ead one of the conversations between Rasselas and Imlac, in a
high-pitched, majestic voice; and when she had ended she said, "I
imagine I am now justified in my preference of Dr. Johnson as a writer
of fiction." The captain screwed his lips up, and drummed on the
table, but he did not speak. She thought she would give a finishing
blow or two.

"I consider it vulgar, and below the dignity of literature, to publish
in numbers."

"How was The Rambler published, ma'am?" asked Captain Brown, in a low
voice, which I think Miss Jenkyns could not have heard.

"Dr. Johnson's style is a model for young beginners. My father
recommended it to me when I began to write letters--I have formed my
own style upon it; I recommend it to your favorite."

"I should be very sorry for him to exchange his style for any such
pompous writing," said Captain Brown.

Miss Jenkyns felt this as a personal affront, in a way of which the
captain had not dreamed. Epistolary writing she and her friends
considered as her _forte_. Many a copy of many a letter have I seen
written and corrected on the slate, before she "seized the half-hour
just previous to post-time to assure her friends" of this or that; and
Dr. Johnson was, as she said, her model in these compositions. She
drew herself up with dignity, and only replied to Captain Brown's last
remark by saying, with marked emphasis on every syllable, "I prefer
Dr. Johnson to Mr. Boz."

It is said--I won't vouch for the fact--that Captain Brown was heard
to say, _sotto voce_, "D----n Dr. Johnson!" If he did, he was penitent
afterwards, as he showed by going to stand near Miss Jenkyns's
arm-chair, and endeavoring to beguile her into conversation on some
more pleasing subject. But she was inexorable.

VISITING

From 'Cranford'

One morning, as Miss Matty and I sat at our work--it was before twelve
o'clock, and Miss Matty had not changed the cap with yellow ribbons
that had been Miss Jenkyns's best, and which Miss Matty was now
wearing out in private, putting on the one made in imitation of Mrs.
Jamieson's at all times when she expected to be seen--Martha came up,
and asked if Miss Betty Barker might speak to her mistress. Miss Matty
assented, and quickly disappeared to change the yellow ribbons while
Miss Barker came up-stairs; but as she had forgotten her spectacles,
and was rather flurried by the unusual time of the visit, I was not
surprised to see her return with one cap on the top of t