so soft. Nothing puts her out of the way. And then, if you only
knew how she takes your part, Caudle! I'm sure, if you had been her
own son ten times over, she couldn't be fonder of you. Don't you
think so, Caudle? Eh, love? Now, do answer.

"HOW CAN YOU TELL?

"Nonsense, Caudle; you must have seen it. I'm sure nothing delights
the dear soul so much as when she's thinking how to please you.

"Don't you remember Thursday night, the stewed oysters when you came
home? That was all dear mother's doings! 'Margaret,' says she to
me, 'it's a cold night; and don't you think dear Mr. Caudle would
like something nice before he goes to bed?' And that, Caudle, is how
the oysters came about. Now, don't sleep, Caudle: do listen to me
for five minutes; 'tisn't often I speak, goodness knows.

"And then, what a fuss she makes when you are out, if your slippers
aren't put to the fire for you.

"SHE'S VERY GOOD?

"Yes,--I know she is, Caudle. And hasn't she been six months--though
I promised her not to tell you--six months working a watch-pocket for
you! And with HER eyes, dear soul--and at HER time of life!

"And then what a cook she is! I'm sure the dishes she'll make out of
next to nothing! I try hard enough to follow her: but, I'm not
ashamed to own it, Caudle, she quite beats me. Ha! the many nice
little things she'd simmer up for you--and I can't do it; the