showed him that old thief, old Batters,
the proprietor of the Independent, and Potts, his infernal ally, driving in a
dogcart; and I said to him, Keppenheimer, I wish we had a place where we could
lock up some of our infernal radicals of the press, or that you could take off
those two villains to Spielberg; and as we were passin', that infernal Potts
burst out laughin' in my face, and cut one of my pointers over the head with his
whip. We must do something with that Independent, sir.«
    »We must,« says the father, solemnly; »we must put it down, Barnes - we must
put it down.«
    »I think,« says Barnes, »we had best give the railway advertisements to
Batters.«
    »But that makes the man of the Sentinel so angry,« says the elder persecutor
of the press.
    »Then let us give Tom Potts some shootin' at any rate; the ruffian is always
poaching about our covers as it is. Speers should be written to, sir, to keep a
look-out upon Batters and that villain his accomplice, and to be civil to them,
and that sort of thing; and, damn it! to be down upon them whenever he sees the
opportunity.«
    During the above conspiracy for bribing or crushing the independence of a
great organ of British opinion, Miss Ethel Newcome held her tongue; but when her
papa closed the conversation by announcing solemnly that he would communicate
with Speers, Ethel turning to her mother said, »Mamma, is it true that grandpapa
has a relation living at Newcome who is old and poor?«
    »My darling child, how on earth should I know?« says Lady Ann. »I dare say
Mr. Newcome had plenty of poor relations.«
    »I am sure some on your side, Ann, have been good enough to visit me at the
bank,« says Sir Brian, who thought his wife's ejaculation was a reflection upon
his family, whereas it was the statement of a simple fact in Natural History.
»This person was no relation of my father's at all. She was remotely connected
with his first wife, I believe. She acted as servant to him, and has been most
handsomely pensioned by the Colonel.«
    »Who went to her, like a kind, dear, good, brave uncle as he is,« cried
Ethel. »The very day I go to Newcome I'll go to see her.« She caught a look of