The Hegira is completed,--we have all taken roost in the old Tower. My father's books have arrived by the wagon, and have settled themselves quietly in their new abode,--filling up the apartment dedicated to their owner, including the bed chamber and two lobbies. The duck also has arrived, under wing of Mrs. Primmins, and has reconciled herself to the old stewpond, by the side of which my father has found a walk that compensates for the peach-wall, especially as he has made acquaintance with sundry respectable carps, who permit him to feed them after he has fed the duck,--a privilege of which (since, if any one else approaches, the carps are off in an instant) my father is naturally vain. …
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