The letter positively seemed heavier in Toby's hand, than anotherletter. Not because the Alderman had sealed it with a very large coatof arms and no end of wax, but because of the weighty name on thesuperscription, and the ponderous amount of gold and silver with whichit was associated.

``How different from us!'' thought Toby, in all simplicity and earnestness, as he looked at the direction. ``Divide the livelyturtles in the bills of mortality, by the number of gentlefolks ableto buy 'em; and whose share does he take but his own! As to snatching tripe from anybody's mouth -- he'd scorn it!''

With the involuntary homage due to such an exalted character, Tobyinterposed a corner of his apron between the letter and his fingers.

``His children,'' said Trotty, and a mist rose before hiseyes; ``his daughters -- Gentlemen may win their hearts andmarry them; they may be happy wives and mothers; they may behandsome like my darling M--e--''

He couldn't finish the name. The final letter swelled in histhroat, to the size of the whole alphabet.

``Never mind,'' thought Trotty. ``I know what I mean.That's more than enough for me.'' And with this consolatoryrumination, trotted on.

It was a hard frost, that day. The air was bracing, crisp, andclear. The wintry sun, though powerless for warmth, looked brightlydown upon the ice it was too weak to melt, and set a radiant glorythere. At other times, Trotty might have learned a poor man's lessonfrom the wintry sun; but he was past that, now.

The Year was Old, that day. The patient Year had lived through thereproaches and misuses of its slanderers, and faithfully performed itswork. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. It had laboured through thedestined round, and now laid down its weary head to die. Shut out fromhope, high impulse, active happiness, itself, but active messenger ofmany joys to others, it made appeal in its decline to have its toiling days and patient hours remembered, and to die inpeace. Trotty might have read a poor man's allegory in the fadingyear; but he was past that, now.

And only he? Or has the like appeal been ever made, by seventyyears at once upon an English labourer's head, and made in vain!

The streets were full of motion, and the shops were decked outgaily. The New Year, like an Infant Heir to the whole world, waswaited for, with welcomes, presents, and rejoicings. There were books and toys for the New Year, glittering trinkets for the New Year,dresses for the New Year, schemes of fortune for the New Year; newinventions to beguile it. Its life was parcelled out in almanacks andpocket-books; the coming of its moons, and stars, and tides, wasknown beforehand to the moment; all the workings of its seasons intheir days and nights, were calculated with as much precision as Mr.Filer could work sums in men and women.

The New Year, the New Year. Everywhere the New Year! The Old Yearwas already looked upon as dead; and its effects were selling cheap,like some drowned mariner's aboard ship. Its patterns were Last Year's, and going at a sacrifice, before its breath was gone. Itstreasures were mere dirt, beside the riches of its unborn successor!

Trotty had no portion, to his thinking, in the New Year or the Old.

``Put 'em down, Put 'em down! Facts and Figures, facts andfigures! Good old Times, good old Times! Put 'em down, Put 'emdown!'' -- his trot went to that measure, and would fit itselfto nothing else.

But, even that one, melancholy as it was, brought him, in due time,to the end of his journey. To the mansion of Sir Joseph Bowley, Memberof Parliament.

The door was opened by a Porter. Such a Porter! Not of Toby'sorder. Quite another thing. His place was the ticket though; notToby's.

This Porter underwent some hard panting before he could speak;having breathed himself by coming incautiously out of his chair,without first taking time to think about it and compose his mind. Whenhe had found his voice -- which it took him a long time to do,for it was a long way off, and hidden under a load of meat-- he said in a fat whisper,

``Who's it from?''

Toby told him.

``You're to take it in, yourself,'' said the Porter pointingto a room at the end of a long passage opening from the hall.``Everything goes straight in, on this day of the year. You're nota bit too soon: for, the carriage is at the door now, and they haveonly come to town for a couple of hours, a' purpose.''

Toby wiped his feet (which were quite dry already) with great care,and took the way pointed out to him; observing as he went that it wasan awfully grand house, but hushed and covered up, as if the familywere in the country. Knocking at the room-door, he was told to enterfrom within; and doing so found himself in a spacious library, where,at a table strewn with files and papers, were a stately lady in abonnet; and a not very stately gentleman in black who wrote from herdictation; while another, and an older, and a much stateliergentleman, whose hat and cane were on the table, walked up and down, with one

``What is this?'' said the last-named gentleman. ``Mr.Fish, will you have the goodness to attend?''

