was
a Bristol gal; and her father being a bankrup in the tallow-chandlering
way, left, in course, a pretty little sum of money. A thousand pound
was settled on her; and she was as high and mighty as if it had been a
millium.

Buckmaster died, leaving nothink; nothink except four ugly daughters by
Miss Slamcoe: and her forty pound a year was rayther a narrow income for
one of her appytite and pretensions. In an unlucky hour for Shum she
met him. He was a widower with a little daughter of three years old,
a little house at Pentonwille, and a little income about as big as her
own. I believe she bullyd the poor creature into marridge; and it was
agreed that he should let his ground-floor at John Street, and so add
somethink to their means.

They married; and the widow Buckmaster was the gray mare, I can
tell you. She was always talking and blustering about her famly, the
celebrity of the Buckmasters, and the antickety of the Slamcoes. They
had a six-roomed house (not counting kitching and sculry), and now
twelve daughters in all; whizz.--4 Miss Buckmasters: Miss Betsy, Miss
Dosy, Miss Biddy, and Miss Winny; 1 Miss Shum, Mary by name, Shum's
daughter, and seven others, who shall be nameless. Mrs. Shum was a fat,
red-haired woman, at least a foot taller than S.; who was but a yard and
a half high, pale-faced, red-nosed, knock-kneed, bald-headed, his nose
and shut-frill all brown with snuff.

Before the house was a little garden, where the washin of the famly was
all ways hanging. There was so many of 'em that it was obliged to be
done by relays. There was six rails and a stocking on each, and four
small goosbry bushes, always covered with some bit of linning or other.
The hall was a regular puddle: wet dabs of dishclouts flapped in your
face; soapy smoking bits of flanning went nigh to choke you; and while
you were looking up to prevent hanging yourself with the ropes which
were strung across and about, slap came the hedge of a pail against your
shins, till one was like to be drove mad with hagony. The great slattnly
doddling girls was always on the stairs, poking about with nasty
flower-pots, a-cooking something, or sprawling in the window-seats
with greasy curl-papers, reading greasy novels. An infernal pianna was
jingling from morning till night--two eldest Miss Buckmasters, "Battle
of Prag"--six youngest Miss Shums, "In my Cottage," till I knew every
note in the "Battle of Prag," and cussed the day when "In my Cottage