Brother and Sister
MAGGIE was obliged to go to Toms lodgings in the middle of the day, when he would be ing in to dinner, else she would not have found him at home. He was not lodging with erangers. Our friend Bob Jakin had, with Mumpss tacit sent, taken not only a wife about eight months ago, but also one of those queer old houses pierced with surprising passages, by the water-side, where, as he observed, his wife and mother could keep themselves out of mischief by letting out two `pleasure-boats in which he had ied some of his savings, and by taking a lodger for the parlour and spare bedroom. Uhese circumstances, what could be better for the is of all parties, sanitary siderations apart, than that the lodger should be Mr Tom? It was Bobs wife who opehe door to Maggie. She was a tiny woman, with the general physiognomy of a Dutch doll, looking, in parison with Bobs mother who filled up the passage in the rear, very much like one of those human figures which the artist finds vely standing near a colossal statue to show the proportions. The tiny woman curtsied and looked up at Maggie with some awe as soon as she had opehe door; but the words, `Is my brother at home? which Maggie uttered smilingly, made her turn round with suddeement and say,
`Eh, mother, mother - tell Bob! - its Miss Maggie! e in, Miss, foodness do, she went on, opening a side door, and endeav to flatten her person against the wall to make the utmost space for the visitor.
Sad recolles crowded on Maggie as she ehe small parlour, which was now all that poor Tom had to call by the name of `home - that name which had once, so many years ago, meant for both of them the same sum of dear familiar objects. But everything was not strao her in this new room: the first thing her eyes dwelt on was the large old Bible, and the sight was not likely to disperse the old memories. She stood without speaking.
`If you please to take the privilege o sitting down, Miss, said Mrs Jakin, rubbing her apron over a perfectly chair, and then lifting up the er of that garment and holding it to her face with an air of embarrassment, as she looked wly at Maggie.
`Bob is at home, then? said Maggie, rec herself, and smiling at the bashful Dutch doll.
`Yes, Miss; but I think he must be washing and dressing himself - Ill go and see, said Mrs Jakin, disappearing.
But she presently came back walking with new ce a little way behind her husband, who showed the brilliancy of his blue eyes and regular white teeth in the doorway, bowing respectfully.
`How do you do, Bob? said Maggie, ing forward and putting out her hand to him. `I always meant to pay your wife a visit, and I shall e another day on purpose for that, if she will let me. But I was obliged to e today, to speak to my brother.
`Hell be in before long, Miss. Hes doin finely, Mr Tom is: hell be ohe fust men hereabouts - youll see that.
`Well, Bob, Im sure hell be ied to you, whatever he bees: he said so himself only the ht, when he was talking of you.
`Eh, Miss, thats his way o takin it. But I think the more ont when he says a thing, because his tongue doesnt over- shoot him as mine does. Lors! Im er nor a tilted bottle I arnt - I t stop mysen when once I begin. But you look rarely, Miss - it does me good to see you. What do you say now, Prissy? - here Bob turo his wife. `Isnt it all e true as I said? Though there isnt many sorts ogoods as I t over-praise when I set my too t.