“You ARE a Swidger, if ever there was one of the family!” “Dear!” said the old man, shaking his head as he again looked at the holly. “His mother — my son William’s my youngest son — and I, have sat among

Why, what with cousins, uncles, aunts, and relationships of this, that, and t’other degree, and whatnot degree, and marriages, and lyings-in, the Swidgers — Tumbler — might take hold of hands, and make