admitted when master was there, but came still in his absints)--
and she wore a hair of tryumph, as she entered. "Mary," says she,
"where is the money your husbind brought to you yesterday?" My
master used always to give it to missis when he returned.

"The money, ma!" says Mary. "Why here!" And pulling out her puss,
she showed a sovrin, a good heap of silver, and an odd-looking
little coin.

"THAT'S IT! that's it!" cried Mrs. S. "A Queene Anne's sixpence,
isn't it, dear--dated seventeen hundred and three?"

It was so sure enough: a Queen Ans sixpence of that very date.

"Now, my love," says she, "I have found him! Come with me to-
morrow, and you shall KNOW ALL!"

And now comes the end of my story.

. . . . . .

The ladies nex morning set out for the City, and I walked behind,
doing the genteel thing, with a nosegy and a goold stick. We
walked down the New Road--we walked down the City Road--we walked
to the Bank. We were crossing from that heddyfiz to the other side
of Cornhill, when all of a sudden missis shreeked, and fainted
spontaceously away.

I rushed forrard, and raised her to my arms: spiling thereby a new
weskit and a pair of crimson smalcloes. I rushed forrard. I say,