An Independent Young Gentleman. “I want do d’an’ma!” This sudden and unexpected exclamation, uttered as it was in a shrill little voice like that of a piping bullfinch, and coming from nowhere in particular, as far as he could make out, for he had fancied himself all alone on the platform, made the tall railway porter almost jump out of his skin, as he expressed it, startling him out of his... more...

“Good-Bye!” “Time is getting on, little mother, and we’ll soon have to say farewell!” “Aye, my child. The parting is a sad one to me; but I hope and trust the good God will hold you in His safe keeping, and guide your footsteps back home to me again!” “Never you fear, little mother. He will do that, and in a year’s time we shall all meet again under the old roof-tree, I’m certain.... more...

Amongst the Plungers. “Hullo! Markworth. How lucky! Why you are just the man I want; you’re ubiquitous, who’d have thought of seeing you in town?” said Tom Hartshorne, of the —th Dragoons, cheerily, as he sauntered late one summer afternoon into a private billiard-room in Oxford-street, where a tall, dark-complexioned, and strikingly-handsome man, was knocking the balls about in his... more...