y wife. "Wife," said I, "it is never
out of my house and never out of my mind."

"But when is Mr. Scribe to begin to pull it down?" asked Anna.

"Not to-day, Anna," said I.

"WHEN, then?" demanded Julia, in alarm.

Now, if this chimney of mine was, for size, a sort of belfry, for
ding-donging at me about it, my wife and daughters were a sort of bells,
always chiming together, or taking up each other's melodies at every
pause, my wife the key-clapper of all. A very sweet ringing, and
pealing, and chiming, I confess; but then, the most silvery of bells
may, sometimes, dismally toll, as well as merrily play. And as touching
the subject in question, it became so now. Perceiving a strange relapse
of opposition in me, wife and daughters began a soft and dirge-like,
melancholy tolling over it.

At length my wife, getting much excited, declared to me, with pointed
finger, that so long as that chimney stood, she should regard it as the
monument of what she called my broken pledge. But finding this did not
answer, the next day, she gave me to understand that either she or the
chimney must quit the house.

Finding matters coming to such a pass, I and my pipe philosophized over
them awhile, and finally concluded between us, that little as our hearts
went with the plan, yet for peace' sake, I might write out the chimney's
death-warrant, and, while my hand was in, scratch a note to Mr. Scribe.

Considering that I, and my chimney, and my pipe, from having been so
much together, were three great cronies, the facility with which my pipe
consented to a project so fatal to the goodliest of our trio; or rather,
the way in which I and my pipe, in secret, conspired together, as
it were, against our unsuspicious old comrade--this may seem rather
strange, if not suggestive of sad reflections upon us two. But, indeed,
we, sons of clay, that is my pipe and I, are no whit better than the
rest. Far from us, indeed, to have volunteered the betrayal of our
crony. We are of a peaceable nature, too. But that love of peace it was
which made us false to a mutual friend, as soon as his cause demanded
a vigorous vindication. But, I rejoice to add, that better and braver
thoughts soon returned, as will now briefly be set forth.

To my note, Mr. Scribe replied in person.

Once more we made a survey, mainly now with a view to a pecuniary
estimate.

"I will do it for five hundred dollars," said Mr. Scribe at last, again
hat in hand.

"Very well,