s our friend Mr. Watkins Tottle; a very
old acquaintance I assure you,' said Mrs. Parsons, presenting the
Strephon of Cecil-street, Strand. The lady rose, and made a deep
courtesy; Mr. Watkins Tottle made a bow.

'Splendid, majestic creature!' thought Tottle.

Mr. Timson advanced, and Mr. Watkins Tottle began to hate him. Men
generally discover a rival, instinctively, and Mr. Watkins Tottle felt
that his hate was deserved.

'May I beg,' said the reverend gentleman,--'May I beg to call upon you,
Miss Lillerton, for some trifling donation to my soup, coals, and blanket
distribution society?'

'Put my name down, for two sovereigns, if you please,' responded Miss
Lillerton.

'You are truly charitable, madam,' said the Reverend Mr. Timson, 'and we
know that charity will cover a multitude of sins. Let me beg you to
understand that I do not say this from the supposition that you have many
sins which require palliation; believe me when I say that I never yet met
any one who had fewer to atone for, than Miss Lillerton.'

Something like a bad imitation of animation lighted up the lady's face,
as she acknowledged the compliment. Watkins Tottle incurred the sin of
wishing that the ashes of the Reverend Charles Timson were quietly
deposited in the churchyard of his curacy, wherever it might be.

'I'll tell you what,' interrupted Parsons, who had just appeared with
clean hands, and a black coat, 'it's my private opinion, Timson, that
your "distribution society" is rather a humbug.'

'You are so severe,' replied Timson, with a Christian smile: he disliked
Parsons, but liked his dinners.

'So positively unjust!' said Miss Lillerton.

'Certainly,' observed Tottle. The lady looked up; her eyes met those of
Mr. Watkins Tottle. She withdrew them in a sweet confusion, and Watkins
Tottle did the same--the confusion was mutual.

'Why,' urged Mr. Parsons, pursuing his objections, 'what on earth is the
use of giving a man coals who has nothing to cook, or giving him blankets
when he hasn't a bed, or giving him soup when he requires substantial
food?--"like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt." Why not give
'em a trifle of money, as I do, when I think they deserve it, and let
them purchase what they think best? Why?--because your subscribers
wouldn't see their names flourishing in print on the church-door--that's
the reason.'

'Really, Mr. Parsons, I hope you don't mean to insinuate that I wish to
see _my_ name in pr