one with silver nails, not this measurement'--the measurement of
the dancing child upon the counter--'by a good two inches.---Will you
take something?'

I thanked him, but declined.

'Let me see,' said Mr. Omer. 'Barkis's the carrier's wife--Peggotty's
the boatman's sister--she had something to do with your family? She was
in service there, sure?'

My answering in the affirmative gave him great satisfaction.

'I believe my breath will get long next, my memory's getting so much
so,' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir, we've got a young relation of hers here,
under articles to us, that has as elegant a taste in the dress-making
business--I assure you I don't believe there's a Duchess in England can
touch her.'

'Not little Em'ly?' said I, involuntarily.

'Em'ly's her name,' said Mr. Omer, 'and she's little too. But if you'll
believe me, she has such a face of her own that half the women in this
town are mad against her.'

'Nonsense, father!' cried Minnie.

'My dear,' said Mr. Omer, 'I don't say it's the case with you,' winking
at me, 'but I say that half the women in Yarmouth--ah! and in five mile
round--are mad against that girl.'

'Then she should have kept to her own station in life, father,' said
Minnie, 'and not have given them any hold to talk about her, and then
they couldn't have done it.'

'Couldn't have done it, my dear!' retorted Mr. Omer. 'Couldn't have
done it! Is that YOUR knowledge of life? What is there that any woman
couldn't do, that she shouldn't do--especially on the subject of another
woman's good looks?'

I really thought it was all over with Mr. Omer, after he had uttered
this libellous pleasantry. He coughed to that extent, and his breath
eluded all his attempts to recover it with that obstinacy, that I fully
expected to see his head go down behind the counter, and his little
black breeches, with the rusty little bunches of ribbons at the knees,
come quivering up in a last ineffectual struggle. At length, however,
he got better, though he still panted hard, and was so exhausted that he
was obliged to sit on the stool of the shop-desk.

'You see,' he said, wiping his head, and breathing with difficulty, 'she
hasn't taken much to any companions here; she hasn't taken kindly to
any particular acquaintances and friends, not to mention sweethearts. In
consequence, an ill-natured story got about, that Em'ly wanted to be a
lady. Now my opinion is, that it came into circulation principally on
accou