102 CHRONICLES OF A CLAY FARM. 



near, and a drop of blood, along the edge, had left 

 mark of some awkwardness or haste and had smeared 

 the page below with an ugly red line under the word 

 ratttutic. Except a tolerably well filled book-case 

 too much stuffed with stitched reports and periodi- 

 cals, there was nothing else noticeable in the general 

 medley, excepting an ingenious atrocity in the shape 

 of an easy chair with a traversing desk, and a shaded 

 reading lamp, screwed into one of the arms. A wood 

 fire had burnt out in the hearth, leaving the ends of 

 the brands reclined despondingly against the c dogs,' 

 old-fashioned biped articles, which reared each a neck 

 and head of silver, by way of focal ornament and 

 finish, and which people who came on business always 

 fixed their eyes upon, and at some convenient pause 

 registered their approval of, in a tone that took some 

 credit for originality of taste. 



The windows looked east-ward, and the sun was 

 shining in : the weighty-looking pacquet had not been 

 long on the table before the door opened, and a 

 shooting-jacket, waistcoat, and trowsers, all of the 

 same pattern, entered the room : a cup of coffee was 

 hastily poured out, and the seal of the pacquet broken. 

 A quantity of letters fell out ; one of which ran as 

 follows. 



