chap like me, in the same line of speculation: look at Tom Tarnish--how did he get Miss Twang, the rich pianoforte-maker's daughter?--and _now_ he's cut the shop, and lives at Hackney, like a regular gentleman! Ah! that _was_ a stroke! But somehow it hasn't answered with _me_ yet; the gals don't take! How I have set my eyes to be sure, and ogled them!--_All_ of them don't seem to dislike the thing--and sometimes they'll smile, in a sort of way that says I'm safe--but it's been no use yet, not a bit of it!--My eyes! catch me, by the way, ever nodding again to a lady on the Sunday, that had smiled when I stared at her while serving her in the shop--after what happened to me a month or two ago in the Park! Didn't I feel like damaged goods, just then? But it's no matter, women are so different at different times!--Very likely I mismanaged the thing. By the way, what a precious puppy of a chap the fellow was that came up to her at the time she stepped out of her carriage to walk a bit! As for good looks--cut me to ribbons (another glance at the glass) no; I a'n't afraid _there_, neither--but--heigho!--I suppose he was, as they say, born with a golden spoon in his mouth, and had never so many a thousand a-year, to make up to him for never so few brains! He was uncommon well-dressed, though, I must own. What trousers!--they stuck so natural to him, he might have been born in them. And his waistcoat, and satin stock--what an air! And yet, his figure was nothing _very_ out of the way! His gloves, as white as snow; I've no doubt he wears a pair of them a-day--my stars! that's three-and-sixpence a-day; for don't I know what _they_ cost?--Whew! if I had but the cash to carry on that sort of thing!--And when he'd seen her into her carriage--the horse he got on!--and what a tip-top groom--that chap's wages, I'll answer for it, were equal to my salary! (Here was another pause.) Now, just for the fun of the thing, only suppose luck was to befall _me_! Say that somebody was to leave me lots of cash--many thousands a-year, or something in that line! My stars! wouldn't I go it with the best of them! (Another long pause.) Gad, I really should hardly know how to begin to spend it!--I think, by the way, I'd buy a _title_ to set off with--for what won't money buy? The thing's often done; there was a great pawn-broker in the city, the other day, made a baronet of, all for his money--and why shouldn't I?" He grew a little heated with the progress of his reflections, clasping his hands with involuntary energy, as he stretched them out to their fullest extent, to give effect to a very hearty yawn. "Lord, only think how it would sound!-- "SIR TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE, BARONET;" or, "LORD TITMOUSE!!"