The younger of the ladies at last made a bow with an accompanying blush. “Surely,” said I, “I have the honour of speaking to Mrs. Ravenswing?” “Mrs. Woolsey, sir,” said the gentleman; “my wife has long since left the stage:” and at this the old lady in the wonderful cap trod on my toes very severely, and nodded her head and all her ribands in a most mysterious way. Presently the two ladies rose and left the table, the elder declaring that she heard the baby crying. “Woolsey, my dear, go with your mamma,” said Mr. Woolsey, patting the boy on the head. The young gentleman obeyed the command, carrying off a plate of macaroons with him. “Your son is a fine boy, sir,” said I. “My step-son, sir,” answered Mr. Woolsey; and added, in a louder voice, “I knew you, Mr. Fitz-Boodle, at once, but did not mention your name for fear of agitating my wife. She don't like to have the memory of old times renewed, sir; her former husband, whom you know, Captain Walker, made her very unhappy. He died in America, sir, of this, I fear” (pointing to the bottle), “and Mrs. W. quitted the stage a year before I quitted business. Are you going on to Wiesbaden?” They went off in their carriage that evening, the boy on the box making great efforts to blow out of the postilion's tasselled horn. I am glad that poor Morgiana is happy at last, and hasten to inform you of the fact. I am going to visit the old haunts of my youth at Pumpernickel. Adieu. Yours, G. F.-B. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. CHAPTER I. THE FIGHT AT SLAUGHTER HOUSE. I am very fond of reading about battles, and have most of Marlborough's and Wellington's at my fingers' ends; but the most tremendous combat I ever saw, and one that interests me to think of more than Malplaquet or Waterloo (which, by the way, has grown to be a downright nuisance, so much do men talk of it after dinner, prating most disgustingly about “the Prussians coming up,” and what not)--I say the most tremendous combat ever known was that between Berry and Biggs the gown-boy, which commenced in a certain place called Middle Briars, situated in the midst of the cloisters that run along the side of the playground of Slaughter House School, near Smithfield, London. It was there, madam, that your humble servant had the honour of acquiring, after six years' labour, that immense fund of classical knowledge which in after life has been so exceedingly useful to him.