"That's all right," she says. "The Marchioness of Appleford is as dead
as a door-nail, and a good job too. Mrs. Captain Kit's my name, nee
'Carrots.'"

"You said as 'ow I'd find someone to suit me 'fore long," says "Kipper"
to me, "and, by Jove! you were right; I 'ave. I was waiting till I found
something equal to her ladyship, and I'd 'ave 'ad to wait a long time,
I'm thinking, if I 'adn't come across this one 'ere"; and he tucks her up
under his arm just as I remember his doing that day he first brought her
into the coffee-shop, and Lord, what a long time ago that was!

* * * * *

That is the story, among others, told me by Henry, the waiter. I have,
at his request, substituted artificial names for real ones. For Henry
tells me that at Capetown Captain Kit's First-class Family and Commercial
Hotel still runs, and that the landlady is still a beautiful woman with
fine eyes and red hair, who might almost be taken for a duchess--until
she opens her mouth, when her accent is found to be still slightly
reminiscent of the Mile-End Road.




THE USES AND ABUSES OF JOSEPH.


"It is just the same with what you may call the human joints," observed
Henry. He was in one of his philosophic moods that evening. "It all