m.
Eight o'clock struck, whips cracked, wheels rattled, the eight o'clock
mail was gone, and there was not a single letter left in the great
sorting-room of St. Martin's-le-Grand!

"I was right, you see," said Mr Bright.

"You were right," responded Miss Lillycrop.

They descended and crossed the now unencumbered floor. The snake took
it into its mottled head at that moment to do the same. Miss Lillycrop
saw it, shrieked, sprang to get out of its way, fell, and sprained her
ankle!

There was a rush of sorters, letter-carriers, boy-sorters, and
messengers; the snake was captured, and Miss Lillycrop was tenderly
borne from the General Post-Office in a state of mental amazement and
physical collapse.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

FORMATION OF THE PEGAWAY LITERARY ASSOCIATION AND OTHER MATTERS.

Close to the residence of Solomon Flint there was a small outhouse or
shed, which formed part of the letter-carrier's domain, but was too
small to be sub-let as a dwelling, and too inconveniently situated in a
back court to be used as an apartment. It was therefore devoted to the
reception of lumber. But Solomon, not being a rich man, did not possess
much lumber. The shed was therefore comparatively empty.

When Philip Maylands came to reside with Solomon, he was allowed to use
this shed as a workroom.

Phil was by nature a universal genius--a Jack-of-all-trades--and formed
an exception to that rule about being master of none, which is asserted,
though not proved, by the proverb, for he became master of more than one
trade in the course of his career. Solomon owned a few tools, so that
carpentry was naturally his first attempt, and he very soon became
proficient in that. Then, having discovered an old clock among the
lumber of the shed, he took to examining and cleaning its interior of an
evening after his work at the Post-Office was done. As his mechanical
powers developed, his genius for invention expanded, and soon he left
the beaten tracks of knowledge and wandered into the less trodden
regions of fancy.

In all this Phil had an admirer and sympathiser in his sister May; but
May's engagements, both in and out of the sphere of her telegraphic
labours, were numerous, so that the boy would have had to pursue his
labours in solitude if it had not been for his friend Peter Pax, whose
admiration for him knew no bounds, and who, if he could, would have
followed Phil like his shadow. As often as the little fellow could