ch relieved by this information. "Well, my
good man, what do you wish me to do for you? anything that is in my
power to--"

"Thankee, ma'am, but I don't want you to do nothin' for _me_."

"Then what have you to say to me?" added the old lady with a little
smile that was clearly indicative of a kind little heart.

"I've come to take the liberty, ma'am, of askin' you to do one of my
mates a favour."

"Most willingly," said Mrs Tipps with animation. "I shall never forget
that you saved my dear Joseph's life by pulling him off the line when
one of your dreadful engines was going straight over him. Anything that
I am capable of doing for you or your friends will be but a poor return
for what you have done for me. I have often asked you to allow me to
make me some such return, Mr Marrot, and have been grieved at your
constant refusal. I am delighted that you come to me now."

"You're very good to say so, ma'am. The fact is that one o' my friends,
a porter on the line, named Sam Natly, has a young wife who is, I fear,
far gone wi' consumption; she's worse to-night an' poor Sam's obliged to
go on night dooty, so he can't look arter her, an' the old 'ooman
they've got ain't worth nothin'. So I thought I'd make bold, ma'am, to
ask you to send yer servant to git a proper nurse to take charge of her
to-night, it would be--"

"I'll go myself!" exclaimed Mrs Tipps, interrupting, and starting up
with a degree of alacrity that astonished the engine-driver. "Here,
write down the address on that piece of paper--you can write, I
suppose?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied John, modestly, as he bent down and wrote the
address in a bold flowing hand, "I raither think I _can_ write. I write
notes, on a paper I've got to fill up daily, on the engine; an' w'en a
man's trained to do that, ma'am, it's my opinion he's fit to write in
any circumstances whatsomedever. Why, you'd hardly believe it, ma'am,
but I do assure you, that I wrote my fust an' last love-letter to my
missus on the engine. I was drivin' the Lightenin' at the time--that's
the name o' my engine, ma'am, an' they calls me Jack Blazes in
consikence--well, I'd bin courtin' Molly, off-an'-on, for about three
months. She b'longed to Pinchley station, you must know, where we used
to stop to give her a drink--"

"What! to give Molly a drink?"

"No, ma'am," replied John, with a slight smile, "to give the ingine a
drink. Well, she met me nigh every day 'xcept Sundays at that s