of
the Lust Haus in the rear, with convenient offices, and a back-door into
the street behind.

Mr Vanslyperken had arrived, paid his humble devoirs to the widow, more
humble, because he was evidently pleased with his own person, and had
been followed by Smallbones, who laid the biscuit by the scraper at the
door, watching it as in duty bound. The lieutenant imagined that he was
more graciously received than usual. Perhaps he was, for the widow had
not had so much custom lately, and was glad the crew of the cutter were
arrived to spend their money. Already had Vanslyperken removed his sword
and belt, and laid them with his three-cornered laced hat on the
side-table; he was already cosily, as of wont, seated upon the widow's
little fubsy sofa, with the lady by his side, and he had just taken her
hand and was about to renew his suit, to pour forth the impromptu
effusions of his heart, concocted on the quarter-deck of the _Yungfrau_,
when who should bolt into the parlour but the unwelcome Snarleyyow.

"O that nasty brute! Mynheer Vanslyperken, how dare you bring him into
my house?" cried the widow, jumping up from the sofa, with her
full-moon-face red with anger.

"Indeed, widow," replied Vanslyperken, "I left him on board, knowing
that you were not fond of animals; but some one has brought him on
shore. However, I'll find out who it was, and keel-haul him in honour of
your charms."

"I am fond of animals, Mr Vanslyperken, but I am not fond of such
animals as that--such a filthy, ugly, disagreeable, snarling brute; nor
can I think how you can keep him after what I have said about it. It
don't prove much regard, Mr Vanslyperken, when such a dog as that is
kept on purpose to annoy me."

"I assure you, widow--"

"Don't assure me, Mr Vanslyperken, there's no occasion--your dog is your
own--but I'll thank you to take him out of this house; and, perhaps, as
he won't go without you, you had better go with him."

Now the widow had never spoken so indignantly before: if the reader
wishes to know why she did so now, we will acquaint him; the widow
Vandersloosh had perceived Smallbones, who sat like Patience on a
monument, upon the two half bags of biscuit before her porch. It was a
query to the widow whether they were to be a present, or an article to
be bargained for: it was therefore very advisable to pick a quarrel,
that the matter might be cleared up. The widow's ruse met with all the
success which it deserved. In the f