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MR. Tremlett took the young vagabond to the Asylum from
whence he had escaped, but he heard nothing in relation
to him which the reader has not already been made acquainted
with; indeed all that he cared to know was that the boy was
destitute, beyond dispute, of either father or mother, and that
there was not the slightest probability of any relation ever appearing
to claim him, or to interfere with his education. The
managers of the institution very cheerfully acceded to Mr.
Tremlett's proposal to adopt the youngster and he was accordingly
bound over in due form. The Matron, Mrs. Swazey's
particular friend, did, indeed, express an infinite deal of sorrow
at parting with him, and protested that she loved him as
if he were her own flesh and blood; a declaration which the
subject of her admiration seemed to regard as quite figurative
and highly poetical, as he had often had occasion to remark
a wide difference between her manner of treating him and herself,
not only in regard to the outward but the inward treatment
of her flesh and blood.

Upon inspecting the books of the institution it was found
that the boy really had a surname, although he did not know
it himself, as he had never been called by any other name
than John. But Mr. Tremlett meant to bestow his own family
name upon him, and hereafter he will be distinguished as
John Tremlett, for by that name alone was he thenceforth
called and known.

It was a long time after Mr. Tremlett had adopted the boy

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before the fact became known to the world in general, and to
Mr. Tuck in particular. All the clerks in the counting room
of Tremlett & Tuck, from the head book-keeper down to the
porter had noticed a change in the senior partner, which had
not escaped the observation of Mr. Tuck, who began to have
suspicions that his partner was engaged in some private stock
operations. He stayed longer at his dinner and left his desk
at an earlier hour than he had ever been in the habit of doing;
and several times he had been seen to rub his hands together
and smile, apparently with great internal satisfaction; but nobody
could guess at the cause of his manifest delight, although
there were a good many shrewd wits set to work to find it
out. Two or three times when a drum of figs, or a frail of
dates had been opened in the sample room he had been seen
to take a handful and wrap them up in a news-paper and put
them slyly into his pocket. As a matter of course all such
unheard of doings were duly noted and fully discussed. The
younger clerks said he was going to get married, while the
head book-keeper surmised that he had `got religion,' and the
head salesman guessed that he was going to dissolve the firm
and form a special partnership, which was very agreeably received
by the cash-keeper and the head book-keeper in whose
minds it awakened brilliant ideas, that one, or both, might be
taken into the new concern. Although there was a great
variety of opinions on the subject, as must of necessity be the
case when nothing positive is known, there was but one
as to the fact that something very wonderful had happened,
or would happen to the senior partner.

The truth was that Mr. Tremlett felt like a man who indulges
himself in forbidden pleasures, for although he had
been guilty of nothing which his conscience could not approve,
yet he could not muster fortitude enough to impart his secret
to Mr. Tuck; he had several times made the attempt when they
were alone together, but his heart always failed him, and the
longer he delayed, the more embarrassed he felt. At last he

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determined to leave to chance to reveal what he was so desirous
and yet so afraid of doing, and it was not long before the
fond old merchant was relieved from his embarrassment in a
most unexpected manner.

One pleasant morning just before bank hours, a very dashy
carriage, of an indescribable colour, drawn by two very gay
black horses and set off by a coachman and footman in most
uncomfortable looking drab coats with a wicked superfluity
of capes, stopped at the door of Messers. Tremlett & Tuck's
counting room and discharged two beautiful ladies, or if they
were not beautiful, there is no truth in the adage that, fine
feathers make fine birds, who immediately tripped into the
office of that respectable firm with an air, as though they
came on business which would insure them a hearty reception.
Their appearance created an immense fluttering among the
clerks, to whom such apparitions were extremely rare during
office hours.

“Is the head of the firm in?” asked one of the ladies in a
very sweet voice.

“Very much, that is, quite so, I think;” replied Mr. Bates,
the head book-keeper, who was quite bewildered at the sight
of such unusual visiters.

“Yes ladies, he is in his office;” promptly replied one of
the younger clerks.

“Can I see him?” asked the lady.

“Certainly madam,” responded the young clerk, and skipping
from his high stool, and giving a very sly wink to his
companions, he showed the two ladies into the private office,
and as he closed the door he put his hand to his breast, made
a mock theatrical bow and exclaimed “damme.” Upon which
every body laughed excepting Mr. Bates, who made it a point
of conscience never to laugh at a junior's jokes, although he
took it very hard if the juniors did not laugh at his.

