ee him before
in all my life. A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; quite a new model.
With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be lovely."

"Not ugly enough," said Tackleton.

"Or for a fire-box either," observed Caleb in deep contemplation, "what
a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him heels up'ards
for the light; and what a fire-box for a gentleman's mantel-shelf, just
as he stands!"

"Not half ugly enough," said Tackleton. "Nothing in him at all. Come!
Bring that box! All right now, I hope?"

"Oh, quite gone! Quite gone!" said the little woman, waving him
hurriedly away. "Good night!"

"Good night!" said Tackleton. "Good night, John Peerybingle! Take care
how you carry that box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I'll murder you! Dark as
pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good night!"

So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the door;
followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head.

The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and so busily
engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had scarcely been conscious
of the Stranger's presence until now, when he again stood there, their
only guest.

"He don't belong to them, you see," said John. "I must give him a hint
to go."

"I beg your pardon, friend," said the old gentleman, advancing to him;
"the more so as I fear your wife has not been well; but the Attendant
whom my infirmity," he touched his ears, and shook his head, "renders
almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear there must be some
mistake. The bad night which made the shelter of your comfortable cart
(may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, is still as bad as ever.
Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to rent a bed here?"

"Yes, yes," cried Dot. "Yes! Certainly!"

"Oh!" said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent.
"Well! I don't object; but still I'm not quite sure that----"

"Hush!" she interrupted. "Dear John!"

"Why, he's stone deaf," urged John.

"I know he is, but----Yes, sir, certainly. Yes, certainly! I'll make him
up a bed directly, John."

As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the
agitation of her manner, were so strange, that the Carrier stood looking
after her, quite confounded.

"Did its mothers make it up a Beds, then!" cried Miss Slowboy to the
Baby; "and did its hair grow brown and curly when its caps was lifted
off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a sitting