WHILE THE present century was in its teens, and on one sunshinymorning in June, there drove up to the great iron gate of missPinkerton's academy for young ladies, on Chiswick mall, a largefamily coach, with two fat horses in blazing harness, driven by afat coachman in a three-cornered hat and wig, at the rate of fourmiles an hour. a black servant, who reposed on the box beside thefat coachman, uncurled his bandy legs as soon as the equipagedrew up opposite miss Pinkerton's shining brass plate, a