The two partners were both busily engaged at their desks
when the ladies entered the private office, but Mr. Tremlett

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sat in a small recess behind a green silk curtain, so that they
could only see Mr. Tuck, who looked at them with very suspicious
glances.

“You are the head of the establishment, I believe?” said one
of the ladies enquiringly.

“Yes madam,” replied Mr. Tuck, at the same time doing
his best towards a bow. “Please be seated.”

There was a prodigious rustling of silks as the ladies sat
down, and after a moment's pause the one who had thus far
done all the talking, drew a little lemon-coloured pamphlet
from her reticule, and advancing to Mr. Tuck's desk put it
very gracefully into his hand.

“What, what, what is this?” exclaimed Mr. Tuck.

“It is our annual report, replied the spokeswoman, smiling
sweetly, and displaying a set of teeth so very white and beautiful
that Mr. Tuck could not help wondering in his mind
how much they cost.

“Report of what?” asked Mr. Tuck, who began to have a
lively presentiment of the object of the lady's visit, as he had
been honoured by similar calls before.

“The report of our transactions for the last year;” replied
the lady.

“O, yes, I see,” replied Tuck; “transactions in picking up
children; I suppose madam you have got none of your own,
or your would have no time to look after the public's?”

“O, yes, I have five of my own,” replied the lady, smiling
as sweetly as before, “and that is the very reason why I take
so great an interest in the poor little creatures who have nobody
to care for them.”

“It is better for them,” replied Mr. Tuck; “I never knew
what it was to be taken care of, except by myself, and I have
never found any difficulty in getting along in the world; I
find it is a mighty selfish world that we live in, and my motto
is, let every body take care of themselves and then every
body will be taken care of.” Mr. Tuck hoped by this original

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piece of philosophy to convince his visiters of the absurdity
of benevolence that they might leave his office without asking
him for anything. But ladies who go a begging for the benefit
of charitable institutions make up their minds before-hand
not to accept of sentiments in the place of shillings.

“Now I am sure,” said the lady, “that is one of the very
best arguments that you could have made in our favour; is
it not?” she said, turning to her companion, who also smiled
very sweetly behind her veil; and she thought so, decidedly.
“We are trying to collect a small sum of fifteen hundred dollars,”
continued the fair solicitor, “and we shall be very grateful
for the merest trifle. Your neighbors, Messrs. Dribletts and
Pickings gave us their check for fifty dollars; see, here it is;
they are very liberal, gentlemanly, kind hearted and Christian
merchants. We always publish the names of all our patrons
in the annual report of our transactions.”

But Mr. Tuck felt no ambitious promptings to be called
either kind-hearted or gentleman like, particularly at so high
a cost as fifty dollars. So, instead of drawing his check for
that magnificent sum he felt in his pantaloons pockets and
very graciously reached the lady a shilling; at the same time
he looked very hard at a dazzling cross which was suspended
upon her forehead by a fillet of pure gold, from which he
glanced to a very large and beautiful cameo locket with which
her satin cloak was fastened; and his eyes rested upon her
cobweb pocket handkerchief which was trimmed with costly
lace; and his cold glances seemed to say, `why was not all
this finery sold and the cost of it given to the poor for whom
you are begging?' And so the ladies probably interpreted his
looks. for the spokeswoman blushed deeply and the other lady
held her fan to her face and laughed genteelly. They whispered
together a few moments and the one who had before
remained silent approached Mr. Tuck's desk and said,

“We thought as you had evinced a compassionate disposition
in adopting one of our little reclained rogues that you

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would be glad to be numbered among the patrons of our institution,
or we would not have applied to you.”

“Me, madam!” exclaimed Mr. Tuck, “I never heard of the
operation before.”

“Are you not Mr. Tremlett, then?” inquired the lady.

“No,” replied Mr. Tuck, with increased astonishment.

“Then” replied the ladies, speaking together with a wonderful
coincidence of thought, “you are not the gentleman we
thought you were,” and making two very low courtesies, the
two benevolent ladies suddenly vanished, leaving behind them
a strong smell of Eau de Cologne.

