sounds, and the inhabitants of each room
enjoy a perfect privacy. I needn't again
mention to how great an extent these buildings
are fireproof.

Well, sir, said I, dissembling my contempt,
if all this turn out as you say—And as these
buildings prove, added the model-monger—
there ought soon to be a revolution in the
world of brick. Hollow bricks, you would
tell me, cost a quarter less than solid ones,
and are, in every respect, four times better.
Now what about the glazing? Well, sir,
said the gent, the use of it is obvious. It
looks much better than any plastering or
whitewash, or than common paper. It never
rots, spoils, or stains; can be washed with
a clout, and can't be made untidy. You see
by the specimens of imitation oak, and other
patterns, that rooms in houses of a better
class might be walled handsomely with this
glazed surface. Here, with a plain glaze,
the additional cost in these cottages would
average five pounds a room, and so add about
one-fourth to the estimated cost and rental of
the same houses in plain brick, whitewashed.
The living-room, however, might be lined
with glazed brick, at an extra cost of six or
seven pounds, which would add little to the
rent and a great deal to the comforts of the
occupant. However, sir, when once the
manufacture of these bricks is set into active
operation, we shall soon have the glazing
process simplified and cheapened. Those
used by us are the first specimens; the future
price, therefore, is undetermined. I just
happened, by the merest accident, to be looking
at the stove, when the gent plucked a
paper feather from his nest. Here, says he,
is an account of the grates and ranges used
here. Thank you, sir, says I, I'll put it in
my pocket. Anything else? Here are the
ventilators; and here's an account of them.
Here are plans and descriptions of the
Model Dwellings in London erected by the
Society for Improving the Condition of the
Labouring Classes. The office of that society
is at 21, Exeter Hall, Strand, and every
information you desire to guide you in erecting
improved cottages, they will rejoice to
furnish, if you take the trouble to apply to
them at that address.

Any other information in our power now,
sir, or at any time, tending to practical results,
is at your service here. We desire nothing so
much as that all gentlemen who build for
labourers and petty renters should make free
inquiry. There are people who have hitherto
obtained large profits by the suffocation of
the poor——. Good morning, sir, says I;
and as my blessed Tartar got out of her chair
in the corner, to follow me down stairs, she
gave the fellow such a stamp upon his toes,
by accident, as made his eyes water. So we
came away, and all I've got to say about it
is, that I should like to see one of my varmints
in Church Lane inhabiting one of them set of
rooms. I 'd as soon expect to see a mermaid.

When the gentlemen officers die off in Sierra
Leone, and their effects are sold, the Kruboys
buy their finery. There you may see a
Kruboy, otherwise naked, sporting a light
leather stock and Wellington boots, or a
cocked-hat and flowing dressing-gown. I
don't like inconsistencies; but my opinion is,
we needn't fear what scraps of gentility our
chaps in England here pick up. Humbugs
may trade upon an Education cry, or get up
agitation about wholesome dwellings. What
I say is, Britons won't be humbugged. You
say, that thousands of Her Majesty's subjects
are filthy and ignorant. They are of age,
ar'n't they? Let them look after themselves;
wait, if you please, you mighty forward
gentlemen, until they ask you to be cleansed
and taught. Mind your own business, and
don't be prying into the affairs of other
people. If I ever come to think my rents in
danger, I've a bulldog that will like to taste
some people's legs, and I hope, for his sake,
that he'll find their calves as juicy as he
likes. That's all I've got to say.

THE ISLAND IN THE RIVER.
IN THREE PARTS.
PART II.—CHAPTER THE THIRD.

FROM year to year, the friendship of young
William Chester for the girl increased, ripening
at length into an afiection more deep and
disinterested than is known by any but
children, though by them more often than is
generally believed. Her visit to Eton was
repeated every summer, and once the boy
returned with her, and remained upon the
island during his holidays. His uncle marked
the intimacy between them without displeasure;
for he said it was not well that the
young should be always with the old. The
nephew was now fifteen years old, and many
were the deliberations between Mrs. Frampton
and his uncle upon the business which
should be chosen for him. "He shall not
take to my trade," said he, " leading a kind
of vagabond life, never stopping two days in
one place. No, no, Mrs. Frampton; whenever
I may die, the barge shall be sold, and
all my little money shall be his and yours."

"Lord forbid!" said Mrs. Frampton, with
more sincerity than always accompanies such
ejaculations.

"He is a 'clever boy,' " he continued, "and
has got learning, which I never had. If he'd
like to be a doctor, I would try what I could
do to get him apprenticed."

"My opinion is," said Mrs. Frampton, "that
we should let him choose his own trade.
You may depend he won't thrive so well in
any of our choosing."

When his nephew returned from school
that evening, the barge-master told him of
their conversation, and asked him if he had
thought of any trade which he would like to
learn.