to their country seat, that the fertile brain of Mr. Jingles hit upon a happy thought.

"My dear Letitia," said Mr. Jingles, to his wife, "my name is not a very aristocratic one, and with sarcastic and ill-natured persons an attempt might be made to turn it and us into ridicule. To-morrow-yes, tomorrow, I'll go to the genealogists, as I have a slight impression that a correction might be made."

"'Tis a common but true observation, that there's something in a name," replied Mrs. Jingles. "I have repeatedly asked papa to spell his differently. He made some foolish objection as to the legality to doing so; you see 'tis one of his prejudices to drag law into all the thoughts and actions of his life. As if forsooth the mere orthography of his name could have anything to do with his interests -I mean by rendering it a little more uncommon and genteel. Why, Smith, the tallowchandler, who for half his life lived the very next door to us, and who has now retired and gone to the country, has altered his to Smythe; the Misses Brown, the butcher's daughters,

with whom I went to school, now always put an e to the end of their signature, notwithstanding their father stoutly protests against it, and declares he will not add the final letter; and the Taylors, of whom you often heard me speak, who have recently purchased a place in Hampshire, have changed theirs, and very properly, to Taylour. Surely if such folks as I have instanced are warranted in the introduction of more respectable notions, Papa, who is as wellknown in London as the statue at CharingCross, or Aldgate Pump, who, as every one says, ought to have sat on the woolsack and wore ermine, surely he is justified in the adoption of measures redounding to the higher standing and respectability of him and his!" concluded Mrs. Jingles, in more than wonted energy of tone.

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"Yes-yes, you are perfectly right, my dearest-perfectly right!" replied her husband; we are and we shall be different people from any Smiths, Browns, or Taylors, and shall occupy a very different position. Your father is a member of one of the

noblest of professions, speaking in a purely philanthropic point of view, a man of extensive learning, and as you have truly observed, of metropolitan importance-is known to every one. Any resolve that he might come to in the way of an orthographical alteration would be regarded very unlike the vulgar whims of the every-day persons you have mentioned. But pray what is the change you urged, my dearest Letitia?" said the incomparable Mr. Jingles, very vigorously.

"Well, my love," returned Mrs. Jingles, "I ruminated over the matter, and ultimately came to the decision that it might very consistently be spelt Clynchiere, which would look very neat and very genteel, and,” added she after a slight reflective pause, very uncommon,-indeed Frenchified."

"A most judicious and ingenious change, and thus, either in autograph or print it would equal the patronymic of any country squire in the county of I'll wager a rump and dozen on it," replied her husband, slapping his hand upon his thigh and jumping up from his chair.

“I'll teaze pa' into it, I'll pass my word I will, though I have never mooted the question since I left school, and then I recollect I had a long cry when on my return. home I told him how the girls had pestered me, and he would not change the spelling of it."

"Yes, in his weaker hour, when you have pleased him with the dance or the song, and when he, like Herod, is disposed to give you half his kingdom, sue for the favour," returned Jingles.

"I will-I will," said she, triumphantly. On the following morning Mr. Jingles fulfilled his promise, and paid his visit and fee to the genealogist. One huge and antiquated volume after another were lugged from the shelf, and rows of names carefully read over, but, unfortunately, by some unaccountable mistake, neither the names of Clincher or Jingles could be discovered. This was indeed an omission much to be lamented. To settle down as a county family without armorial bearings, the thing was absurd. What was to be done in this dilemma? Mr. Jingles

had stuck up the rampant lions as the guardians of the entrance gates, under some dreamy impressions that animals of a lionine nature symbolled his house. To take them down again, and substitute a couple of serpent-devouring griffins, wiverns, mailed militants, or any other fierce and fiery animals of earth or sky, would be but exposing the family to derison, and casting some doubts on their having any bearings at all. He appealed to the genealogist, and in supplication besought him to exert his most earnest endeavours in agreeably settling this matter, and, in departing words, sincerely hoped the lions might be kept up. He promised to call in a few days' time, after more hoary records and greater heraldic researches had been made. It is but truth to say that Mr. Jingles felt a little crest-fallen, and on returning to other arms—the arms of Letitia, the wife of his bosom, who failed not to note that a cloud sat on his brow-he did not, however, communicate the humiliating annoyance which had for a moment dashed his pride and restrained that vivacious hilarity