upon as a happy ending to a pleasant holiday. But, in this world, we
must consider others. The lady under whose roof I have the honour of
residing is a widow, and, for all I know, possibly an orphan too. She
has a strong, I may say an eloquent, objection to being what she terms
`put upon.' The presence of your husband's cheeses in her house she
would, I instinctively feel, regard as a `put upon'; and it shall never
be said that I put upon the widow and the orphan."

"Very well, then," said my friend's wife, rising, "all I have to say is,
that I shall take the children and go to an hotel until those cheeses are
eaten. I decline to live any longer in the same house with them."

She kept her word, leaving the place in charge of the charwoman, who,
when asked if she could stand the smell, replied, "What smell?" and who,
when taken close to the cheeses and told to sniff hard, said she could
detect a faint odour of melons. It was argued from this that little
injury could result to the woman from the atmosphere, and she was left.

The hotel bill came to fifteen guineas; and my friend, after reckoning
everything up, found that the cheeses had cost him eight-and-sixpence a
pound. He said he dearly loved a bit of cheese, but it was beyond his
means; so he determined to get rid of them. He threw them into the
canal; but had to fish them out again, as the bargemen complained. They
said it made them feel quite faint. And, after that, he took them one
dark night and left them in the parish mortuary. But the coroner
discovered them, and made a fearful fuss.

He said it was a plot to deprive him of his living by waking up the
corpses.