pulled down, and some area-railings had been torn up, to arm the

more belligerent spirits, a rumour got about that the Guards were

coming. Before the rumour, the crowd gradually melted away, and

perhaps the Guards came, and perhaps they never came, and this

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was the usual progress of a mob.

Mr. Cruncher did not assist at the closing sports, but had

remained behind in the churchyard, to confer and condole with

the undertakers. The place had a soothing influence on him. He

procured a pipe from a neighbouring public-house, and smoked it,

looking in at the railings and maturely considering the spot.

“Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, apostrophising himself his usual

way, “you see that there Cly that day, and you see with your own

eyes that he was a young ’un and a straight made ’un.”

Having smoked his pipe out, and ruminated a little longer, he

turned himself about, that he might appear before the hour of

closing, on his station at Tellson’s. Whether his meditations on

morality had touched his liver, or whether his general health had

been previously at all amiss, or whether he desired to show a little

attention to an eminent man, is not so much to the purpose, as

that he made a short call upon his medical advisera

distinguished surgeonon his way back.

Young Jerry relieved his father with dutiful int