heard of to the present day.

But they will have the consolation of thinking that they did their duty
by their uncle, and consoled his declining years. It was but last month
that Millwood Hunkington (the Captain) sent the old gentleman a service
of plate; and Mrs. Barnwell got a reclining carriage at a great expense
from Hobbs and Dobbs's, in which the old gentleman went out only once.

"It is a punishment on those Hunkingtons," Miss Clapperclaw remarks:
"upon those people who have been always living beyond their little
incomes, and always speculating upon what the old man would leave them,
and always coaxing him with presents which they could not afford, and
he did not want. It is a punishment upon those Hunkingtons to be so
disappointed."

"Think of giving him plate," Miss C. justly says, "who had chests-full;
and sending him a carriage, who could afford to buy all Long Acre. And
everything goes to Miss Jones Hunkington. I wonder will she give the
things back?" Miss Clapperclaw asks. "I wouldn't."

And indeed I don't think Miss Clapperclaw would.


SOMEBODY WHOM NOBODY KNOWS.


That pretty little house, the last in Pocklington Square, was lately
occupied by a young widow lady who wore a pink bonnet, a short silk
dress, sustained by a crinoline, and a light blue mantle, or over-jacket
(Miss C. is not here to tell me the name of the garment); or else a