Tuesday, June 19.—We were scarcely all arranged at tea when Colonel Manners eagerly said, “Pray, Mrs. Schwellenberg, have you lost anything?”
“Me?—no, not I
“No?—what, nothing?”
“Not I!”
“Well, then, that’s very odd! for I found something that had your name writ upon it.”
“My name? and where did you find that?”
“Why—it was something I found in my bed.”
“In your bed?—O, very well! that is reelly comeecal?”
“And pray what was it?” cried Miss Port.
“Why—a great large, clumsy lump of leather.”