Mr. Fish begged pardon, and taking the letter from Toby, handed it,with great respect.

``From Alderman Cute, Sir Joseph.''

``Is this all? Have you nothing else, Porter?'' inquired SirJoseph.

Toby replied in the negative.

``You have no bill or demand upon me; my name is Bowley, SirJoseph Bowley ; of any kind from anybody, have you?'' said SirJoseph. ``If you have, present it. There is a cheque-book by theside of Mr. Fish. I allow nothing to be carried into the New Year.Every description of account is settled in this house at the close ofthe old one. So that if death was to -- to --''

``To cut,'' suggested Mr. Fish.

``To sever, Sir,'' returned Sir Joseph, with great asperity, ``the cord of existence -- my affairs would be found, I hope,in a state of preparation.''

``My dear SirJoseph!'' said the lady, who was greatly younger than thegentleman. ``How shocking!''

``My lady Bowley,'' returned Sir Joseph, floundering now andthen, as in the great depth of his observations, ``at this seasonof the year we should think of -- of -- ourselves. We shouldlook into our -- our accounts. We should feel that every returnof so eventful a period in human transactions, involves a matter ofdeep moment between a man and his -- and his banker.''

Sir Joseph delivered these words as if he felt the full morality ofwhat he was saying; and desired that even Trotty should have anopportunity of being improved by such discourse. Possibly he had this end before him in still forbearing to break the seal of the letter,and in telling Trotty to wait where he was, a minute.

``You were desiring Mr. Fish to say, my lady --'' observed Sir Joseph.

``Mr. Fish has said that, I believe,'' returned his lady,glancing at the letter. ``But, upon my word, Sir Joseph,I don't think I can let it go after all. It is so very dear.''

``What is dear?'' inquired Sir Joseph.

``That Charity, my love. They only allow two votes for asubscription of five pounds. Really monstrous!''

``My lady Bowley,'' returned Sir Joseph, ``you surprise me. Is the luxury of feeling in proportion to the number of votes; oris it, to a rightly constituted mind, in proportion to the number ofapplicants, and the wholesome state of mind to which their canvassing reduces them? Is there no excitement of the purest kind in having twovotes to dispose of among fifty people?''

``Not to me, I acknowledge,'' replied the lady. ``It boresone. Besides, one can't oblige one's acquaintance. But you are thePoor Man's Friend, you know, Sir Joseph. You think otherwise.''

``I

``Bless him for a noble gentleman!'' thought Trotty.

``I don't agree with Cute here, for instance,'' said SirJoseph, holding out the letter. ``I don't agree with the Filerparty. I don't agree with any party. My friend the Poor Man, has nobusiness with anything of that sort, and nothing of that sort has any business with him. My friend the Poor Man, in my district, is mybusiness. No man or body of men has any right to interfere between myfriend and me. That is the ground I take. I assume a -- a paternal character towards my friend. I say, &onq;My good fellow, Iwill treat you paternally.&cnq;''

Toby listened with great gravity, and began to feel morecomfortable.

``Your only business, my good fellow,'' pursued Sir Joseph,looking abstractedly at Toby; ``your only business in life is withme. You needn't trouble yourself to think about anything. I will thinkfor you; I know what is good for you; I am your perpetual parent.Such is the dispensation of an all-wise Providence! Now, the design ofyour creation is : not that you should swill, and guzzle, andassociate your enjoyments, brutally, with food'' -- Tobythought remorsefully of the tripe -- ``but that you shouldfeel the Dignity of Labour; go forth erect into the cheerful morningair, and -- stop there. Live hard and temperately, be respectful,exercise your self-denial, bring up your family on next to nothing,pay your rent as regularly as the clock strikes, be punctual in your dealings (I set you a good example; you will find Mr. Fish, myconfidential secretary, with a cash-box before him at all times); andyou may trust me to be your Friend and Father.''

``Nice children, indeed, Sir Joseph!'' said the lady, with ashudder. ``Rheumatisms, and fevers, and crooked legs, and asthmas,and all kinds of horrors!''

