Barkis is J             jillin'. 
C. J. Staniland, Artist. 
 
 
p EGGOTTY having consented to become Mrs. Barkis, a quiet wed- 
         ding-party was organized. 
         Peggotty was dressed as usual, in her neat and quiet mourn- 
ing, but Mr. Barkis bloomed in a new blue coat, of which the tailor had 
given him such good measure, that the cuffs would have rendered gloves 
unnecessary in the coldest weather, while the collar was so high that it

pushed his hair up on end on top of his head. His bright buttons, too, 
were of the largest site. Rendered complete by drab pantaloons and a 
buff waistcoat, I thought Mr. Barkis a phenomenon of respe3ability. 
   When we were all in a bustle outside the door, Ifound that Mr. Peggotty

was prepared with an old shoe, which was to be thrown after us for luck,

and which he offered to Mrs. Gummidge for that purpose. 
   "No !   It had better be done by somebody else, Dan'l," said
Mrs. 
Gummidge. "I'm a lone lcrn creetur myself, and everything that reminds

me of creeturs that ain't lone and lorn goes contrairy with me." 
   But here Peggotty called out from the cart in which we were all by this

time (Em'ly and I on two little chairs, side by side) that Mrs. Gummidge

must do it. 
                              Charles Dickens' "David Copperfield."