«I tell you, yes. Why, Gipps, I'd make an infinitely superior fellow to Frankenstein's comparative failure, out of materials indicated in the newspapers. I'd fit together the framework of a good-looking rascal in one morning, and set him going with hydrogen. A choice of pills to keep him in rude health, and Rowland's Macassar for his complexion. Advertise to be sure; and the first dish of Hyson poured forth by the delicate hand of the widow shall be mine. » Nothing better was to be done than to advertise. It was certain that hundreds did daily advertise; and they must get what they sought, or recourse would not so constantly be had to that method of proceeding. He decided upon advertising, and was mightily pleased that Simpson had suggested a widow. He was partial to widows. His mother had been a widow for several years before her death. He sighed. Would that the dear old lady had lived to conduct his establishment! And then, Mrs. Revell, the sister of Mr. Metcalfe, his opposite neighbour-she also was a widow, and a charming one. He sighed again. Advertise! « If, said Gipps, as he walked home, « Mrs. Revell would but consent to have me, (oh! that I dare-pop the question-I think they call it!) I'd see all the advertising at the-No, I wouldn't; for it shouldn't be long before I'd advertise in all the papers a certain union at St. George's, Hanover Square. » " That very evening Gipps paid for the insertion of an advertisement. He wanted a widow; and offered a comfortable home, and a very handsome stipend, to any lady of competent qualifications who might be disposed to accept them. CHAPTER III. The result. On the following day Gipps procured a copy of the newspaper, and after much difficulty succeeded in discovering his advertisement. What a close phalanx of applicants! He had never before remarked how many people there were diurnally wanting something or the other. Lodgings to be let, upon which the army of Cyrus might have been comfortably billetted-light porters enough to carry the Himalaya mountains, or the pyramids of Egypt-cooks sufficient to dress the edible contents of Noah's Ark ! «Lord bless me! said he, casting the newspaper from him; why, no widow will ever detect that narrow slip of a thing! She must be particularly in want of a situation, and possess a remarkably good sight, if she do. Well, a few shillings are of no great consequence. » Notwithstanding this natural doubt, Gipps was careful to inquire, when he returned home in the evening, whether any lady had called during his absence; not that he had any fair reason to suppose a lady would call, seeing that his advertisement directed the application should be made between nine and ten o'clock on the morning of the morrow; but he thought that had it met the eye of some anxious female, she might have stirred in the matter ere the specified time, and so distanced any precise adherent to punctuality. Nobody had called but the washerwoman, who had brought home the things she had omitted to bring on the Saturday night, and who, as Betty informed' her, had furnished him by mistake with two shirts and a night-cap marked « Gibbs. ་ If I had but a housekeeper,» said Gipps to himself, «these sad mistakes would not occur. » By the time he had risen and dressed himself on the following morning, he had well nigh abandoned all hope of securing his desiderata through the channel of public communication; and he swallowed his breakfast with considerable dissatisfaction. It was now, by Gipps's watch, (regulated by the Horse Guards,) precisely nine o'clock. The usual traffick incident to--Street, Strand, is by no means, and at no time, great. Was there not rather more bustle than ordinary in the street? Hark! There was a buzz, a hum beneath his window-a muffled sound of footsteps, succeeded by a kind of semi-silence-a congregational hush. What could it be?What did it mean? He would look out and satisfy himself as to the cause of this unusual stir. The sight that met his eyes! Ha! ha! ha! » For, as he shot from the window, his first impulse was to indulge (and he did so, as we have seen,) in a burst of vociferous laughter. which, however, after a prolonged gratification of it, partook considerably more of hysteria than of merriment. His advertisement had been answered by the myriad. There they were-their name being Legion-an array of candidates for the beneficial advantages propounded in his printed proposition-all eager for bed, board, and stipend-panting for the place-agog for a certainty. Never was such a posse of widows seen in this country since the battle of Hastings. There they stood-compact, unflinching, massive, conglomerated-Westminster widows-« lone women from Islington- comfortable bodies from the city-Radcliff Highway relicts! Now, the Lord have mercy on me!» cried the astounded Gipps. What human being, I should be glad to ask, could have foreseen this? » Mr. Gipps, I have before said, was a reserved, shy man. