in the City, was, we had no doubt, doing his
best also.

One day, however, certain observations that
we made rendered it clear enough that a man
had been put into possession of the house.
There was Mrs. Batkinson's piano, and there
was the whole mass of valuable odds and
ends, made liable to seizure. We said, "This
is uncomfortable; but it is no reason why we
should leave the Poolbys. They have only to
tell us candidly so much as it is necessary
for us to know, and let us see our way; then
we shall not get into danger." I, therefore,
expressed some such idea to Mr. Poolby, who
declared that he was not at all embarrassed,
and explained the man away as cleverly as
Niebuhr would have explained it away, if it
had been Roman myth.

Six days afterwards there was a distraint
in the house for rent, and there were
dreadful scenes of family commotion. The
explanations had to be retracted. It became
evident to us that Mr. Poolby was not a wise
man, because he was not trustworthy. His
conduct on that occasion also proved that he
was not competent to manage prudently the
business of life. He was for holding up his
head and looking big; his feet might find
their own way, he would not humble his
eyes so much as to look after them.

A child may lead a blind man from a ditch,
and so with help of the most trifling kind we
rescued Mr. Poolby from the ruin of his
household gods; by which small aid he felt,
I fear, humiliated, and for which we never
were forgiven.

By this crisis we became acquainted with
a great deal more than we should have learnt
under other circumstances. Our confidence
in Mr. Poolby we found reason to withdraw,
but Mrs. Batkinson felt sympathy for Mrs.
Poolby. There were the boxes also, which, with
an infant Batkinson then on her hands, how
could she pack? As for me, if I packed the
things, they would all be in the most disastrous
way cracked, crushed, and crumpled. We
determined, therefore, though we found the
house marked in the neighbourhood, and
ourselves regarded as deluded people by the
neighbours, we determined to abide by the
storm-beaten vessel. Our presence would be
useful, for we were disposed to act as friends,
and our departure would be certainly
significant of evil.

We waited, therefore, and—since Mr. Pooby
said no more of his affairs—watched
carefully the motions of his duns, counted the
summonses delivered at the gate, and came
to know familiarly the face of the messenger
belonging to the County Court. A circumstance
that I need not relate had removed
every possibility that remained of respect
being entertained towards Mr. Poolby. For
the position of his wife, who looked often pale
and tearful, we felt sympathy. We still
maintained, therefore, our determination to
abide by the ship, watching the storm
carefully. We agreed together that we would
endure quietly all the discomforts of our
position, give what aid we could, and only
depart when self-preservation made it absolutely
necessary.

The course of events, however, I regret to
say, had caused Mr, Poolby's pride to be
wounded by our presence, especially the
presence of Mrs. Batkinson, whom he had
made, by evil chance, the witness of an ugly
fact. The hostile attitude proper against
lodgers was assumed towards us. Finally,
Mr. Poolby took offence at a simple,
well-meant act of Mrs. B's., and wrote me
therefore a letter full of insolence. I sent it back
to him. He wrote me another letter, and
required an interview. I saw him. He was
insolent again; and, as his pride was of a kind
that can only go before a fall, as a puff of
wind goes before rain, no motive, either of
kindness or self interest, suggested that I
should do otherwise than resent his impertinence;
so I gave notice to quit, and went in
quest of other lodgings.

Other lodgings for Mr. and Mrs. Batkinson
encumbered with an infant, a swing cot, a
piano, and a van-load of dresses, bonnets,
antique China, Bohemian glass, inkstands,
chessmen, card-dishes, butter knives, tea-
caddies, cream jugs, etc., etc., etc., etc. After
what we had endured, was it not natural
that we should sit down on our boxes in despair,
and look at one another, and begin to
sigh for liberty! I will tell no more of our
wanderings. This has been already only too
much of a moving tale. I send my voice now
up out of the depths of a new desolation.
Enough, noble army of householders, receive
me. I can bear these miseries no more.

GOOD LAC.

TO avoid all personality, let it be
supposed that the city on the Ganges named
in the succeeding narrative is Dashapore,
and that I had to do there with the house
of Blankman, Asterisk, and Co.; although I
had not much to do with them. They are the
proprietors of a large lac factory, which they
permitted me to visit, and I am about to
relate what I saw and thought of it; that is
all. It should be understood, however, that
there is a mystery connected with the manufacture
of shell, seed, and stick-lac, and that
there may be secrets in the business that I
wot not of. There are two great factories in
Dashapore. Within one of them no foot of
stranger is allowed to tread; it refused access
even to Lord Auckland when he was Governor
General. The other, that of Blankman
and Co., excludes all traders; but courteously
allows the works to be seen by any members
of the civil or military service, or by travellers
from Europe. That one I have seen and
will describe; but I can make no startling
revelations, and have looked the subject up
in no Encyclopaedias. I simply took fresh