This being settled, my father was enabled to make tenfold the smells he had ever made before, without any one hoisting a handkerchief. An inquisitive stranger would sometimes ask, whether this neighbourhood was always choked with vapours, which he coarsely stigmatized. A piece of valuable advice, common (yet neglected universally) about the prior claims of his own affairs, was the only reward for his sympathies. What right had a fellow, with a walking-stick, to come grumbling against our rate-payers, and their engineers, and contractors? Measures were being taken, or at any rate were in contemplation; and every man with a horse and cart would get fifteen shillings a day for them. But alas, how little do we forecast, while we vindicate, our own welfare! It would have been better for my dear father--as upright and downright a man as ever lived--to have gone to the expense of a new chimney-stack one hundred feet high, or even to have put out all his fires, than to have helped to bring that drain, down our hitherto Maiden valley. The soil in the bottom was of concentrated essence, combining all the density of bygone generations with the volatile relics of their labours. It would grow almost anything, if only scratched, and no healthier place for a walk could be found; but wisdom is not justified of her fathers, when she goes to turn them up. In happy ignorance of woes impending, I went back to the _Partheneion_, and found the whole establishment turned upside down. _Grip_ came with me, as a thing of course, and found his old barrel standing on its head, and a notice upon it in large letters--"No dogs allowed." If anything rouses the juvenile spirit, such rude breach of prescription does it. With the help of Jack Windsor, who was quite of my mind, I replaced the barrel in its old position, which was snug in a corner impregnable to guns, and I fastened him there with his own long chain, and said, "Now defend yourself, old boy. I have got lots of money, and you shall not starve." He fully understood the situation; and if any demand for sympathy arose, it would be on behalf of the individual attempting to dislodge him. Then all of us were summoned to the hall, to hear an oration from the "Principal"--as he styled himself, to start with--our new schoolmaster, Ernest Mauleverum Crankhead, a short brisk gentleman, quite young, with a pale square face, a yellow moustache, and very quick bronzy eyes, which never took two seconds' rest upon anything. Accustomed as we were to the long grave countenance, waving white locks, and calm abstracted gaze of our simple old Dr. Rumbelow, we could not believe that we saw the new man; until he stood up at what he called the _rostrum_, and hit it three times, with an ivory hammer.