``My lady,'' returned Sir Joseph, with solemnity, ``notthe less am I the Poor Man's Friend and Father. Not the less shall hereceive encouragement at my hands. Every quarter-day he will be put incommunication with Mr. Fish. Every New Year's Day, myself and friendswill drink his health. Once every year, myself and friends willaddress him with the deepest feeling. Once in his life, hemay even perhaps receive; in public, in the presence of the gentry; aTrifle from a Friend. And when, upheld no more by these stimulants,and the Dignity of Labour, he sinks into his comfortable grave, thenmy lady'' -- here Sir Joseph blew his nose -- ``I willbe a Friend and a Father -- on the same terms -- to hischildren.''

Toby was greatly moved.

``Oh! You have a thankful family, Sir Joseph!'' cried hiswife.

``My lady,'' said Sir Joseph, quite majestically,``Ingratitude is known to be the sin of that class. I expect noother return.''

``Ah! Born bad!'' thought Toby. ``Nothing melts us!''

``What man can do,

With that great sentiment, he opened the Alderman's letter; andread it.

``Very polite and attentive, I am sure!'' exclaimed SirJoseph. ``My lady, the Alderman is so obliging as to remind me thathe has had &onq;the distinguished honour&cnq; -- he is very good-- of meeting me at the house of our mutual friend Deedles, thebanker; and he does me the favor to inquire whether it will be agreeable to me to have Will Fern put down.''

``

``Why no,'' said Sir Joseph, referring to the letter. ``Not quite. Very near. Not quite. He came up to London, it seems,to look for employment (trying to better himself -- that's hisstory), and being found at night asleep in a shed, was takeninto custody, and carried next morning before the Alderman. TheAlderman observes (very properly) that he is determined to put thissort of thing down; and that if it will be agreeable to me to haveWill Fern put down, he will be happy to begin with him.''

``Let him be made an example of, by all means, returned thelady. ``Last winter, when I introduced pinking and eyelet-holingamong the men and boys in the village, as a nice evening employment,and had the lines,

``Hem!'' coughed Sir Joseph. ``Mr. Fish, if you'll have the goodness to attend --''

Mr. Fish immediately seized his pen, and wrote from Sir Joseph'sdictation.

``Private. My dear Sir. I am very much indebted to you for yourcourtesy in the matter of the man William Fern, of whom, I regret toadd, I can say nothing favourable. I have uniformly considered myselfin the light of his Friend and Father, but have been repaid (a commoncase I grieve to say) with ingratitude, and constant opposition to myplans. He is a turbulent and rebellious spirit. His character willnot bear investigation. Nothing will persuade him to be happy when hemight. Under these circumstances, it appears to me, I own, that whenhe comes before you again (as you informed me he promised to doto-morrow, pending your inquiries, and I think he may be so far reliedupon), his commital for some short term as a Vagabond, would be a service to society, and would be a salutary example in a country where-- for the sake of those who are, through good and evil report,the Friends and Fathers of the Poor, as well as with a viewto that, generally speaking misguided class themselves --examples are greatly needed. And I am,'' and so forth.

``It appears,'' remarked Sir Joseph when he had signed thisletter, and Mr. Fish was sealing it, ``as if this were Ordained:really. At the close of the year, I wind up my account and strike mybalance, even with William Fern!''

Trotty, who had long ago relapsed, and was very low-spirited,stepped forward with a rueful face to take the letter.

``With my compliments and thanks,'' said Sir Joseph.``Stop!''

``Stop!'' echoed Mr. Fish

``You have heard, perhaps,'' said Sir Joseph, oracularly, ``certain remarks into which I have been led respecting the solemnperiod of time at which we have arrived, and the duty imposed upon usof settling our affairs, and being prepared. You have observed that Idon't shelter myself behind my superior standing in society, but thatMr. Fishi -- that gentleman-- has a cheque-book at hiselbow, and is in fact here, to enable me to turn over aperfectly new leaf. and enter on the epoch before us with a cleanaccount. Now, my friend, can you lay your hand upon your heart, andsay, that you also have made praparations for a New Year?''

``I am afraid, Sir,'' stammered Trotty, looking meekly athim, ``that I am a -- a -- little behind-hand with theworld.''

``Behind-hand with the world!'' repeated Sir Joseph Bowley,in a tone of terrible distinctness.

``I am afraid, Sir,'' faltered Trotty, ``that there's amatter of ten or twelve shillings owing to Mrs. Chickenstalker.''

``To Mrs. Chickenstalker!'' repeated Sir Joseph, in the sametone as before.

``A shop, Sir,'' exclaimed Toby, ``in the general line. Also a -- a little money on account of rent. A very little, Sir.It oughtn't to be owing, I know, but we have been hard put to it,indeed!''