“What on earth did them two female individuals mean?”
said Mr. Tuck, as he thrust his astonished countenance behind
the green curtain that screened his partner's desk.

Mr. Tremlett was trying very hard to look quite abstracted
and unconcerned, but Mr. Tuck saw at a glance that he was
guilty.

“I suppose their remark about the boy was intended for me,”
said Mr. Tremlett looking very meekly upon a sheet of blank
letter paper which lay before him.

Mr. Tuck, made no verbal comment upon this confession,
but he looked a very eloquent look at his partner.

“I met the boy by accident,” continued Mr. Tremlett “and I
thought I might do a worse thing than to adopt him and
give him a home and an education.”

“Is it possible” said Mr. Tuck, “and have you really done
it?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Tremlett, “I have taken him into my
house and I hope to make something of him.”

“Well, all I can say is,” said Mr. Tuck, “it is a strange world
we live in.” And having delivered himself of this original
remark, he left the office to go on Change where he related the
astounding events of the morning to several merchants of his
acquaintance, who made their own particular comments
accompanied by a good many mysterious winks. But

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it was a little singular that not one of them had the charity to
give Mr. Tremlett credit for the smallest scrap of benevolence
in adopting the boy, but on the contrary almost all of them
made remarks which the usages of society will not allow
us to put into print.

But the good old merchant felt very happy in his reflections
although he knew that his motives in adopting the boy would
be misrepresented, and his fame aspersed, yet he never once
repented of the act, but on the contrary felt a keen regret that
he should have been self-deprived of so great a pleasure so long.
He felt very strangely while the ladies were talking to his
partner, and as he foresaw at first that his secret must come
out, he had ample time to fortify himself against its development.
And now he felt more at his ease than he had done for
along time. A great load appeared to have been removed
from his breast, and he experienced a degree of satisfaction
and self contentment, that he had never known before. As
soon as Mr. Tuck had left the office he called in Mr. Bates, the
head book-keeper, to consult with him about a school for his
young charge, for Mr. Bates was the only married man, who
had children, in the employ of Tremlett and Tuck, and of
course he was the most fitting person to consult with on such
an occasion. Mr. Bates was completely thunderstruck and
entirely overcome at the nature of his employer's communication.
The secret was out. But he reserved all his notes of
exclamation for another occasion when it would be more
proper to indulge in them. As to a school he could not impart
any very satisfactory information, as his own children went
to the district school, but he would ask the opinion of Professor
Dobbins, his wife's brother, who was quite familiar with
every department of human knowledge, but particularly so
with education, as he had delivered lectures upon that subject.
Mr. Bates returned to his ledger considerably elevated in his
feelings at the signal mark of confidence which he had

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received from his employer; and when one of the younger
clerks asked him what the old fellow wanted, he intimated to
him in a fond style that such familiarities were quite offensive
and unbecoming. He always tried very hard to check anything
like freedom in any body, in any manner beneath him, whether
in age orstation; but somehow or other it so happened that all
his efforts had an effect directly opposite to what he intended
they should have, and nobody ever manifested any particular
dread in his presence excepting very small boys. Mr. Bates
rarely paid any attention to anybody who was either poorer
or younger than himself, but there was one person, who was
both, to whose judgment he submitted and whose commands
he obeyed with the meekest grace possible. This was no other
than his wife who was not only his better, but his larger half.
He was short and round-faced with two little sneaking black
whiskers on his face, which always seemed to have a retiring
look as though they were ashamed of themselves, and she was
tall and thin with long sandy coloured ringlets dangling down
her cheeks, and continually bobbing about as though they
cared for nothing and nobody. Mrs. Bates had the tact to discern
when she was first married, and perhaps sooner, that unless
she tyranized over her husband, he would certainly lord
it over her; and, of course, she followed the line of conduct
which spirited women do in such cases.

Mr. Bates very soon closed his ledger and hurried home to
tell his wife the news and ask her opinion about it.

“What do I think about it?” said Mrs. Bates, when her
husband had imparted the facts to her, “why I think he is a
wicked old wretch and I only wish I had the will of him.”

“Why the fact is,” said Mr. Bates, “I thought that something
must be wrong myself, I must confess.”

