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 no happiness awaited him. I think it must be old Norton after all; for no man could look so grave on the eve of marrying such a peerless creature as this Jenny Hart. Young and old caught a whisper of the news, but no one dared to banter her; in fact, there was no chance, she was so busy.

Tired and fagged they all were that day; and if you had looked down behind the counter, you would have seen Martin Barton, the much enduring creature, standing on one foot to rest the other. His wife had told him to do it years ago; and so, whenever he saw her standing on one foot, which was generally every Saturday, he thought it was high time to do the same. This day poor Jenny Hart did complain of fatigue, the first time Archy Campbell had ever heard her complain of any thing. "Are you tired, Jenny Hart?" said Martin Barton, "how sorry I am." "Tired, are you?" said Mrs. Martin Barton, "stand on one foot as we do Jenny Hart, that will rest the other." "Stand on one foot," said Jenny Hart, laughing, "I have not a foot left to stand upon."

"Oh, what a beautiful bunch of flowers," said a lady, "where did they come from, and whom are they for?"

"They came from our new place Camperdown," said Mrs. Martin Barton, "and they are for our two twins to-morrow."—Jenny Hart pushed her.

"Ah! true," said the lady, "I recollect you have twins; how old are they?"

"How old? let me see," said Mrs. Martin Barton, who really had known the night before; but Jenny's push had bewildered her—she was afraid that to tell their age, would be to tell the secret. "How old are they Jenny Hart?"

"Just seventeen, Mrs. Martin Barton, and the sun is down, you see. We shut up shop now at sundown," said Mr. Martin Barton. Seeing that many of the customers lingered—we are going to the