to have got to understand it all without being
told a word, went away and brought him.

Never never never, shall I forget the fair
bright face of our boy when he stood at the foot
of the bed, looking at his unknown father. And O
so like his dear young mother then!

"Jemmy" I says, "I have found out all about
this poor gentleman who is so ill, and he did
lodge in the old house once. And as he wants
to see all belonging to it, now that he is passing
away, I sent for you."

"Ah poor man!" says Jemmy stepping
forward and touching one of his hands with great
gentleness. "My heart melts for him. Poor,
poor, man!"

The eyes that were so soon to close for ever,
turned to me, and I was not that strong in the
pride of my strength that I could resist them.

"My darling boy, there is a reason in the
secret history of this fellow-creetur, lying as the
best and worst of us must all lie one day, which
I think would ease his spirit in his last hour if
you would lay your cheek against his forehead
and say 'May God forgive you!'"

"O Gran," says Jemmy with a full heart "I
am not worthy!" But he leaned down and did
it. Then the faltering fingers made out to catch
hold of my sleeve at last, and I believe he was a
trying to kiss me when he died.

* * * * *

There my dear! There you have the story of
my Legacy in full, and it's worth ten times the
trouble I have spent upon it if you are pleased
to like it.

You might suppose that it set us against the
little French town of Sens, but no we didn't
find that. I found myself that I never looked up
at the high tower atop of the other tower, but
the days came back again when that fair young
creetur with her pretty bright hair trusted in me
like a mother, and the recollection made the place
so peaceful to me as I can't express. And every
soul about the hotel down to the pigeons in the
court-yard made friends with Jemmy and the
Major, and went lumbering away with them on all
sorts of expeditions in all sorts of vehicles drawn
by rampagious cart-horses—with heads and
without—mud for paint and ropes for harness and
every new friend dressed in blue like a butcher,
and every new horse standing on his hind legs
wanting to devour and consume every other
horse, and every man that had a whip to crack
crack-crack-crack-crack-cracking it as if it was a
schoolboy with his first. As to the Major my dear
that man lived the greater part of his time with
a little tumbler in one hand and a bottle of small
wine in the other, and whenever he saw anybody
else with a little tumbler, no matter who it was
—the military character with the tags, or the
inn servants at their supper in the court-yard, or
towns-people a chatting on a bench, or country-
people a starting home after market—down
rushes the Major to clink his glass against their
glasses and cry—Hola! Vive Somebody! or
Vive Something! as if he was beside himself.
And though I could not quite approve of the
Major's doing it, still the ways of the world are

the ways of the world varying according to
different parts of it, and dancing at all in the
open Square with a lady that kept a barber's shop
my opinion is that the Major was right to dance
his best and to lead off with a power that I did not
think was in him, though I was a little uneasy at
the Barricading sound of the cries that were set
up by the other dancers and the rest of the
company, until when I says "What are they ever
calling out Jemmy?" Jemmy says "They're calling
out Gran, Bravo the Military English! Bravo
the Military English!" which was very gratifying
to my feelings as a Briton and became the
name the Major was known by.

But every evening at a regular time we all
three sat out in the balcony of the hotel at the end
of the court-yard, looking up at the golden and
rosy light as it changed on the great towers, and
looking at the shadows of the towers as they
changed on all about us ourselves included, and
what do you think we did there? My dear if
Jemmy hadn't brought some other of those
stories of the Major's taking down from the
telling of former lodgers at Eighty-one Norfolk-
street, and if he didn't bring 'em out with this
speech:

"Here you are Gran! Here you are
Godfather! More of 'em! I'll read. And though
you wrote 'em for me, Godfather, I know you
won't disapprove of my making 'em over to
Gran; will you?"

"No my dear boy," says the Major. "Everything
we have is hers, and we are hers."

"Hers ever affectionately and devotedly J.
Jackman, and J. Jackman Lirriper," cries the
Young Rogue giving me a close hug. "Very
well then Godfather. Look here. As Gran is in
the Legacy way just now, I shall make these
stories a part of Gran's Legacy. I'll leave 'em
to her. What do you say Godfather?"

"Hip hip Hurrah!" says the Major.

"Very well then" cries Jemmy all in a bustle.
"Vive the Military English! Vive the Lady
Lirriper! Vive the Jemmy Jackman Ditto!
Vive the Legacy! Now, you look out, Gran.
And you look out, Godfather, I'll read! And I'll
tell you what I'll do besides. On the last
night of our holiday here when we are all
packed and going away, I'll top up with
something of my own."

"Mind you do sir" says I.

"Don't you be afraid, Gran" cries Young
Sparkles. "Now then! I'm going to read. Once,
twice, three and away. Open your mouths and
shut your eyes, and see what Fortune sends you.
All in to begin. Look out Gran. Look out
Godfather!"

So in his lively spirits Jemmy began a reading,
and he read every evening while we were
there, and sometimes we were about it late
enough to have a candle burning quite steady
out in the balcony in the still air. And so
here is the rest of my Legacy my dear that I
now hand over to you in this bundle of papers
all in the Major's plain round writing. I wish
I could hand you the church towers over too,
and the pleasant air and the inn yard and the