Cf)c Carter of a ^pur. 93 



daughter of Mr. Muttonfat himself become desperately 

 enamoured of me, aye, and literally run away with 

 me, too ? Thenceforth my career was indeed a 

 changed, and not even a horsey one, but I am very 

 happy nevertheless, although the sole companions of 

 my leisure hours are but an armless doll, a stuffed 

 and squeaking rabbit, two ninepins, and a rattle. 



My leisure hours, I may add, are such as do not 

 find me being jingled up and down by a string over 

 the uneven stones with which our court-yard is so 

 indifferently paved. One thing alone, indeed, now 

 disturbs the peace of my declining years, and that 

 is a nasty, rickety and almost broken down spring 

 cart, which, in charge of an unwashed and cross- 

 eyed Irishman, is not unfrequently driven past our 

 shop. The whole turn-out has a rusty, disreputable 

 appearance — from the ill-fed Russian pony in the 

 shafts, to the dirty driver and very miscellaneous 

 assortment of old metal on which he sits. I must 

 own that my blunt old rowels turn more freely when 

 that lot has passed, and the sound of those creaking, 

 greaseless wheels has become drowned in the noisy 

 humdrum of the surrounding traffic. But hark! I 

 hear little footsteps approaching, and feel a strain 

 upon my nearly plateless buckle. 



"x\ll right, Missey, I'm coming," and so I truly 

 enough am ; for the little lady will brook no delay. 



