apt is one passion to rouse up others.

Jane Hardie let fall a gentle tear: but consoled herself with the
conviction that she had done her duty, and that Alfred's anger was quite
unreasonable, and so he would see as soon as he should cool.

The next day the lover, smarting under this check, and spurred to fresh
efforts, invaded Sampson. That worthy was just going to dine at Albion
Villa, so Alfred postponed pumping him till next day. Well, he called at
the inn next day, and if the doctor was not just gone back to London!

Alfred wandered disconsolate homewards.

In the middle of Buchanan Street, an agitated treble called after him,
"Mr. Halfred! hoh, Mr. Halfred!" He looked back and saw Dick Absalom, a
promising young cricketer, brandishing a document and imploring aid. "Oh,
Master Halfred, dooce please come here. I durstn't leave the shop."

There is a tie between cricketers far too strong for social distinctions
to divide, and, though Alfred muttered peevishly, "Whose cat is dead
now?" he obeyed the strange summons.

The distress was a singular one. Master Absalom, I must premise, was the
youngest of two lads in the employ of Mr. Jenner, a benevolent old
chemist, a disciple of Malthus. Jenner taught the virtues of drugs and
minerals to tender youths, at the expense of the public. Scarcely ten
minutes had elapsed since a pretty servant girl came into the shop, and
laid a paper on the counter, saying, "Please to make that up, young man."
Now at fifteen we are gratified by inaccuracies of this kind from ripe
female lips: so Master Absalom took the prescription with a complacent