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 place for 'eb, this! But do you hear ady caterwaulidg? Dot a bit of it! They dever cub here!—they dever will till I'b gode: add thed they'll have a regular jubilee, doubtless. But I cad't get a cat dow!—they all seeb to shud be! The old lady odce had a fadey of keepidg cats; but as she lost about ted every fortdight, she cut it!—so that I cad't get a cat dow at all!"

"Coffee's ready, sir," said James, as he entered the room.

"Very good," said Tom, "we'll be dowd id a bidite. But Jib, I've dothidg for supper here, have I?"

"No, sir; you finished it all up last night."

"Thed get me a pigeod pie: let it be a beauty. Have I ady stout left?"

"There are four or five bottles, sir."

"That will do, Jib. But let the pigeod pie, Jib, be double the size."

"Very well, sir," said James, as he left the room, and as Sylvester looked earnestly at Tom, as if he felt that some sort of an explanation would be agreeable, Tom said, "Syl, I'll tell you what it is: I like a bit of sobethidg for supper—I cad't sleep without it—add as the old swells below have dothidg but coffee, which is all very well id its way, I always sedd Jib for sobthidg dice to eat up here whed they are all gode to bed."

Sylvester thought this rational enough; and when he had given expression to his thoughts on the subject, they went down into the drawing-room together, and took coffee with Aunt Eleanor and Mrs. Delolme.

The doctor, who had been to see a patient, came in immediately after they had finished, and had coffee too; and when the tables had been cleared, he, Sylvester, and Tom, discussed the prominent merits of the medical profession—while Mrs. Delolme was pointing out to Aunt Eleanor various passages in the Bible which favoured her views—till the timepiece struck twelve, when the bell was rung, and the servants came up to prayers.

Mrs. Delolme read them, and the doctor sat opposite, but all the rest turned and knelt; but, although they were read with great fervour of expression, they failed to have any other effect upon the servants than that of inducing them to pinch each other, with the view of changing that aspect of solemnity which, on entering the room, they had assumed.

The prayers being ended, the servants withdrew; and, when Mrs. Delolme had pointed out the extreme beauty of those prayers, they all retired to rest, with the exception of Tom and Sylvester, who went into the study to eat the pigeon pie.

And it really was a nice pie, a very nice pie. Tom pronounced it to be "dothing but ad out-ad-outer!"—and they ate very heartily and enjoyed it very much. The stout too was good: it was capital stout. Tom declared "there was do bistake about it!"—nor was there any: no: it was well up and soft, and two bottles went down with surpassing smoothness.

But with two bottles Tom was not content. "We'll just have wud