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 guest, for they were opposed to each other in all their modes of thought and action; but he had come across the travelling agent of the Patent Metallic Steel Furniture Company on the previous day, and finding that he was to be alone in London on this general holiday, he had asked him out of sheer good nature. Moulder could be very good natured, and full of pity when the sorrow to be pitied arose from some such source as the want of a Christmas dinner. So Mr. Kantwise had been asked, and precisely at four o'clock he made his appearance at Great St. Helens.

But now, as to this brother-in-law. He was no other than that John Kenneby whom Miriam Usbech did not marry,—whom Miriam Usbech might, perhaps, have done well to marry. John Kenneby, after one or two attempts in other spheres of life, had at last got into the house of Hubbles and Grease, and had risen to be their book-keeper. He had once been tried by them as a traveller, but in that line he had failed. He did not possess that rough, ready, self-confident tone of mind which is almost necessary for a man who is destined to move about quickly from one circle of persons to another. After a six months' trial he had given that up, but during the time, Mr. Moulder, the senior traveller of the house, had married his sister. John Kenneby was a good, honest, painstaking fellow, and was believed by his friends to have put a few pounds together in spite of the timidity of his character.

When Snengkeld and Kenneby were shown up into the room, they found nobody there but Kantwise. That Mrs. Moulder should be down stairs looking after the roast turkey was no more than natural; but why should not Moulder himself he there to receive his guests? He soon appeared, however, coming up without his coat.

'Well, Snengkeld, how are you, old fellow; many happy returns, and all that; the same to you, John. I'll tell you what, my lads; it's a prime 'un. I never saw such a bird in all my days.'

'What, the turkey?' said Snengkeld.

'You didn't think it'd be a ostrich, did you?'

'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed Snengkeld. 'No, I didn't expect nothing but a turkey here on Christmas-day.'

'And nothing but a turkey you'll have, my boys. Can you eat turkey, Kantwise?'

Mr. Kantwise declared that his only passion in the way of eating was for a turkey.

'As for John, I’m sure of him. I’ve seen him at the work before.' Whereupon John grinned but said nothing.

'I never see such a bird in my life, certainly.'

'From Norfolk, I suppose,' said Snengkeld, with a great appearance of interest.

'Oh, you may swear to that. It weighed twenty-four pounds, for I put it into the scales myself, and old Gibbetts let me have it for