And here we are grieved to confess that Mr. Bates in this
assertion departed very widely from the truth, for he though
no such thing; he had known Mr. Tremlett too long an

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too well to believe, for a moment, that there was anything
wrong about the matter. And so he should have told Mrs.
Bates and have reproved her for her unworthy suspicions. But
this is the way with little minds; they will sooner join in aspersing
an absent friend than offend a present one by opposing
him. And these are the kind of people who pass through the
world as very good-natured souls. But it is a comfortable reflection
that such people will get their deserts in the next
world, if they do not in this.

“Men deserve hanging!” exclaimed Mrs. Bates, who seemed
to be apprehensive that her husband might think that she was
inclined to be too tender towards the rough sex, and was
positively anxious to counteract any such delusion. “They
are all wrong, and all bad.”

“Well I do believe dear,” said Mr. Bates in a conciliatory
tone, “that he is a very sly old fellow, after all; but I must
say, that is, I never knew anything to the contrary before,
but I have said, you know, dear, that he was a very nice sort
of an old gentleman.”

“And pray who is the mother of the boy? what is the
creature's name?” asked Mrs. Bates.

“I declare, dear, that is something I never inquired about;
and in fact he never said a word to me on the subject; and
it wouldn't have appeared well in me to speak of it first, you
know.”

“Just like you,” said Mrs. Bates, “you always do things
by the halves, you never was good for any thing.”

“Why the fact is, dear,” said Mr. Bates in a deprecating
tone, “It wouldn't have did for me to say anything about
that.”

“I know,” said the lady, “men are all alike.”

“Not all dear,” said Mr. Bates, “there's me you know.”

“Now don't provoke me,” said the lady, “don't.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Bates, “I didn't mean to provoke you,
dear.” “Get out of my sight,” said Mrs. Bates, “you

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baldheaded old thing and attend to your business, if you have got
any to attend to. For my part I must go and make some calls.
But stop, don't go until you have given me some money. I
must buy myself a shawl.”

Mr. Bates was almost determined to refuse the money, out
of revenge to his wife for calling him a bald-headed old thing.
If there had been any truth in the epithet he wouldn't have
cared so much about it. But to be called a bald-headed old
thing when there was only a small place on the crown of his
head not bigger than a dollar which was bare, was a little too
severe even for Mrs. Bates; and he had no sooner reached
her his pocket book than he repented of it and was almost
determined to snatch it back again. But he didn't; neither
did he make any audible or otherwise manifest expression of
his feelings, but for the sake of peace, as he persuaded himself,
he put on his hat and gloves and walked quietly back to his
duties; whilst Mrs. Bates put on hers and hastened with all
possible speed to Mr. Tremlett's house, where she inquired for
Mrs. Swazey, and that excellent housekeeper being at home,
the two ladies, after despatching a few unimportant matters,
such as the rise in calicoes and the qualities of Irish
servants, drew their chairs close together, and went to work
with a regular business-like manner, as though they were old
hands and understood perfectly well what they were about,
and began to tear the characters of the good Mr. Tremlett and
his innocent little protege into the veriest rags and tatters.
And were it not that a man must carry his character about
with him, to take its hue from the actions with which he
brings it in contact, the old merchant would have been in a
most pitiable condition indeed. For it would be a lesser
crime to take a man's coat than his character, although the latter
offence, the law, which is always on the wrong side of a
question, winks at, but punishes the thief with becoming
severity.

When the two ladies had entirely exhausted their subject

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they took an affectionate leave of each other, with a comforting
and mutual congratulation that some folks were not
quite so deep as they thought for; and that some people could
see quite as far in the dark as some other people.”

It does not often happen that when two ladies meet together
for the express purpose of scandalizing a third person,
that the result of their labours is beneficial to anybody, but
it so happened in this instance. For Mrs. Bates having convinced
Mrs. Swazey that Mr. Tremlett was moved by a stronger
principle than mere benevolence in adopting the boy, the feelings
of that discreet lady towards him underwent a complete
revolution, for she very naturally concluded that the surest
way of ingratiating herself into the good graces of her employer
would be to treat his favorite with kindness. And to do
the good lady justice, she was in reality glad of an excuse for
treating him with consideration; for he was every day winning
on her affections in spite of her animosity to him. And
Bridget, seeing that her superior in station, had changed her
mode of treatment, gave a loose rein to her feelings and whenever
the youngster came in her way she almost devoured him
with caresses.

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