condescend to give him a slight nod,
or to honour him with that peculiar form of recognition which is called
'taking a sight,' or to favour him with some other salute combining
pleasantry with patronage.

One morning Kit drove Mr Abel to the Notary's office, as he sometimes
did, and having set him down at the house, was about to drive off to a
livery stable hard by, when this same Mr Chuckster emerged from the
office door, and cried 'Woa-a-a-a-a-a!'--dwelling upon the note a long
time, for the purpose of striking terror into the pony's heart, and
asserting the supremacy of man over the inferior animals.

'Pull up, Snobby,' cried Mr Chuckster, addressing himself to Kit.
'You're wanted inside here.'

'Has Mr Abel forgotten anything, I wonder?' said Kit as he dismounted.

'Ask no questions, Snobby,' returned Mr Chuckster, 'but go and see.
Woa-a-a then, will you? If that pony was mine, I'd break him.'

'You must be very gentle with him, if you please,' said Kit, 'or you'll
find him troublesome. You'd better not keep on pulling his ears,
please. I know he won't like it.'

To this remonstrance Mr Chuckster deigned no other answer, than
addressing Kit with a lofty and distant air as 'young feller,' and
requesting him to cut and come again with all speed. The 'young
feller' complying, Mr Chuckster put his hands in his pockets, and tried
to look as if he were not minding the pony, but happened to be lounging
there by accident.

Kit scraped his shoes very carefully (for he had not yet lost his
reverence for the bundles of papers and the tin boxes,) and tapped at
the office-door, which was quickly opened by the Notary himself.

'Oh! come in, Christopher,' said Mr Witherden.

'Is that the lad?' asked an elderly gentleman, but of a stout, bluff
figure--who was in the room.

'That's the lad,' said Mr Witherden. 'He fell in with my client, Mr
Garland, sir, at this very door. I have reason to think he is a good
lad, sir, and that you may believe what he says. Let me introduce Mr
Abel Garland, sir--his young master; my articled pupil, sir, and most
particular friend:--my most particular friend, sir,' repeated the
Notary, drawing out his silk handkerchief and flourishing it about his
face.

'Your servant, sir,' said the stranger gentleman.

'Yours, sir, I'm sure,' replied Mr Abel mildly. 'You were wishing to
speak to Christopher, sir?'

'Yes, I was. Have I your permission?'

'By all means.'

'My business is