THE BOARDING-HOUSE. 



181 



till Mrs. Bloss was in serious apprehension of her chuckling herself 

 into a fit. 



" Well, I never !" said Mrs. Bloss. 



" Yes, and please, ma'am, the servants give him gin-and- water 

 sometimes ; arid then he cries, and says he hates his wife and the 

 boarders, and wants to tickle them." 



" Tickle the boarders !" exclaimed Mrs. Bloss, seriously alarmed. 

 " No, ma'am, not the boarders, the servants." 

 " Oh, is that all !" said Mrs. Bloss, quite satisfied. 

 " He wanted to kiss me as I came up the kitchen stairs, just now," 

 said Agnes, indignantly ; t( but I gave it him a little wretch !" 



This intelligence was but too true. A long course of snubbing 

 and neglect; his days spent in the kitchen, and his nights in the 

 turn-up bedstead; had completely broken the little spirit that the 

 unfortunate volunteer had ever possessed. He had no one to whom 

 he could detail his injuries but the servants, and they were almost of 

 necessity his chosen confidants. It is no less strange than true, 

 however, that the little weaknesses which he had incurred, most 

 probably, during his military career, seemed to increase as his com- 

 forts diminished. He was actually a sort of journeyman Giovanni in 

 the basement story. 



The next morning, being Sunday, breakfast was laid in the front 

 parlour at ten o'clock. Nine was the usual time, but the family 

 always breakfasted an hour later on Sabbath. Tibbs enrobed him- 

 self in his Sunday costume a black coat, and exceedingly short 

 thin trowsers, with a very large white waistcoat, white stockings and 

 cravat, and Blucher boots and mounted to the parlour aforesaid. 

 Nobody had come down, and he amused himself by drinking the 

 contents of the milk-pot with a tea-spoon. 



A pair of slippers were heard descending the stairs ; Tibbs flew to 

 a chair, and a stern-looking man of about fifty, with very little hair 

 on his head, and " The Examiner" in his hand, entered the room. 



" Good morning, Mr. Evenson," said Tibbs, very humbly, with 

 something between a nod and a bow. 



" How do you, Mr. Tibbs ?" replied he of the slippers, as he sat 

 himself down, and began to read his paper without saying another 

 word. 



" Is Mr. Wisbottle in town to-day do you know, Sir ?" inquired 

 Tibbs, just for the sake of saying something. 



" I should think he was," replied the stern gentleman. " He was 

 whistling ' The Light Guitar/ in the next room to mine, at five o'clock 

 this morning." 



" He's very fond of whistling," said Tibbs, with a slight smirk. 

 Yes I an't," was the laconic reply. 



Mr. John Evenson was in the receipt of an independent income, 

 arising chiefly from various houses he owned in the different suburbs. 

 He was very morose and discontented. He was a thorough radical, 

 and used to attend a great variety of public meetings for the express 

 purpose of finding fault with everything that was proposed. Mr. 

 Wisbottle, on the other hand, was a high Tory. He was a clerk in 

 the Woods and Forests office, which he considered rather an aristo- 