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that this portentous spectacle struck a panic into him that nearly divested him of the power of motion or of thought. The idea of selection from among so awful a multitude was preposterous-He could not do it. They must be got away-ordered to move onbesought to disperse, at all events. And now he heard Betty in the passage on the double-quick move, proceeding towards the door, whilst uprose the voice of Nat Salter,-a voice which he seemed striving to overtake as he blunderingly fscrambled up-stairs: «I say, Mr. Gipps-master! did you send sor this 'ere blessed lot o' women, as is blocking up the blesed street at our door? The cabmen can't get along, and the waterman's crying out shame on 'em." «I did not—no, I have no hesitation in saying I did not. Go down stairs, that's a good boy." But why are ye a-shaking in that 'ere manner, sir? » asked Nat. Bother the whole boiling on 'em, I says. " Go down stairs-now, that's a good lad, go down, and tell Betty--› Betty was already in conference elsewhere. The door had been opened, and a sturdy foot planted in the passage. Mr. Gipps, remonstrated a stout and well-to-do-looking woman of a certain age, «Mr. Gipps, whose name is on the door, wants a widow lady. Let me in. First come, first served, I say; and I was the first here, and she made a vigorous forward movement. not be, « Wants a widow? returned Betty. « Stuff!We want no widows here, nor wives either. Come, get away, all of ye-do. So saying, Betty put forth an adequate amount of physical power, and ejected the stout lady from the premises. A wild objurgatory shout rent the welkin. Gipps, who had taken his station on the first-floor landing, and was leaning on the balustrade, heard the inhuman outcry, and cramming his fingers into his ears, bethought him of the back-garret. There was a chimney in it. At that moment, he wished he had been made of soluble material, that he might have melted utterly away. « A respectable widow, who has seen better days, and has come a long distance, and won't take a denial, he ejaculated. She'll have me up before Sir Frederick for a hoax. » " They're a thickenin', cried Nat Salter, running out of the area, and bawling upwards, in a tone between exultation and amazement. ft Blest, Mr. Gipps, if all the iron railings ar'nt got a chin between 'em. Well, this bangs all I ever Such lots o' women I never did see!» see. Another assault upon the knocker. The door was at length opened. The power of association is mysterious. How was it (but so it was) that two lines of a popular melody should have entered the head of Gipps as so trying a moment? Hark! 'tis the Indian drum, They come-they come-they come!" He at once gave himself up for lost. Somebody was rushing up stairs. God bless my soul, Mr. Gipps! cried Mr. Metcalfe, his opposite neighbour, hurrying into the room wiping his fore head, what is the meaning of all this? Why is this mob of women, chiefly widows, at your door? » Gipps laid hands upon the newspaper, and placing his finger on the advertisement, thrust the journal into the face of his new companion. Look there! » « An advertisement for a widow lady!» cried Metcalfe. Well, my good sir, why don't you choose one with all despatch? These ladies are an obstruction to the passengers. Be quick! » « Mr. Metcalfe-my worthy neighbour," said Gipps solemnly, «I could no more see these widow ladies seriatim in this parlour, than I could select the best wife out of the eleven thousand virgins. Are there many still left? Are they not going?» Going? » cried Metcalfe, glancing out of the window; they never will go. Here's an ocean of 'em, and little knots standing at the corners of streets, looking on, waiting for their turn. » Gipps groaned; but a thought of a sudden scintillated from his brain, and then played lambently about it. "I'll tell 'em I 've got one. » Do," said Metcalfe. Gipps proceeded to the window, and raised the sash silently. He opened his mouth for speech, but the appalling vision before him was too much. There he stood, uttering no sound, but making the most outrageous variations of aspect. « No! d-it, that's too bad,» cried a ruffian, who had observed Gipps, (for the male sex had long ago joined the group:) here's a gentleman been advertising for a wife, and when they 've all come to be picked and chose, if he ain't poking his fun at 'em, I 'm blowed! » A burst of derisive laughter in grand chorus followed this sally. "It's of no use-they don't hear me,» said Gipps, appealing to Mr. Metcalfe. What in Heaven's name's to be done? What a terrible mob, to be sure! » Here, answered Metcalfe, handing him a large sheet of cartridge-paper, in which Sam Slick had been sent home a |