Sir Joseph looked at his lady, and at Mr. Fish, and at Trotty, oneafter another, twice all round. He then made a despondent gesture withboth hands at once, as if he gave the thing up altogether.

``How a man, even among this improvident and impracticable race;an old man; a man grown grey; can look a New Year in the face, withhis affairs in this condition; how he can lie down on his bed at night, and get up again in the morning, and -- There!'' hesaid, turning his back on Trotty. ``Take the letter. Take theletter!''

``I heartily wish it was otherwise, sir,'' said Trotty, anxious to excuse himself. ``We have been tried very hard.''

Sir Joseph still repeating ``Take the letter, take theletter!'' and Mr. Fish not only saying the same thing, but givingadditional force to the request by motioning the bearer to the door,he had nothing for it but to make his bow and leave the house. And inthe street, poor Trotty pulled his worn old hat down on his head, tohide the grief he felt at getting no hold on the New Year, anywhere.

He didn't even lift his hat to look up at the Bell tower when hecame to the old church on his return. He halted there a moment, fromhabit: and knew that it was growing dark, and that the steeple rose above him, indistinct and faint, in the murky air. He knew,too, that the Chimes would ring immediately; and that they sounded tohis fancy, at such a time, like voices in the clouds. But he only madethe more haste to deliver the Alderman's letter, and get out of theway before they began; for he dreaded to hear them tagging``Friends and Fathers, Friends and Fathers,'' to the burden theyhad rung out last.

Toby discharged himself of his commission, therefore, with allpossible speed, and set off trotting homeward. But what with his pace,which was at best an awkward one, in the street; and what with hishat, which didn't improve it; he trotted against somebody in lessthan no time, and was sent staggering out into the road.

``I beg your pardon, I'm sure!'' said Trotty, pulling up hishat in great confusion, and between the hat and the torn lining,fixing his head into a kind of bee-hive. ``I hope I haven't hurtyou.''

As to hurting anybody, Toby was not such an absolute Samson, butthat he was much more likely to be hurt himself: and indeed, he hadflown out into the road, like a shuttlecock. He had such an opinion of his own strength, however, that he was in real concern forthe other party: and said again,

``I hope I haven't hurt you?''

The man against whom he had run; a sun-browned, sinewy,country-looking man, with grizzled hair, and a rough chin; stared athim for a moment, as if he suspected him to be in jest. But, satisfiedof his good faith, he answered:

``No friend. You have not hurt me.''

``Nor the child, I hope?'' said Trotty.

``Nor the child,'' returned the man. ``I thank you kindly.''

As he said so, he glanced at a little girl he carried in his arms,asleep: and shading her face with the long end of the poorhandkerchief he wore about his throat, went slowly on.

The tone in which he said ``I thank you kindly,'' penetratedTrotty's heart. He was so jaded and foot-sore, and so soiled withtravel, and looked about him so forlorn and strange, that it was acomfort to him to be able to thank any one: no matter for how little.Toby stood gazing after him as he plodded wearily away, withthe child's arm clinging round his neck.

At the figure in the worn shoes -- now the very shade andghost of shoes -- rough leather leggings, common frock, and broadslouched hat, Trotty stood gazing: blind to the whole street. And atthe child's arm, clinging round its neck.

Before he merged into the darkness the traveller stopped; andlooking round, and seeing Trotty standing there yet, seemed undecidedwhether to return or go on. After doing first the one and then theother, he came back, and Trotty went half way to meet him.

``You can tell me, perhaps,'' said the man with a faintsmile, ``and if you can I am sure you will, and I'd rather ask youthan another -- where Alderman Cute lives.''

``Close at hand,'' replied Toby. ``I'll show you his housewith pleasure.''

``I was to have gone to him elsewhere to-morrow,'' said theman, accompanying Toby, ``but I'm uneasy under suspicion, and wantto clear myself, and to be free to go and seek my bread-- I don't know where. So, maybe he'll forgive my going to hishouse tonight.''

``It's impossible,'' cried Toby with a start, ``that your name's Fern!''

``Eh!'' cried the other, turning on him in astonishment.

``Fern! Will Fern!'' said Trotty.

