When Miss Snobky was so very young as to be in the nursery regions, and
to walk off early mornings in St. James's Park, protected by a French
governess and followed by a huge hirsute flunkey in the canary coloured
livery of the Snobkys, she used occasionally in these promenades to meet
with young Lord Claude Lollipop, the Marquis of Sillabub's younger
son. In the very height of the season, from some unexplained cause, the
Snobkys suddenly determined upon leaving town. Miss Snobky spoke to her
female friend and confidante. 'What will poor Claude Lollipop say when
he hears of my absence?' asked the tender-hearted child.

'Oh, perhaps he won't hear of it,' answers the confidante.

'MY DEAR, HE WILL READ IT IN THE PAPERS,' replied the dear little
fashionable rogue of seven years old. She knew already her importance,
and how all the world of England, how all the would-be-genteel people,
how all the silver-fork worshippers, how all the tattle-mongers, how all
the grocers' ladies, the tailors' ladies, the attorneys' and merchants'
ladies, and the people living at Clapham and Brunswick Square,--who have
no more chance of consorting with a Snobky than my beloved reader has
of dining with the Emperor of China--yet watched the movements of the
Snobkys with interest and were glad to know when they came to London and
left it.

Here is the account of Miss Snobky's dress, and that of her mother, Lady
Snobky, from the papers:--

'MISS SNOBKY.

Habit de Cour, composed of a yellow nankeen illusion dress over a
slip of rich pea-green corduroy, trimmed en tablier, with bouquets