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"Perhaps a shipwrecked seaman may hereafter receive help and kind treatment from Jemmy Button's children, prompted, as they can hardly fail to be, by the traditions they will have heard of men of other lands, and by the idea, however faint, of their duty to God, as well as to their neighbours." The hopeful prediction has borne good fruit, even sooner than Captain Fitzroy looked for.

"Because," answers the young Englishman, "they are Jemmy Button's people, and I'd be loth to believe him ungrateful after our experience with his old companions, and from what I remember of him. What do you think, Ned?" "I agree with you entirely," replied the younger Gancy. "Wal, young masters, thet may all be, an' I'd be only too pleased to be-hope it'll turn out so.

It crosses the southern part of Tierra del Fuego in an east and west line, and in the middle is joined at right angles on the south side by an irregular channel, which has been called Ponsonby Sound. This is the residence of Jemmy Button's tribe and family. Three whale-boats and the yawl, with a party of twenty-eight, started under the command of Captain Fitz Roy.

For Addison to remove his patronage from Will's to Button's meant the transference of the allegiance of the wits of the town also, consequently it soon became known that the wits were gone from the haunt of Dryden to the new resort affected by Addison. And a close scrutiny of the pages of the Guardian will reveal how adroitly Steele aided Addison's plan.

"Stables going yet? Why, I thought it must be supper time. Colonel sent me ahead to find him. Three of 'E' Troop horses act like they'd been eating loco-weed. That's what kept us." "Colonel Button's always findin' some way of sendin' you in ahaid, Marse Lanier," grinned Chloe. "Ah don't wonder dey says you can do anything you like an' never get hauled up for it."

Tavistock-street was then, we believe, the Bond-street of the fashionable world; as Bow-street was before. The change of Bow-street from fashion to the police, with the theatre still in attendance, reminds one of the spirit of the Beggar's Opera. Button's Coffee-house, the resort of the wits of Queen's Anne's time, was in Russell-street we believe, near where the Hummums now stand.

There was nothing for Benjamin to do but follow with as much dignity as possible meanwhile promising himself a stern revenge. But this revenge did not materialise. Two days later, however, his son Roscoe materialised from Baltimore, hot and cross from a hasty trip, and escorted the weeping general, sans uniform, back to his home. In 1920 Roscoe Button's first child was born.

With one or other of these he always breakfasted. He studied all morning; then dined at a tavern; and went afterwards to Button's. Button had been a servant in the Countess of Warwick's family, who, under the patronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Russell Street, about two doors from Covent Garden. Here it was that the wits of that time used to assemble.

Out of these the landlord made a good penny, as he charged an extensive percentage upon the original cost, that is, to strangers; but if you were in Button's confidence, then was there no better fellow to intrust with a negotiation for a pair of snow-shoes, or moose-horns, or anything else in that line of business.

The recollection came to him all at once, as he was walking up the strand towards the wigwam, that he had left the dinghy tied to the reef. The dinghy was, as a matter of fact, safe and sound tied to the aoa; but Mr Button's memory told him it was tied to the reef.