ers); and he will conclude by proposing their
worthy 'Host and Hostess, and may they live to enjoy many more new
years!'

The toast is drunk with acclamation; Dobble returns thanks, and the whole
party rejoin the ladies in the drawing-room. Young men who were too
bashful to dance before supper, find tongues and partners; the musicians
exhibit unequivocal symptoms of having drunk the new year in, while the
company were out; and dancing is kept up, until far in the first morning
of the new year.

We have scarcely written the last word of the previous sentence, when the
first stroke of twelve, peals from the neighbouring churches. There
certainly--we must confess it now--is something awful in the sound.
Strictly speaking, it may not be more impressive now, than at any other
time; for the hours steal as swiftly on, at other periods, and their
flight is little heeded. But, we measure man's life by years, and it is
a solemn knell that warns us we have passed another of the landmarks
which stands between us and the grave. Disguise it as we may, the
reflection will force itself on our minds, that when the next bell
announces the arrival of a new year, we may be insensible alike of the
timely warning we have so often neglected, and of all the warm feelings
that glow within us now.

CHAPTER IV--MISS EVANS AND THE EAGLE

Mr. Samuel Wilkins was a carpenter, a journeyman carpenter of small
dimensions, decidedly below the middle size--bordering, perhaps, upon the
dwarfish. His face was round and shining, and his hair carefully twisted
into the outer corner of each eye, till it formed a variety of that
description of semi-curls, usually known as 'aggerawators.' His earnings
were all-sufficient for his wants, varying from eighteen shillings to one
pound five, weekly--his manner undeniable--his sabbath waistcoats
dazzling. No wonder that, with these qualifications, Samuel Wilkins
found favour in the eyes of the other sex: many women have been
captivated by far less substantial qualifications. But, Samuel was proof
against their blandishments, until at length his eyes rested on those of
a Being for whom, from that time forth, he felt fate had destined him.
He came, and conquered--proposed, and was accepted--loved, and was
beloved. Mr. Wilkins 'kept company' with Jemima Evans.

Miss Evans (or Ivins, to adopt the pronunciation most in vogue with her
circle of acquaintance) had adopted in early life the useful pursuit of