this hopeful young person soared into so
pleasing a Cupid as to constitute the chief
delight of the maternal part of the spectators;
but, in private, where his characteristics were
a precocious cutaway coal and an extremely
gruff voice, he became of the Turf, turfy.

"By your leaves, gentlemen," said Mr.
E. W. B. Childers, glancing round the room.
"It was you, I believe, that were wishing to
see Jupe?"

"It was," said Mr. Gradgrind. " His
daughter has gone to fetch him, but I can't
wait; therefore, if you please, I will leave a
message for him with you."

"You see, my friend," Mr. Bounderby put
in, " we are the kind of people who know the
value of time, and you are the kind of people
who don't know the value of time."

"I have not," retorted Mr. Childers, after
surveying him from head to foot, " the
honor of knowing you—; but if you mean that
you can make more money of your time than
I can of mine, I should judge from your
appearance, that you are about right."

"And when you have made it, you can keep
it too, I should think," said Cupid.

"Kidderminster, stow that! " said Mr.
Childers, (Master Kidderminster wag Cupid's
mortal name).

"What does he come here cheeking us for,
then? " cried Master Kidderminster, showing
a very irascible temperament. " If you want
to cheek us, pay your ochre at the doors and
take it out."

"Kidderminster," said Mr. Childers, raising
his voice, "stow that!—Sir," to Mr. Gradgrind,
"I was addressing myself to you. You may
or you may not be aware (for perhaps you
have not been much in the audience), that
Jupe has missed his tip very often, lately."

"Has—what has he missed? " asked Mr.
Gradgrind, glancing at the potent Bounderby
for assistance.

"Missed his tip."

"Offered at the Garters four times last
night, and never done 'em once," said Master
Kidderminster. "Missed his tip at the banners,
too, and was loose in his ponging."

"Didn't do what he ought to do. Was
short in his leaps and bad in his tumbling,"
Mr. Childers interpreted.

"Oh! " said Mr. Gradgrind, " that is tip, is
it?"

"In a general way that's missing his tip,"
Mr. E. W. B. Childers answered.

"Nine-oils, Merrylegs, missing tips, garters,
banners, and Ponging, eh! " ejaculated
Bounderby with his laugh of laughs. " Queer
sort of company too, for a man who has raised
himself."

"Lower yourself, then," retorted Cupid.
"Oh Lord! If you've raised yourself so high
as all that comes to, let yourself down a bit."

"This is a very obtrusive lad!" said Mr.
Gradgrind, turning, and knitting his brows
on him.

" We'd have had a young gentleman to
meet you, if we had known you were coming,
"retorted Master Kidderminster, nothing
abashed. " It's a pity you don't have a
bespeak, being so particular. You're on the
Tight-Jeff, ain't you?"

"What does this unmannerly boy mean,"
asked Mr. Gradgrind, eyeing him in a sort of
desperation, " by Tight-Jeff?"

"There! Get out, get out! " said Mr.
Childers, thrusting his young friend from the
room, rather in the prairie manner. " Tight-
Jeff or Slack-Jeff, it don't much signify; it's
only tight-rope and slack rope. You were
going to give me a message for Jupe?"

"Yes, I was."

"Then," continued Mr. Childers, quickly,
"my opinion is, he will never receive it. Do
you know much of him ? "

"I never saw the man in my life."

"I doubt if you ever will see him now. It's
pretty plain to me, he is off."

"Do you mean that he has deserted his
daughter?"

"Ay! I mean," said Mr. Childers, with a
nod, " that he has cut. He was goosed last
night, he was goosed the night before last, he
was goosed to-day. He has lately got in the
way of being always goosed, and he can't
stand it."

"Why has he been—so very much—Goosed?"
asked Mr. Gradgrind, forcing the word out of
himself, with great solemnity and reluctance.

"His joints are turning stiff, and he is
getting used up," said Childers. He has
his points as a Cackler still, but he can't
get a living out of them."

"A Cackler!" Bounderby repeated. "Here
we go again!"

"A speaker, if the gentleman likes it better,"
said Mr. E. W. B. Childers, superciliously
throwing the interpretation over his shoulder,
and accompanying it with a shake of his long
hair—which all shook at once. " Now, it's a
remarkable fact, sir, that it cut that man
deeper, to know that his daughter knew of
his being goosed, than to go through with it."

"Good! " interrupted Mr. Bounderby.
"This is good, Gradgrind! A man so fond
of his daughter, that he runs away from her!
This is devilish good! Ha! ha! Now, I'll
tell you what, young man. I haven't always
occupied my present station of life. I know
what these things are. You may be astonished
to hear it, but my mother ran away from me."

E. W. B. Childers replied pointedly, that
he was not at all astonished to hear it.

"Very well," said Bounderby. " I was
born in a ditch, and my mother ran away
from me. Do I excuse her for it? No. Have
I ever excused her for it? Not I. What do
I call her for it? I call her probably the very
worst woman that ever lived in the world,
except my drunken grandmother. There's
no family pride about me, there's no imaginative
sentimental humbug about me. I call a
spade a spade; and I call the mother of Josiah
Bounderby of Coketown, without any fear or