said I, “to telling me who made those little purses?”

“Gentlemen have often asked me that,” said Moodie slowly; “but I shake my head, and say little or nothing, and creep out of the way as well as I can. I am a man of few words; and if gentlemen were to be told one thing, they would be very apt, I suppose, to ask me another.

But it happens just now, Mr. Coverdale, that you can tell me more about the maker of those little purses than I can tell you.”

“Why do you trouble him with needless questions, Coverdale?” interrupted Hollingsworth. “You must have known, long ago, that it was Priscilla. And so, my good friend, you have come to see her? Well, I am glad of it. You will find her altered very much for