BUSY BESSIE. 123

thought just now, it was your intention to be a
soldier, by your being so ready to fight other
people’s battles.

Howard.—I have not yet chosen my pro-
fession.

George.—I thought you was a gentleman of
fortune, who had no need to follow any pro-
fession.

Howard.—You happen to be mistaken. ,

George.—I don’t mean to bother myself in
that way. I despise a mercantile life—hate a
profession—wouldn’t wear out my brains with
law, nor be good enough for a parson, for all
the world. I mean to enjoy myself as a
gentleman of leisure—old Gub is rich as
Croesus.

All this time George had been looking
through the spy-glass, without once offering it
to Howard. “I can’t think what those crea-
tures over there are doing,” said he. “I wish
you would try to find out.”

Howard took the glass, and after a moment’s
observation, replied, “ they have got the ground
marked out for a house, and are setting four