So, you see, she works as much as three maid-servants for the wages of one. She is as thankful when the Doctor gives her a new gown, as if he had presented her with a fortune: laughs at his stories most good-humouredly, listens to Zoe's scolding most meekly, admires Flora with all her heart, and only goes out of the way when Jack Birch shows his sallow face: for she can't bear him, and always finds work when he comes near. How different she is when some folks approach her! I won't be presumptuous; but I think, I think, I have made a not unfavourable impression in some quarters. However, let us be mum on this subject. I like to see her, because she always looks good-humoured; because she is always kind, because she is always modest, because she is fond of those poor little brats--orphans some of them,--because she is rather pretty, I dare say, or because I think so, which comes to the same thing. Though she is kind to all, it must be owned she shows the most gross favouritism towards the amiable children. She brings them cakes from dessert, and regales them with Zoe's preserves; spends many of her little shillings in presents for her favourites, and will tell them stories by the hour. She has one very sad story about a little boy, who died long ago; the younger children are never weary of hearing about him; and Miss Raby has shown to one of them a lock of the little chap's hair, which she keeps in her work-box to this day. THE DEAR BROTHERS. _A Melodrama in several Rounds_. The Doctor. Mr. Tipper, Uncle to the Masters Boxall. Boxall Major, Boxall Minor, Brown, Jones, Smith, Robinson, Tiffin Minimus. B. Go it old Boxall. J. Give it him young Boxall. R. Pitch into him old Boxall. S. Two to one on young Boxall. [Enter Tiffin Minimus, _running._ _Tiffin Minimus_. Boxalls! you 're wanted. (_The Doctor to Mr. Tipper._) Every boy in the school loves them, my dear sir; your nephews are a credit to my establishment. They are orderly, well-conducted, gentleman-like boys. Let us enter and find them at their studies. [_Enter_ The Doctor _and_ Mr. Tipper. GRAND TABLEAU. A HOPELESS CASE. |Let us, people who are so uncommonly clever and learned, have a great tenderness and pity for the poor folks who are not endowed with the prodigious talents which we have. I have always had a regard for dunces;--those of my own school-days were amongst the pleasantest of the fellows, and have turned out by no means the dullest in life; whereas many a youth who could turn off Latin hexameters by the yard, and construe Greek quite glibly, is no better than a feeble prig now, with not a pennyworth more brains than were in his head before his beard grew. Those poor dunces! Talk of being the last man, ah! what a pang it must be to be the last boy--huge, misshapen, fourteen years of age,--and "taken up" by a chap who is but six years old, and can't speak quite plain yet! [Illustration: 0037]