Will it be believed that, though the house is only four miles distant from our city--though Don Pomposo's family have inhabited it these twelve years for four or five months every year--Mrs.M------ saw her cousin's house for the first time; has never set eyes upon those grandees, except in public places, since the day when they honoured the county by purchasing the estate which they own?
"'I have, as I repeat, no vote for the borough; but if I had, oh, wouldn't I show my respectful gratitude at the next election, and plump for Pomposo! I shall keep my eye upon him, and am, Mr.
Independent,--Your Constant Reader, Peeping Tom.'" "The spirit of radicalism abroad in this country," said Sir Brian Newcome, crushing his egg-shell desperately, "is dreadful, really dreadful.

We are on the edge of a positive volcano." Down went the egg-spoon into its crater.

"The worst sentiments are everywhere publicly advocated; the licentiousness of the press has reached a pinnacle which menaces us with ruin; there is no law which these shameless newspapers respect; no rank which is safe from their attacks; no ancient landmark which the lava-flood of democracy does not threaten to overwhelm and destroy." "When I was at Spielburg," Barnes Newcome remarked kindly, "I saw three long-bearded, putty-faced blaguards pacin up and down a little courtyard, and Count Keppenheimer told me they were three damned editors of Milanese newspapers, who had had seven years of imprisonment already; and last year when Keppenheimer came to shoot at Newcome, I showed him that old thief, old Batters, the proprietor of the Independent, and Potts, his infernal ally, driving in a dogcart; and I said to him, Keppenheimer, I wish we had a place where we could lock up some of our infernal radicals of the press, or that you could take off those two villains to Spielburg; and as we were passin, that infernal Potts burst out laughin in my face, and cut one of my pointers over the head with his whip.

We must do something with that Independent, sir." "We must," says the father, solemnly, "we must put it down, Barnes, we must put it down." "I think," says Barnes, "we had best give the railway advertisements to Batters." "But that makes the man of the Sentinel so angry," says the elder persecutor of the press.
"Then let us give Tom Potts some shootin at any rate; the ruffian is always poachin about our covers as it is.

Speers should be written to, sir, to keep a look-out upon Batters and that villain his accomplice, and to be civil to them, and that sort of thing; and, damn it, to be down upon them whenever he sees the opportunity." During the above conspiracy for bribing or crushing the independence of a great organ of British opinion, Miss Ethel Newcome held her tongue; but when her papa closed the conversation by announcing solemnly that he would communicate with Speers, Ethel turning to her mother said, "Mamma, is it true that grandpapa has a relation living at Newcome who is old and poor ?" "My darling child, how on earth should I know ?" says Lady Anne.