'"You wouldn't subscribe for the Rathdrum blanket and potato fund; you,
who come out of the parish," says I, "and whose grandfather, honest man,
kept cows there."

'"Will twenty guineas be enough, dearest Lady Clapperclaw?"

'"Twenty guineas is sufficient," says I, and she paid them; so I said,
"Blanche may come, but not you, mind:" and she left me with a world of
thanks.

'Would you believe it?--when my ball came, the horrid woman made her
appearance with her daughter!

"Didn't I tell you not to come?" said I, in a mighty passion. "What
would the world have said?" cries my Lady Muggins: "my carriage is gone
for Sir Alured to the Club; let me stay only ten minutes, dearest Lady
Clapperclaw."

'"Well as you are here, madam, you may stay and get your supper," I
answered, and so left her, and never spoke a word more to her all night.

'And now,' screamed out old Lady Clapperclaw, clapping her hands, and
speaking with more brogue than ever, 'what do you think, after all
my kindness to her, the wicked, vulgar, odious, impudent upstart of s
cowboy's granddaughter, has done?--she cut me yesterday in Hy' Park, and
hasn't sent me a ticket for her ball to-night, though they say Prince
George is to be there.'

Yes, such is the fact. In the race of fashion the resolute and active