When my mother brought the pattens,
the lady looked at them with dismay.

"I never wore a pair of pattens in my
life," said she.

"Never wore pattens?" said my father.
"Then pray get a pair directly; they will
keep your feet dry, and save you more than
their price in shoe-leather."

The lady put on the pattens, and burst
out a laughing.

"Pray excuse me; they are so absurd;
but I think I can manage to balance myself;
so thank you for your great civility, and I
will be sure to send back your property as
soon as I get home."

Week after week, until six weeks were
told, slipped away, and no tidings came of
the lady. My father was nicely joked by
the neighbours about his new silk umbrella
and my mother's pattens; but he always
told them he was sure the things would
come back some day or other.

One morning, a fine carriage, with a
couple of tall footmen behind, carrying
gold-headed canes, stopped at our door.
A lady got out; the identical lady to whom
my father had lent his umbrella.

"You must forgive me," said she, "for
keeping your umbrella so long; but I was
obliged to go to Spain to my husband, who
is with Wellington, and I returned only
last night. Here is your umbrella—not
the worse for wear, I hope—and accept
my thanks for the loan of it. Pray let me
speak a word to your good lady."

My mother came into the shop, and the
lady, calling one of the footmen, asked him
for the parcel on the seat in the carriage.
When it was brought and opened, it
contained my mother's pattens, and a
beautiful Spanish merino shawl, which the lady
insisted on her accepting.

"And, here," said she, taking out a long
strip of paper and giving it to my father:
"I've put down a few things I want; Lord
Groogroo has given me this other list.
Please send them to the addresses on these
cards. Good morning; I shall not forget
you."

And this lady proved to be no less a
personage than the Marchioness Crickcrack!

I afterwards learned that Lady Crickcrack,
when her purchases were completed,
walked over to her house in Dean-street—
Dean-street was then full of noblemen's
mansions—and there, meeting with a party
of distinguished people, told them the story
of the umbrella and the pattens. The
pattens were ordered into the drawing-
room, and great merriment was occasioned
by the ladies present trying their skill at
walking in them.

Lady Crickcrack and Lord Groogroo not
only continued their custom, but sent us
their friends. Lord Groogroo took very
much to my father. He was the proudest
man in Europe; wouldn't touch the handle
of the door with his glove; always touched
it with the tail of his coat. But he was a
true gentleman, every inch. He used to
say to my father: "Row, you must take a
holiday. Go down to my place, stay a
week or a month, and tell the butler and
housekeeper to make you comfortable."

My father, if he pleased, might have
been one of the magistrates at
Marlborough-street Police Court. Lord
Groogroo sent for him one morning, and when
he came into the room, said:

"Row, you've been smoking."

"I assure your lordship I have not."

"Then you've been in a room where
other people were smoking. Go home and
change your coat, and come back to me
directly."

"My father went home and put on
another coat, and when he came back his
lordship said:

"Row, you are to be the new magistrate
at Marlborough-street Police Court. I have
spoken to Sidmouth, and he has promised
to accept my nomination."

"But, my lord, I don't think I am fit for
the position!"

"I say you are. We want such men
as you on the bench. It's worth your
acceptance. Six hundred a year, and a
house to live in."

"I have heard, my lord, that Lord Henry
Petty has applied on behalf of Mr. Conant,
the bookseller."

"I know it. Petty's a twopenny Whig,
and has no chance. I've arranged the
matter with Sidmouth; so think it over,
and let me have your answer in a week."

"My father went home and talked over
the offer with my mother; but he loved his
old bookshop, and as he had his hands full
of publishing business, he decided on not
accepting it; he wrote a letter of thanks,
declining to take the place.

He always used to say that two rainy
days were the luckiest days of his life. The
first brought him prosperity in business;
the second perhaps saved his life, certainly
saved his leg.

There was a parish feast at the
Marlborough Head tavern, at which one of the
vestry had to put a dozen of wine on the
table. My father was there, and had taken