``Why then,'' cried Trotty, seizing him by the arm, andlooking cautiously round, ``for Heaven's sake don't go to him!Don't go to him! He'll put you down as sure as ever you were born.Here! come up this alley, and I'll tell you what I mean. Don't go to

His new acquaintance looked as if he thought him mad; but he borehim company nevertheless. When they were shrouded from observation,Trotty told him what he knew, and what character he had received, andall about it.

The subject of his history listened to it with a calmness thatsurprised him. He did not contradict or interrupt it, once.He nodded his head now and then -- more in corroboration of anold and worn-out story, it appeared, than in refutation of it; andonce or twice threw back his hat, and passed his freckled hand over abrow, where every furrow he had ploughed seemed to have set its imagein little. But he did no more.

``It's true enough in the main,'' he said, ``master, I could sift grain from husk here and there, but let it be as 'tis. Whatodds? I have gone against his plans; to my misfortun'. I can't helpit; I should do the like to-morrow. As to character, them gentlefolks will search and search, and pry and pry, and have it as free from spotor speck in us, afore they'll help us to a dry good word! --Well! I hope they don't lose good opinion as easy as we do, or theirlives is strict indeed, and hardly worth the keeping. For myself, master, I never took with that hand'' -- holding it before him-- ``what wasn't my own; and never held it back from work,however hard, or poorly paid. Whoever can deny it, let him chop itoff! But when work won't maintain me like a human creetur; when

Seeing that the child in his arms had opened her eyes, and waslooking about her in wonder, he checked himself to say a word or twoof foolish prattle in her ear, and stand her on the ground beside him.Then slowly winding one of her long tresses round and round his roughforefinger like a ring, while she hung about his dusty leg, he said toTrotty:

``I'm not a cross-grained man by natur', I believe; and easysatisfied, I'm sure. I bear no ill-will against none of 'em. I onlywant to live like one of the Almighty's creeturs. I can't -- Idon't -- and so there's a pit dug between me, and themthat can and do. There's others like me. You might tell 'em off by hundreds and by thousands, sooner than by ones.''

Trotty knew he spoke the Truth in this, and shook his head tosignify as much.

``I've got a bad name this way,'' said Fern; ``and I'm notlikely, I'm afeared, to get a better. ``Tan't lawful to be out ofsorts, and I

``She has a beautiful face,'' said Trotty.

``Why yes!'' replied the other in a low voice, as he gentlyturned it up with both his hands towards his own, and looked upon itsteadfastly. ``I've thought so, many times. I've thought so, whenmy hearth was very cold, and cupboard very bare. I thought so t'othernight, when we were taken like two thieves. But they -- theyshouldn't try the little face too often, should they,Lilian? That's hardly fair upon a man!''

He sunk his voice so low, and gazed upon her with an air so sternand strange, that Toby, to divert the current of his thoughts,inquired if his wife were living.

``I never had one,'' he returned, shaking his head. ``She's my brother's child: an orphan. Nine year old, though you'dhardly think it; but she's tired and worn out now. They'd have takencare on her, the Union -- eight-and-twenty mile away from wherewe live -- between four walls (as they took care of my old father when he couldn't work no more, though he didn't trouble 'emlong); but I took her instead, and she's lived with me ever since. Hermother had a friend once, in London here. We are trying to find her,and to find work too; but it's a large place. Never mind. More roomfor us to walk about in Lilly!''

Meeting the child's eyes with a smile which melted Toby more thantears, he shook him by the hand.

``I don't so much as know your name,'' he said, ``

``Justice,'' suggested Toby.

``Ah!'' he said. ``If that's the name they give him. ThisJustice. And to-morrow will try whether there's better fortun' to bemet with, somewheres near London. Good-night. A Happy New Year!''

``Stay!'' cried Trotty, catching at his hand, as he relaxedhis grip. ``Stay! The New Year never can be happy to me, if we partlike this. The New Year never can be happy to me, if I see the childand you, go wandering away, you don't know where, without a shelterfor your heads. Come home with me! I'm a poor man, living in a poorplace; but I can give you lodging for one night and never miss it.Come home with me! Here! I'll take her!'' cried Trotty, lifting upthe child. ``A pretty one! I'd carry twenty times her weight, andnever know I'd got it. Tell me if I go too quick for you. I'm veryfast. I always was!'' Trotty said this, taking about six of his trotting paces to one stride of his fatigued companion, andwith his thin legs quivering again, beneath the load he bore.

