great fancy to it; indeed, she told
me it had annoyed her for some months, because it stood so provokingly
tempting in the shop-window just over the way; and besides, "She should
be so--so happy to write me such pretty letters from it." The last
argument was convincing, and the desk was bought; in return for which
she presented me with a very old silver pencil-case--its age, indeed,
she gave me to understand, ought to be its greatest value in my eyes--
she had had it so long: it was given to her by her defunct mother. So I
promised to keep it as long as I lived. Really, there was no chance of
my ever wearing it out by use, for it was certainly quite useless; but
love dignifies things so much! After having split it up by shoving a
piece of black-lead pencil into it, I put it into my waistcoat pocket,
saying to the heiress of the Chatham tailor--

"_Rich_ gifts prove poor when givers prove unkind."

"Ah, Ralph!" said the giver of rich gifts, "I shall never prove unkind."
So we parted; and as I walked down the street, she waved her hand,
which would have been really white, had she not scored her forefinger in
a most villainous manner by her awkward method of using her needle, when
her father was short of hands.

When I afterwards heard of Chatham as being the universal _depot_ of
"ladies who love wisely and not too well," rogues and Jews, I could not
help thinking of my writing-desk, and adding to the list, Jewesses also.

About a week after, we were still lying at Sheerness, and I had totally
forgotten the innocent-looking Jemima. Mr Pridhomme was smoking in a
lover-like and melancholy fashion, against orders, a short pipe in the
midshipmen's berth. As the ashes accumulated, he became at a loss for a
tobacco-stopper, and I very good-naturedly handed him over the broken,
broad-topped, vulgar-looking pencil-case, the gift of the adorable
Jemima. His apathy, at the sight of this relic of love, dispersed like
the smoke of his pipe.

"Where did you get this, younker?" he cried, swelling with passion, in
the true turkey-cock style.

"It was given to me as a keepsake by Miss Jemima," said I, very quietly.

"It's a lie--you stole it."

"You old scoundrel!"

"You young villain!"

"Take that!" roared my opponent; and the bread-basket, with its
fragmental cargo of biscuits, came full in my face, very considerately
putting bread into my mouth for his supposed injury.

"Take that!" said I, seizing the rum-bottle