all good wives ought to be--getting ready her husband's dinner.' I'll tell you what, Betty and I lived but a cat and dog life of it, but I was sorry to part with the old girl when she did go." On the day of Mrs. Williamson's funeral, the men employed on the works were seen lounging about doing nothing. Williamson noticed this, and inquired the reason? They told him that it was out of respect for their mistress. "Oh! stuff," said Williamson, "you work for the living, not for the dead. If you chaps don't turn to directly, I shall stop a day's wages on Saturday." Mr. Williamson's appearance was remarkable. His hat was what might have been truly called "a shocking bad one." He generally wore an old and very much patched brown coat, corduroy breeches, and thick, slovenly shoes; but his underclothing was always of the finest description, and faultless in cleanliness and colour. His manners were ordinarily rough and uncouth, speaking gruffly, bawling loudly, and even rudely when he did not take to any one. Yet, strange to say, at a private dinner or evening party, Mr. Williamson exhibited a gentleness of manner, when he chose, which made him a welcome guest. His fine, well-shaped, muscular figure fully six feet high, his handsome head and face made him, when well-dressed, present a really distinguished appearance. He seemed to be possessed of two opposite natures--the rough and the smooth. It was said that once, on a Royal Duke visiting Liverpool, he received a salute from Williamson, and was so struck with its gracefulness that he inquired who he was, and remarked that "it was the most courtly bow he had seen out of St. James's." Williamson was very fond of children. The voice of a little one could at any time soothe him when irritable. He used to say of them, "Ah, there's no deceit in children. If I had had some, I should not have been the _arch_-rogue I am.". The industrious poor of Edge-hill found in Williamson a ready friend in time of need, and when work was slack many a man has come to the pay-place on Saturday, who had done nothing all the week but dig a hole and fill it up again. Once, on being remonstrated with by a man he had thus employed, on the uselessness of the work, Williamson said, "You do as you are told--you honestly earn the money by the sweat of your brow, and the mistress can go to market on Saturday night--I don't want you to think." He often regaled his work-people with a barrel of ale or porter, saying they "worked all the better for their throats being wetted." His vast excavations when they were in their prime, so to speak, must have been proof of the great numbers of men he employed. He always said that he never made a penny by the sale of the stone. He gave sufficient, I believe, to build St. Jude's Church. He used vast quantities on his own strange structures.