letter nine months.

"Well, if it don't, mother, it don't--that's all; but what I say is, blood is thicker than water, or else old Uncle Eb--as I never see, only heard o--wouldn't have said he'd send me a present--would he, Hoppy?"

"Hey?"

"I say Uncle Rounce wouldn't have said he'd send me a present if blood warn't thicker than water."

"No. Have you got it yet?" said the old fellow.

"No, not yet. I asked Max about it, and he said he didn't believe it would come."

"He said that, did he?"

"Yes, he said that," replied Dick, doubling the letter again, and replacing it behind the old looking-glass. "I dessay it'll come, though, some day."

"You had better try and sell those boots at once," said Mrs Shingle rather impatiently, and as if she had not much faith in the coming money.

"Sell 'em? Yes; but who's to buy 'em? There's only two feet in London as will fit 'em, and they're Max's."

"I declare it's too bad, Dick dear, and we so pressed for money. The rent's due, you know. Rolling in riches, as he is, and to behave so to his poor brother, who works so hard."

"Gently, mother, gently: it's only a way he's got. But I do work pretty hard, don't I?--only I'm so unlucky."

"Why don't you make a good dash at something, instead of plodding, then?" said Hopper suddenly.

"Come, now," cried Dick, with an ill-used look and tone, "don't you turn round on me, Hoppy, old man. We're too good friends for that. It's what Max always says; and I ain't clever, so how can I?"

Hopper relapsed into silence.

"There, there, I shall get over it," continued Dick, working away; "and as to rolling in riches, why, Max can't help rolling in riches, any more than I can help rolling in nothing. It's his way. But I say, mother, if we had riches, I think I could roll in 'em with the best."

"Don't talk nonsense, Dick," said Mrs Shingle, "when we're so worried too. There," she added, in a whisper, as their visitor rose, "we're driving him away."

"Going, Hoppy, old man?" said Dick, as their visitor rose and laid aside his pipe.

"Yes, going now," said the old fellow. "I'll drop in, perhaps, in the evening."

"We haven't put you out, have we?" said Dick.

"No, no, my lad; it's all right. Dick, just lend me sixpence. My money is not due till Monday."

Dick's countenance fell, and he glanced at his wife.

"Have you got a sixpence, Polly?" he said.

"Not one," was the reply.

"I'm very sorry, Hoppy, old man," said Dick, looking more puzzled than ever, and as if this time he really could not understand why he should be so poor and his brother so rich--"but really I haven't got it."

"Never mind," said the old fellow--"never mind; I dare say I can do without."

And, grumbling and muttering, he took up his hat and stick, and went off.