``Why, she's as light,'' said Trotty, trotting in his speechas well as in his gait; for he couldn't bear to be thanked. anddreaded a moment's pause; ``as light as a feather. Lighter than aPeacock's feather -- a great. deal lighter. Here we are, and herewe go! Round this first turning to the right, Uncle Will, and past the pump, and sharp off up the passage to the left, right opposite thepublic-house. Here we are and here we go! Cross over, Uncle Will, andmind the kidney pieman at the corner! Here we are and here we go!Down the Mews here, Uncle Will, and stop at the black door, with&onq;T. Veck, Ticket Porter&cnq; wrote upon a board; and here we areand here we go, and here we are indeed, my precious Meg, surprising you!''

With which words Trotty, in a breathless state, set the child downbefore his daughter in the middle of the floor. The little visitorlooked once at Meg; and doubting nothing in that face, but trustingeverything she saw there; ran into her arms.

``Herewe are and here we go!'' cried Trotty, running round the room, andchoking audibly. ``Here, Uncle Will, here's a fire you know! Whydon't you come to the fire? Oh here we are and here we go! Meg, myprecious darling, where's the kettle? Here it is and here it goes, andit'll bile in no time! ``

Trotty really had picked up the kettle somewhere or other in thecourse of his wild career, and now put it on the fire; while Meg,seating the child in a warm corner, knelt down on the ground beforeher, and pulled off her shoes, and dried her wet feet on a cloth. Aye, and she laughed at Trotty too -- so pleasantly, so cheerfully, that Trotty could have blessed her where she kneeled; forhe had seen that, when they entered, she was sitting by the fire intears.

``Why, father!'' said Meg. ``You're crazy to-night, Ithink. I don't know what the Bells would say to that. Poor littlefeet. How cold they are!''

``Oh, they're warmer now!'' exclaimed the child. ``They'requite warm now!''

``No, no, no,'' said Meg.``We haven't rubbed 'em half enough. We're so busy. So busy! Andwhen they're done, we'll brush out the damp hair; and when that'sdone, we'll bring some colour to the poor pale face with fresh water;and when that's done, we'll be so gay, and brisk, andhappy--!''

The child, in a burst of sobbing, clasped her round the neck;caressed her fair cheek with its hand; and said, ``Oh Meg! oh dearMeg!''

Toby's blessing could have done no more. Who could do more!

``Why, father!'' cried Meg, after a pause.

``Here I am and here I go, my dear!'' said Trotty.

``Good Gracious me!'' cried Meg. ``He's crazy! He's putthe dear child's bonnet on the kettle, and hung the lid behind thedoor!''

``I didn't go for to do it, my love,'' said Trotty, hastilyrepairing this mistake. ``Meg, my dear?''

Meg looked towards him and saw that he had elaborately stationedhimself behind the chair of their male visitor, where with manymysterious gestures he was holding up the sixpence he had earned.

``I see, my dear,'' said Trotty, ``as I was comingin, half an ounce of tea lying somewhere on the stairs; and I'mpretty sure there was a bit of bacon too. As I don't remember where itwas exactly, I'll go myself and try to find 'em.''

With this inscrutable artifice, Toby withdrew to purchase theviands he had spoken of, for ready money, at Mrs. Chickenstalker's;and presently came back, pretending he had not been able to find them,at first, in the dark.

``But here they are at last,'' said Trotty, setting out thetea things, ``all correct! I was pretty sure it was tea, and arasher. So it is, Meg, my Pet, if you'll just make the tea, while yourunworthy father toasts the bacon, we shall be ready, immediate. It's acurious circumstance,'' said Trotty, proceeding in his cookery,with the assistance of the toasting-fork, ``curious, but well knownto my friends, that I never care, myself, for rashers, nor for tea. Ilike to see other people enjoy 'em,'' said Trotty, speaking very loud, to impress the fact upon his guest, ``but to me, as food,they're disagreeable.''

Yet Trotty sniffed the savourof the hissing bacon -- ah! -- as if he liked it; and whenhe poured the boiling water in the tea-pot, looked lovingly down into the depths of that snug cauldron, and suffered the fragrant steam tocurl about his nose, and wreathe his head and face in a thick cloud.However, for all this, he neither ate nor drank, except at the verybeginning, a mere morsel for form's sake, which he appeared to eatwith infinite relish, but declared was perfectly uninteresting to him.

