"My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. The first person who issued from the Lodge was Mr. —'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter. What is it?" "Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him with the craving of laughter. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs.
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