venture upon with so
difficult a subject as Titmouse, whom he at the same time inflamed by
representations of the splendid matches he might very soon command among
the highest women of the land. By these means Snap had, to a certain
extent, succeeded; but the few melting glances which had fallen upon
Titmouse's sensitive bosom from the eyes of Miss Quirk, were beginning
to operate a slight change in his feelings. The old alderman, on an
intimation that the "ladies were going to withdraw," laid violent hands
on Miss Quirk, (he was a "privileged" old fool,) and insisted on her
singing his favorite song--"_My Friend and Pitcher_"!! His request was
so warmly seconded by the rest of the company--Titmouse loud and eager
as any--that she was fain to comply. She sang with some sweetness, and
much self-possession; and carried Titmouse's feelings along with her
from the beginning, as Gammon, who was watching him, perceived.

"Most uncommon lovely gal, isn't she?" whispered Titmouse, with great
vivacity.

"Very!" replied Gammon, dryly, with a slight smile.

"Shall I call out _encore_? A'n't that the word? 'pon my soul, most
lovely gal! She _must_ sing it again!"

"No, no--she wishes to go--'tis not usual: she will sing it for you, I
dare say, this evening, if you ask her."

"Well--most charming gal!--Lovely!"----

"Have patience, my dear Titmouse," said Gammon, in a low whisper, "in a
few months' time you'll soon be thrown into much higher life than even
_this_--among _really_ beautiful, and rich, and accomplished
women"--[and, _thought_ Gammon, you'll resemble a monkey that has found
his way into a rich tulip-bed!]

"Fancy that girl Tag-rag standing beside Miss Quirk!" whispered
Titmouse, scornfully.

"Ha, ha!" gently laughed Gammon--"both of them, in their way, are very
worthy persons; but"--Here the ladies withdrew. 'Twas no part of
Gammon's schemes, that Titmouse should become the son-in-law of either
Quirk or Tag-rag. Mr. Gammon had formed already, vastly different plans
for him!

As soon as Quirk had taken the head of the table, and the gentlemen
drawn together, the bottles were pushed round very briskly, accompanied
by no fewer than three different sorts of snuff-boxes, all belonging to
Mr. Quirk--all of them presents from grateful Old Bailey clients! One
was a huge affair, of Botany Bay wood, with a very flaming inscription
on the inside of the lid; from which it appeared that its amiable
donors, who were tryin