Chiswick Mall

           Whilethepresentcenturywasinitsteens,andononesunshinymorninginJune,theredroveuptothegreatirongateofMissPinkerton’sacademyforyoungladies,onChiswickMall,alargefamilycoach,withtwofathorsesinblazingharness,drivenbyafatcoachmaninathree-corneredhatandwig,attherateoffourmilesanhour.Ablackservant,whoreposedontheboxbesidethefatcoachman,uncurledhisbandylegsassoonastheequipagedrewupoppositeMissPinkerton’sshiningbrassplate,andashepulledthebellatleastascoreofyoungheadswereseenpeeringoutofthenarrowwindowsofthestatelyoldbrickhouse.Nay,theacuteobservermighthaverecognizedthelittlerednoseofgood-naturedMissJemimaPinkertonherself,risingoversomegeraniumpotsinthewindowofthatlady’sowndrawing-room.

           "ItisMrs.Sedley’scoach,sister,"saidMissJemima."Sambo,theblackservant,hasjustrungthebell;andthecoachmanhasanewredwaistcoat."

           "HaveyoucompletedallthenecessarypreparationsincidenttoMissSedley’sdeparture,MissJemima?"askedMissPinkertonherself,thatmajesticlady;theSemiramisofHammersmith,thefriendofDoctorJohnson,thecorrespondentofMrs.Chaponeherself.

           "Thegirlswereupatfourthismorning,packinghertrunks,sister,"repliedMissJemima;"wehavemadeherabow-pot."

           "Sayabouquet,sisterJemima,’tismoregenteel.

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