No. Trotty's occupation was, to see Will Fern and Lilian eat anddrink; and so was Meg's. And never did spectators at a city dinner orcourt banquet find such high delight in seeing others feast: although it were a monarch or a pope: as those two did, in looking on thatnight. Meg smiled at Trotty, Trotty laughed at Meg. Meg shook herhead, and made believe to clap her hands, applauding Trotty; Trotty conveyed, in dumb-show, unintelligible narratives of how and when andwhere he had found their visitors, to Meg; and they were happy. Veryhappy.

``Although,'' thought Trotty, sorrowfully, as he watched Meg's face; ``that match is broken off, I see!''

``Now, I'll tell you what,'' said Trotty after tea. ``Thelittle one, she sleeps with Meg, I know.''

``With good Meg!'' cried the child, caressing her. ``WithMeg.''

``That's right,'' said Trotty. ``And I shouldn't wonder ifshe kiss Meg's father, won't she?

Mightily delighted Troty was, when the child went timidly towardshim and having kissed him, fell back upon Meg again.

``She's as sensible as Solomon,'' said Trotty. ``Here wecome and here we -- no, we don't -- I don't mean that-- I -- what was I saying, Meg, my precious?''

Meg looked towards their guest, who leaned upon her chair, and withhis face turned from her, fondled the child's head, half hidden in herlap.

``To be sure,'' said Toby. ``To be sure! I don't know whatI'm rambling on about, to-night. My wits are wool-gathering, I think.Will Fern, you come along with me. You're tired to death,and broken down for want of rest. You come along with me.''

The man still played with the child's curls, still leaned uponMeg's chair, still turned away his face. He didn't speak, but in hisrough coarse fingers, clenching and expanding in the fair hair of thechild, there was an eloquence that said enough.

``Yes, yes,'' said Trotty, answering unconsciously what hesaw expressed in his daughter's face. ``Take her with you, Meg. Gether to bed. There! Now, Will. I'll show you where you lie. It's notmuch of a place: only a loft; but, having a loft, I always say, isone of the great conveniences of living in a mews; and till thiscoach-house and stable gets a better let, we live here cheap. There'splenty of sweet hay up there, belonging to a neighbour; and it's asclean as hands, and Meg, can make it. Cheer up! Don't give way. A newheart for a New Year, always!''

The hand released from the child's hair, had fallen, trembling,into Trotty's hand. So Trotty, talking without intermission, led himout as tenderly and easily as if he had been a child himself.

Returning before Meg, he listened for an instant at the doorof her little chamber; an adjoining room. The child was murmuring asimple Prayer before lying down to sleep; and when she had remembered Meg's name, ``Dearly, Dearly'' -- so her words ran -- Trotty heard her stop and ask for his.

It was some short time before the foolish little old fellow couldcompose himself to mend the fire, and draw his chair to the warmhearth. But, when he had done so, and had trimmed the light, he tookhis newspaper from his pocket, and began to read. Carelessly atfirst, and skimming up and down the columns; but with an earnest and asad attention, very soon.

For this same dreaded paper re-directed Trotty's thoughts into thechannel they had taken all that day, and which the days' events had somarked out and shaped. His interest in the two wanderers had set himon another course of thinking, and a happier one, for the time; butbeing alone again, and reading of the crimes and violences of thepeople, he relapsed into his former train.

In this mood, he came to an account (and it was not thefirst he had ever read) of a woman who had laid her desperate handsnot only on her own life but on that of her young child. A crime soterrible, and so revolting to his soul, dilated with the love of Meg, that he let the journal drop, and fell back in his chair, appalled!

``Unnatural and cruel!'' Toby cried. ``Unnatural and cruel! None but people who were bad at heart: born bad: who had nobusiness on the earth, could do such deeds. It's too true, all I'veheard to-day; too just, too full of proof. We're Bad!''

The Chimes took up the words so suddenly -- burst out so loud,and clear, and sonorous -- that the Bells seemed to strike him inhis chair.

And what was that they said?

``Toby Veck, Toby Veck, waiting for you Toby! Toby Veck, TobyVeck, waiting for you Toby! Come and see us, come and see us, Drag himto us, drag him to us, Haunt and hunt him, haunt and hunt him, Breakhis slumbers, break his slumbers! Toby Veck Toby Veck, door open wideToby, Toby Veck Toby Veck, door open wide Toby --'' thenfiercely back to their impetuous strain again, and ringing in the verybricks and plaster on the walls.

