ng, however, like an endowed
church, and may God keep me and all my friends from the voluntary
system!--ha! ha! ha! Come, now, for that same hit at the old proctor,
you must walk over here and play me my old favorite, the 'Cannie
Soogah,' just to pull down your pride. The 'Cannie Soogah,' you know, is
the Irish for Jolly Pedlar, and a right jolly pedlar your worthy father
was once in his days."

"By the way, papa," said Mary, "talking of that--what has become of
the pleasant man that goes under that name or nickname--the pedlar that
calls here occasionally?"

"I saw him in the market yesterday," replied her father, "and a fine,
hale fellow he is of his years. For a man of fifty he's a miracle of
activity and energy."

"They say he is wealthy," observed John, "and I shouldn't wonder. You
ought to give a good guess at that, father--ha! ha! ha!"

"Right, John, I ought, and I think he is. You don't know how money
gathers with a successful pedlar, who is up to his business. I am
inclined to think that the Cannie Soogah is the only man who can throw
any light on the history of Buck English."

"Who the devil is that impudent scoundrel, father? for it appears that,
as regards his birth, family, and origin, nobody knows anything certain
about him."

"And that is just the position in which I stand," replied his father.
"It is a subject on which he himself gives no satisfaction to any one.
When asked about it, he laughs in jour face, and replies that he
doesn't exactly know, but is of the opinion that he is the son of his
father--whoever that was; but that, he says, he is not wise enough to
know either, and then, after another laugh at you, he leaves you."

"How does he live?" asked John, "for he has no visible means of
support--he neither works nor is engaged in any profession, and yet he
dresses well."

"Well! John;" exclaimed Julia.

"Perhaps I ought not to say--_well_, Julia; but at all events, he is
very fond of being considered a buck, and he certainly dresses up to
that character."

"He admits that he was eight years in England," said his father;
"although, for my part, it's just as likely that he spent seven years
of that time in Botany Bay; if not, I should have no objection that
something should occur to make him spend the remainder of his life
there."

"Why should you wish the man so ill, papa'?" asked Mary.

"Why, Mary--faith for a very good reason, my dear child; because I don't
wish to see your siste