domestic squabble, which was occurring in a
back-parlour closed in with folding doors;
and I don't think I made the impression
upon the master of the house, that I should
have done, if he had been a little calmer,
and not quite so red in the face. Many
of my interviews were with old ladies of
different ages and appearances, who in their
husbands' or brothers' absence, undertook to
transact business for them. Numbers whom I
saw, belonged to that section of the vestrymen,
who seldom or never went near the hall; and
others must have been that active, public-
spirited fifty before whom I went on the
day of the examination; and who although
perhaps, they received me more courteously
than the rest, had arranged who was to fill
the office, weeks and weeks before it was even
advertised.

Feeling assured that my exertion had not
been thrown away, I went with some degree
of confidence to the vestry hall on the day
of election. Our waiting-room was dull
enough now, for only the Weasel and myself
were there; for some reason, Master Bates
did not make his appearance. The Weasel
still adhered to his opinion about the
successful candidate; and a quarter of an hour
proved him to be correct. Master Bates was
announced as the parochial favourite.

I was a little damped in my ardour, by my ill-
success in this first attempt, but I took courage,
and did not suffer any advertisements to escape
me. I had repeated interviews with a great
number of very curious people, engaged, so I
presumed, in the getting up of public
companies. I found that the amount of cash
deposit required to insure my honesty and
fidelity varied from five to five hundred
pounds. In some instances I was invited, not
to say required, to take an interest in the
undertaking, and place myself in the desirable
position of an equal with the chairman and
directors. In one case they wanted a thousand
shares placed upon the market—a phrase
at that time totally beyond my comprehension;
in another they required two or more
passable men with good names and addresses
to be introduced, to complete the board of
directors.

Sometimes, it was a company for supplying
opera glasses in any quantity at two pence
per night, with the option of purchase at
eighteen pence; sometimes, a company for
introducing the manly game of skittles in
Paris, and throughout continental Europe;
sometimes, for working a copper mine in
a remote part of Cornwall; sometimes, for
constructing a railway, (under government
guarantee) whether the inhabitants liked it or
not, in the interior of China. Sometimes, it
was an inventor, who had got a patent that
promised golden harvests, and a little
knot of men rallying round him, with
quite as much ingenuity, but unfortunately
with just as little capital as he; coal mines,
iron works, slate quarries, plans for Class
education, life, fire, water and loan offices,
and travelling panoramic exhibitions, alike
wanted a secretary, who could do
something for them beyond the power of man—or
such a man as I was—to perform; and, of
course, my numerous letters and interviews
ended in nothing.

Occasionally, coming out of one door as I
was going in at another, or walking up a
street as I was walking down, I thought I
caught a passing glimpse of the faded respectability
and the careworn face of the man
I had particularly noticed at the parish
contest.

I next became one of a body of about fifty
candidates who answered the invitation of a
committee of a public charity about to
appoint a second secretary. It was called the
Society for the Promotion of—something
which I forget now; but I do not think I
should be far wrong if I said for the
Promotion of the comfort of its body of officers.
The house was in a leading thoroughfare—a
substantial mansion, adorned with an
imposing front of four Ionic columns. There
was an entrance hall with a stout porter in a
large black leathern chair and a most
luxurious livery. There was a waiting-room
furnished with the thickest of Turkey
carpets, the solidest of chairs and tables, neat
book-cases filled with large richly-bound
books, and portraits of heavy men in
the costume of a by-gone time. We were
shown into this comfortable apartment,
supported by charity, by the stout charity
porter, and we took our places on the chairs
ranged round the walls, and stared at each
other in blank silence. Presently the door
opened, and the gorgeous porter came in
with a paper in his hand, and read the first
name in an impressive manner. It was
mine. I followed him up a broad stone
staircase, richly carpeted, and across a wide
landing-place, ornamented with more pictures,
to the board-room—entering which, I found
myself in the presence of the governors of the
place. They were, as far as I can recollect,
without an exception, stout, red-faced, full-
blooded men, in white neckcloths and glossy
black coats. The charity they administered
was the proceeds of a large amount of public
benevolence engrafted upon an old bequest of
some man who had died in the reign of
Henry the Eighth, and whose property had
increased in value from year to year to an
extent that the bequeather could never have
dreamed of.

The room below was comfortable, but the
board-room was perfectly luxurious. A warm,
rich, full, purple glow fell from the
walls, the curtains, and carpets upon the
faces of all the committee. They looked as if
their charity, as usual, had begun at home, by
taking care of every man who was fortunate
enough to be upon that board. I went
through the usual examination. The
handwriting was mine; the testimonials were