somebody at once."

"Yes," I reply; "I'll go and see how I fancy it. Have they got a
billiard-table, do you happen to know?"

The President says, "he doesn't know anything about _that_," and looks
a little surprised, as if I had proposed a game of skittles.

On way down (next day) I feel rather like a Governess going to her
first situation. Get to house late. Too dark to see what it's like.
Have to drive up in a village fly. _Query_--Oughtn't they to have sent
their carriage for me?

My reception is peculiar. A stout, masculine-looking female with a
strident voice, is presumably Mrs. BRISTOL MERCHANT.

Sends me up to my bed-room as if I were my own luggage. Evidently very
"uncultivated."

In my bed-room. Above are the sounds of a small pandemonium,
apparently. Stamping, falling, shouting, bumping, crying. What a lot
of them there must be!

There are! At supper--they appear to have early dinners, which I
detest--three boys and one girl present, as a sample. Eldest a youth
about ten, who puts out his tongue at me, when he thinks I'm not
looking, and kicks his brothers beneath the table to make them cry,
which they do. I begin to wonder when my real pupil will appear.

Governess talks to me as if I were a brother professional.