young man, will you tell me to whom I am so much obliged ?" "My name is John Halifax." "Yes; but WHAT are you ?" "What he said.

Mr.Brithwood knows me well enough: I work in the tan-yard." "Oh!" Mr.March turned away with a resumption of dignity, though evidently both surprised and disappointed.

Young Brithwood laughed.
"I told you so, cousin.

Hey, lad!" eyeing John over, "you've been out at grass, and changed your coat for the better: but you're certainly the same lad that my curricle nearly ran over one day; you were driving a cart of skins--pah! I remember." "So do I," said John, fiercely; but when the youth's insolent laughter broke out again he controlled himself.