she used to ogle him, and quot bits of pottry, and play “Meet Me by Moonlike,” on an old gitter: she reglar flung herself at his head: but he wouldn't have it, bein better ockypied elsewhere.     

       One night, as genteel as possible, he brought home tickets for “Ashley's,”        and proposed to take the two young ladies—Miss Betsy and Miss Mary, in course. I recklect he called me aside that afternoon, assuming a solamon and misterus hare, “Charles,” said he, “ARE YOU UP TO SNUFF?”      

       “Why sir,” said I, “I'm genrally considered tolerably downy.”      

       “Well,” says he, “I'll give you half a suffering if you can manage this bisness for me; I've chose a rainy night on purpus. When the theatre is over, you must be waitin with two umbrellows; give me one, and hold the other over Miss Buckmaster: and, hark ye, sir, TURN TO THE RIGHT when you leave the theater, and say the coach is ordered to stand a little way up the street, in order to get rid of the crowd.”      

       We went (in a fly hired by Mr. A.), and never shall I forgit Cartliche's hacting on that memrable night. Talk of Kimble! talk of Magreedy! Ashley's for my money, with Cartlitch in the principal part. But this is nothink to the porpus. When the play was over, I was at the door with the umbrellos. It was raining cats and dogs, sure enough.     

       Mr. Altamont came out presently, Miss Mary under his arm, and Miss Betsy following behind, rayther sulky. “This way, sir,” cries I, pushin forward; and I threw a great cloak over Miss Betsy, fit to smother her. Mr. A. and Miss Mary skipped on and was out of sight when Miss Betsy's cloak was settled, you may be sure.     

       “They're only gone to the fly, miss. It's a little way up the street, away from the crowd of carridges.” And off we turned TO THE RIGHT, and no mistake.     

       After marchin a little through the plash and mud, “Has anybody seen Coxy's fly?” cries I, with the most innocent haxent in the world.     

       “Cox's fly!” hollows out one chap. “Is it the vaggin you want?” says another. “I see the blackin wan pass,” giggles out another gentlmn; and there was such a hinterchange of compliments as you never heerd. I pass them over though, because some of 'em were not wery genteel.     

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