18 DOGGED JACK.

"I'll put you up a bit of cold plum-pudding, you'll
like that, Master Jack."
 I don't care for anything," Jack answered, waiting,
 however, as requested, and his gloomy face clearing
 a little at the sight of his favourite delicacy.
 After breakfast Mr. Gilbert sent Polly upstairs,
 contrary to his usual habit, and then sat down to
 write some letters.
 These were all directed to divers public schools,
 and when at last they were sealed, the father pushed
 them from him with a sigh, and muttered half aloud-
 I shall miss him, I shall miss him,-my boy that
 was to have been such a comfort to me; but he grows
 worse every day; there's nothing for him but the
 severity of school life."
 When his occupation was over, he rang the bell
 and desired a servant to send for Miss Polly.
 Downstairs bounded that young lady, and in an-
other moment she was perched on her father's knee,
and stroking his cheek.
 "What did you want to get rid of me for, daddy ?
what have you been doing ?"
 "Writing letters, Miss Inquisitiveness," answered
Mr. Gilbert, pinching her chin as he spoke.
 "Writing letters, daddy!" said the child quickly,
looking at her father with some suspicion. "Nothing
about Jack, I suppose ?"