ould!" answered the vender of deals and
mahogany; "so put in all brother Charles's sons, one after t'other, in
the same manner as they before--let me see, what's their names? Oh,
George first, then Robert, and then Richard, and that's the whole of
they."

"I believe, sir," said the attorney, "before I can do so, I must beg the
favour of a candle, for it's growing so dark I am unable to see what I
write."

"Then come nigher to the winder," said the testator, pushing forward the
table in that direction--"Hallo!" he exclaimed, "what can all this yer
row and bustle be about outside?"--and, looking into the street, he
discovered poor Selim lying prostrate in the middle of the road, from
whence some persons were raising up Job himself, who was stunned and
bleeding from the violence of his fall. A young lad had accidentally
driven his hoop between the horse's legs, which threw the unlucky animal
with such violence to the ground as to fracture one of its fore-legs,
and inflict several other dreadful injuries, far beyond all power or
hope of cure. But the man of wealth contemplated the passing scene with
that species of complacent satisfaction, with which men like-minded with
himself are ever found to regard the misfortunes of others, when they
themselves can by no possibility be prejudiced thereby. This selfish old
villain, therefore, instead of evincing any sympathy, was highly amused
at what was going on, and every now and then passed some remark or other
indicative of those feelings, of which the following, amongst others,
afford a pretty fair specimen:--

"Well," he said, "pride they say must have a fall, and a fine fall we've
had here to be sure. Well, who'd a-thought it? But what I say is, that
for a man that can't pay his way as he goes--and his twenty shillings in
the pound whenever he's called upon for it--what I mean to say is, if a
fellow like he will ride so fine a horse, why, it serves him parfectly
right if he gets his neck broke. Oh, then, I see your neck ar'n't broke
this time, after all! Getting better, b'aint you?--pity, isn't it? Oh
dear! what can the matter be? I'll be hanged if he isn't a-crying like a
babbey that's broke his pretty toy. Ay, my master, cry your eyes out,
stamp and whop your head--'twont mend matters, I promise ye. Clear case
of total loss, and no insurance to look to, eh! And that's the chap as
had the himpudence but t'other day to call me a hard-hearted old
blackguard, and that before o