A cart used to drive hup to the prizn gates of Saturdays; a washywoman's cart, with a fat old lady in it, and a young one.

Who was that young one?
Every one who has an art can gess, it was my blue-eyed blushing hangel of a Mary Hann! 'Shall we take him out in the linnen-basket, grandmamma ?' Mary Hann said.

Bless her, she'd already learned to say grandmamma quite natral: but I didn't go out that way; I went out by the door a whitewashed man.
Ho, what a feast there was at Healing the day I came out! I'd thirteen shillings left when I'd bought the gold ring.

I wasn't prowd.

I turned the mangle for three weeks; and then Uncle Bill said, 'Well, there IS some good in the feller;' and it was agreed that we should marry." The Plush manuscript finishes here: it is many weeks since we saw the accomplished writer, and we have only just learned his fate.