hing his chest for being cold.
"Ah-h-h-h!"

He took a silent trot, after that, for a minute or two.

"There's nothing," said Toby, "more regular in its coming round than
dinner time, and nothing less regular in its coming round than dinner.
That's the great difference between 'em. It's took me a long time to
find it out. I wonder whether it would be worth any gentleman's while,
now, to buy that obserwation for the Papers; or the Parliament!"

Tony was only joking, for he gravely shook his head in
self-depreciation.

"Why! Lord!" said Toby. "The Papers is full of obserwations as it is;
and so's the Parliament. Here's last week's paper, now;" taking a very
dirty one from his pocket, and holding it from him at arm's length;
"full of obserwations! Full of obserwations! I like to know the news as
well as any man," said Toby, slowly; folding it a little smaller, and
putting it in his pocket again: "but it almost goes against the grain
with me to read a paper now. It frightens me almost. I don't know what
we poor people are coming to. Lord send we may be coming to something
better in the New Year nigh upon us!"

"Why, father, father!" said a pleasant voice, hard by.

But Toby, not hearing it continued to trot backward and forward: musing
as he went, and talking to himself.

"It seems as if we can't go right, or do right, or be righted," said
Toby. "I hadn't much schooling, myself, when I was young; and I can't
make out whether we have any business on the face of the earth, or not.
Sometimes I think we must have--a little; and sometimes I think we must
be intruding. I get so puzzled sometimes that I am not even able to make
up my mind whether there is any good at all in us, or whether we are
born bad. We seem to do dreadful things; we seem to give a deal of
trouble; we are always being complained of and guarded against. One way
or another, we fill the papers. Talk of a New Year!" said Toby,
mournfully. "I can bear up as well as another man at most times; better
than a good many, for I am as strong as a lion, and all men an't; but
supposing it should really be that we have no right to a New
Year--supposing we really _are_ intruding----"

"Why, father, father!" said the pleasant voice again.

Toby heard it this time; started; stopped; and shortening his sight,
which had been directed a long way off as seeking for enlightenment in
the very heart of the approaching year, found himself face to face with
his own child, and