Toby listened. Fancy,fancy! His remorse for having run away from them that afternoon! No,no. Nothing of the kind. Again, again, and yet a dozen times again.``Haunt and hunt him, haunt and hunt him, Drag him to us, drag himto us!'' Deafening the whole town!

``Meg,'' said Trotty softly: tapping at her door. ``Do youhear anything?''

``I hear the Bells, father. Surely they're very loud to-night.''

``Is she asleep,'' said Toby, making an excuse for peepingin.

``So peacefully and happily! I can't leave her yet though,father. Look how she holds my hand!''

``Meg!'' whispered Trotty. ``Listen to the Bells!''

She listened, with her face towards him all the time. But itunderwent no change. She didn't understand them.

Trotty withdrew, resumed his seat by the fire, and once morelistened by himself. He remained here a little time.

It was impossible to bear it; their energy was dreadful.

``If the tower-door is really open,'' said Toby, hastily laying aside his apron, but never thinking of his hat, ``what's tohinder me from going up into the steeple and satisfying myself? Ifit's shut, I don't want any other satisfaction. That's enough.''

He was pretty certain as he slipped out quietly into the streetthat he should find it shut and locked, for he knew the door well, andhad so rarely seen it open, that he couldn't reckon above three timesin all. It was a low arched portaI, outside the church, in a dark nook behind a column; and had such great iron hinges, and such amonstrous lock, that there was much more hinge and lock than door.

But what was his astonishment when, coming bare headed to thechurch; and putting his hand into this dark nook, with a certainmisgiving that it might be unexpectedly seized, and a shiveringpropensity to draw it back again; he found that the door, which opened outwards, actually stood ajar!

He thought, on the first surprise, of going back; or of getting alight, or a companion; but his courage aided him immediately, and hedetermined to ascend alone.

``What have I tofear?'' said Trotty. ``It's a church! Besides, the ringers maybe there, and have forgotten to shut the door.''

So he went in, feeling his way as he went, like a blind man; for it was very dark. And very quiet, for the Chimes were silent.

The dust from the street had blown into the recess; and lyingthere, heaped up, made it so soft and velvet-like to the foot, thatthere was sometifing startling, even in that. The narrow stair was soclose to the door, too, that he stumbled at the very first; and shutting the door upon himself, by striking it with his foot, andcausing it to rebound back heavily, he couldn't open it again.

This was another reason, however, for going on. Trotty groped hisway, and went on. Up, up, up, and round, and round; and up, up, up;higher, higher, higher up!

It was a disagreeable staircase for that groping work; so low andnarrow, that his groping hand was always touching something; and itoften felt so like a man or ghostly figure standing up erect andmaking room for him to pass without discovery, that he would rub thesmooth wall upward searching for its face, and downward searching forits feet, while a chill tingling crept all over him. Twice or thrice,a door or niche broke the monotonous surface; and then it seemed a gap as wide as the whole church; and he felt on the brink ofan abyss, and going to tumble headlong down, until he found the wallagain.

Still up, up, up; and round and round, and up, up, up; higher,higher, higher up!

At length, the dull and stifling atmosphere began to freshen:presently to feel quite windy; presently it blew so strong, that hecould hardly keep his legs. But, he got to an arched window in thetower, breast high, and holding tight, looked down upon thehouse-tops, on the smoking chimneys, on the blurr and blotch oflights (towards the place where Meg was wondering where he was andcalling to him perhaps), all kneaded up, together in a leaven of mistand darkness.

This was the belfry, where the ringers came. He had caught hold ofone of the frayed ropes which hung down through apertures in the oakenroof. At first he started, thinking it was hair; then trembled at thevery thought of waking the deep Bell. The Bells themselves werehigher. Higher, Trotty, in his fascination or in working outthe spell upon him, groped his way. By ladders now, and toilsomely, for it was steep, and not too certain holding for the feet.

Up, up, up; and climb and clamber; up, up, up; higher, higher,higher up!

Until, ascending through the floor, and pausing with his head justraised above its beams, he came among the Bells. It was barelypossible to make out their great shapes in the gloom; but there theywere. Shadowy, and dark, and dumb.

A heavy sense of dread and loneliness fell instantly upon him, ashe climbed into this airy nest of stone and metal. His head went roundand round. He listened, and then raised a wild ``Holloa!''

Holloa! was mournfully protracted by the echoes. Giddy, confused,and out of breath, and frightened, Toby looked about him vacantly, andsunk down in a swoon.