Page:Romance & Reality 2.pdf/260

258 The wind was fair; and Lord Mandeville having gone to the head of the vessel, where he was engaged in conversation, Emily was left to watch the shore of France, to which they were rapidly approaching, when her meditations were interrupted by a coarse but good-humoured voice saying, "I wish, miss, you would find me a corner on them there nice soft cushions—my old bones aches with them benches." Emily, with that best politeness of youth which shews attention to age, immediately made room in the carriage for the petitioner, who turned out to be her of the crimson pelisse. "Monstrous pleasant seat," said the visitor, expanding across one side of the carriage. Emily bowed in silence; but the vulgar are always the communicative, and her companion was soon deep in all their family history. "That's my husband, Mr. H.: our name is Higgs, but I calls him Mr. H. for shortness. Waste makes want, you know—we should not be here pleasuring if we had ever wasted. And those are my sons: the eldest is a great traveller—I dare-say you have heard of him—Lord bless you! there isn't a hill in Europe, to say nothing of that at Greenwich, that he hasn't been up: you see he's a stout little