ll "forriners." It was
precisely the same sentiment, differently expressed, that actuated the
thoughts and opinions of both.

I must, however, do Mr. Timmis the justice to say, that he made ample
amends to Monsieur Dubois for the affront he had so thoughtlessly put
upon the worthy Frenchman; and did all in his power to obtain him pupils.

The consequent change in his dress and manner, his amiable conduct, and
gentlemanly deportment, at last completely won upon the esteem of the
boisterous broker, who swore, (for that was generally his elegant manner
of expressing his sincerity) that Dubois was a 'downright good'un;' and
were it not for his foreign accent, he should have taken him for an
Englishman born--really believing, that there was no virtue in the world
but of English growth.

I had now been above twelve-months in his office, and although I had
received but a moderate compensation for my services, yet the vast
improvement I had made (thanks to the instruction of Monsieur Dubois,)
was more valuable than gold. My father also, though but scantily
furnished with book-knowledge, had, nevertheless, the good sense to
appreciate and encourage my progress; he was well aware, from
observation, that 'knowledge is power,' and would frequently quote the
old saw,

"When house, and land, and money's spent;
Then larning is most excellent"--

and spared all the money he could scrape together to purchase books for
me.

One day Mr. Crobble came into the office with an open letter in his hand.
"Here,"--cried he, "I've received a remittance at last from that, German
fellow--two good bills on the first house in the city--but I can't make
top nor tail of his rigmarole. Do you know any chap among your
acquaintance who can read German?"

"Not I," replied Mr. Timmis.

"Will you allow me, Mr. Crobble?" said I, stepping forward. "This letter
is written in French, not German, Sir," I observed.

"What's the difference to me, Master Andrew; it might as well be in wild
Irish, for the matter o' that."

"Andrew can read the lingo," said my master.

"The devil he can!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I dare say I shall be able to
make it out," said I; "and if not, Monsieur Dubois will be here;
to-morrow morning, and you can have it by twelve o'clock, sir."

"Ain't that the ticket?" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, delighted at the surprise
of his friend; "you don't know how vastly clever we are, old fellow."

Mr. Crobble, much gratified at this in