er's clerk in the receipt
of two pounds a week, to whom this intelligence appeared particularly
amusing; "we know all about that--never heard that sort of tale before,
have we, ma? Oh no!" and the speaker emphasised the question by giving
his widowed mother a smart dig in the ribs.

"For shame, Sam! don't be vulgar!" cried the worthy lady; "how many
times have I told you?"

"All right, ma," replied the legal young gentleman; "but it is rather a
wonner, you know. What were they before they came down?"

"Gentlefolk, so I'm told," replied the lady, drawing herself up at the
very mention of the name; "and I hintend, and I 'ope my children will do
the same, to treat them as fellow-creatures with hevery consideration."

"And how old is the babies, ma?" inquired Miss Jemima, whose gentility
sometimes had the advantage of her grammar.

"The babies!" said the mother; "why, they're young gentlemen, both of
'em--old enough to be your sweethearts!"

Sam laughed profusely.

"Then what did you say they was babies for?" demanded Jemima, pettishly.

"I never!"

"You did, ma, I heard you! Didn't she, Sam?"

"So you did, ma. Come now, no crackers!" said Sam.

"I never; I said `childer,'" pleaded the mother.

"And ain't babies childer?" thundered Miss Jemima.

"'Ad 'er there, Jim!" chuckled the dutiful Samuel, this time favouring
his sister with a sympathetic nudge. "Better give in, and own you told
a cracker, ma!"

"Shan't!" said the lady, beginning to whimper. "Oh, I wish my poor
'Oward was here to protect me! He was a gentleman, and I'm glad he
didn't live to see what a pair of vulgar brats he'd left behind him,
that I am!"

"There you go!" said Sam; "taking on at nothing, as per usual! No one
was saying anything to hurt you, old girl. Simmer down, and you'll be
all the better for it. There now, dry your eyes; it's all that Jim,
she's got such a tongue! Next time I catch you using language to ma,
Jim, I'll turn you out of the house! Come, cheer up, ma."

"Yes, cheer up, ma," chimed in Jemima; "no one supposes you meant to
tell fibs; you couldn't help it."

Amid consolations such as these the poor flurried lady subsided, and
regained her former tranquillity of spirit.

The Shucklefords--such was the name of this amiable family--were
comparatively recent sojourners in Dull Street. They had come there six
years previously, on the death of Mr Shuckleford, a respectable
wharfinger, who had saved up money