Vanity Fair

wick

hree-cornered hat and wig, at the rate of four miles an hour. A black servant, who reposed on the box beside the fat coachman, uncurled his bandy legs as soon as the equipage drew up opposite Miss Pinkerton's shining brass plate, and as he pulled the bell at least a score of

mima. "Sambo, the black servant, has just rung th

re, Miss Jemima?" asked Miss Pinkerton herself, that majestic lady; the Semiramis of

packing her trunks, sister," replied Mi

sister Jemima, '

t up two bottles of the gillyflower water for Mrs. Se

, is it? Very good-ninety-three pounds, four shillings. Be kind enough to address it

establishment, or when they were about to be married, and once, when poor Miss Birch died of the scarlet fever, was Miss Pinkerton known to write personally to the parents of her pupils;

ss Pinkerton's "billet" wa

Chiswick,

on in their polished and refined circle. Those virtues which characterize the young English gentlewoman, those accomplishments which become her birth and station, will not be found wantin

hes. In geography there is still much to be desired; and a careful and undeviating use of the backboard, for four hours daily during the next th

e presence of THE GREAT LEXICOGRAPHER, and the patronage of the admirable Mrs. Chapone. In leaving the Mall, Miss Amelia carri

liged humble servan

rp's stay in Russell Square may not exceed ten days. The family of distinction with

her scholars, on their departure from the Mall. On the cover was inserted a copy of "Lines addressed to a young lady on quitting Miss Pinkerton's school, at the Mall; by the late revere

tracted two copies of the book from the receptacle in question. When Miss Pinkerton had finished

Jemima?" said Miss Pinke

nd blushing over her withered face and neck, as she turned

itals. "Are you in your senses? Replace the Dixonary in the

ninepence, and poor Becky will be

ton. And so venturing not to say another word, poor

s Sharp was an articled pupil, for whom Miss Pinkerton had done, as she thought, q

arent, child, wife, or husband; who actually DOES leave a disconsolate family to mourn his loss; so in academies of the male and female sex it occurs every now and then that the pupil is fully worthy of the praises bestowed by the disinterested instructor. Now, Miss Amelia

ever spoke ill of her; high and mighty Miss Saltire (Lord Dexter's granddaughter) allowed that her figure was genteel; and as for Miss Swartz, the rich woolly-haired mulatto from St. Kitt's, on the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion of tears that they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half tipsify her with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment was, as may be supposed from the high position and eminent virtues of that lady, calm and dignified; but Miss Jemima had already whimpered several times at the idea of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her

as rather short than otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for a heroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which sparkled with the brightest and honestest good-humour, except indeed when they filled with tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thing would cry over a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haply had seized upon; or over the

of Dexter," said Miss Saltire (who, by the way, was rather shabby). "Never mind the postage, but write every day, you dear darling," said the impetuous and woolly-headed, but generous and affectionate Miss Swartz; and the orphan little Laura Martin (who was just in round-hand), took her friend's hand and said, looking up in her face wistfully, "Amelia, when I write to you I shall call you Mamma." All which details, I have no doubt, JONES, who reads this book

-the hour for parting came; and the grief of that moment was considerably lessened by the admirable discourse which Miss Pinkerton addressed to her pupil. Not that the parting speech caused Amelia to philosophise, or that it armed her in any way with a calmness, the result of argument; but it was intolerably dull, pompous, and tedious; and having t

said Miss Jemima to a young lady of whom nobody took any

ng knocked at the door, and receiving permission to come in, Miss Sharp advanced in a very unconcerned

the top of which figured a large and solemn turban), she said, "Miss Sharp, I wish you a good morning." As the Hammersmith Semiramis spoke, she wave

n ever. In fact, it was a little battle between the young lady and the old one, and the latter was worsted. "Heaven bless you, my child," said she, embracing Amelia, and scowling the

there was such a scuffling, and hugging, and kissing, and crying, with the hysterical YOOPS of Miss Swartz, the parlour-boarder, from her room, as no pen can depict, and as the tender heart woul

oung weeping mistress. He sprang up behind the carriage. "

ecky, Becky Sharp, here's a book for you that my sister-that is, I-Johnson's Dixonary, y

etreated into the garde

Sharp put her pale face out of the window and

ented her from completing either sentence. The carriage rolled away; the great gates were closed; the bel