you'd think it was axing Father Giles to sleep along | I doubt whether in any village in England, had such with the likes of him we were. And there's two beds in the room as dacent as any Christian iyer stretched in." an accident happened to the rector, all the people would have roused themselves at midnight to wreak their vengeance on the assailant. For vengeance they were now beginning to clamor, and even before the sergeant of police had come the two sub-constables were standing over me; and I felt that they were protecting me from the people in order that they might give me 'up-to the gallows! It was a new light to me. And yet I had known over night, before I undressed, that there were two bedsteads in the room! I had seen them, and had quite forgotten the fact in my confusion when I was woken. I had been very stupid, certainly. I felt that now. But I had truly believed that that big I did not like the Ballymoy doctor at all, then, man was going to get into my little bed. It was or even at a later period of my visit to that town. terrible as I thought of it now. The good-natured On his arrival he made his way up to the priest priest, for the sake of accommodating a stranger, through the crowd, and would not satisfy their had consented to give up half of his room, and had affection or my anxiety by declaring at once that been repaid for his kindness by being-perhaps there was no danger. Instead of doing so he inmurdered! And yet, though just then I hated my-sisted on the terrible nature of the outrage and the self cordially, I could not quite bring myself to look brutality shown by the assailant. And at every at the matter as they looked at it. There were ex- hard word he said, Mrs. Kirwan would urge him on. cuses to be made, if only I could get any one to "That's thrue for you, doctor!” “ 'Deed, and you listen to them. may say that, doctor;- two as good beds as ever Christian stretched in!" "'Deed, and it was just Father Giles's own room, as you may say, since the big storm fetched the roof off his riverence's house below there." Thus gradually I was learning the whole history. The roof had blown off Father Giles's own house, and therefore he had gone to lodge at the inn! He had been willing to share his lodging with a stranger; and this had been his reward! "He was using my brush, my clothes-brush, indeed he was," I said. "Not but what he 'd be welcome; but it made me think he was an intruder." "And was n't it too much honor for the likes of ye?" said one of the women, with infinite scorn in the tone of her voice. "I did use the gentleman's clothes-brush, certainly," said the priest. They were the first collected words he had spoken, and I felt very grateful to him for them. It seemed to me that a man who could condescend to remember that he had used a clothesbrush, could not really be hurt to death, even though he had been pushed down such very steep stairs as those belonging to Pat Kirwan's hotel. "And I'm sure you were very welcome, sir," said I. "It was n't that I minded the clothes-brush. It was n't indeed; only I thought, — indeed, I did think that there was only one bed. And they put me into the room, and had not said anything about anybody else. And what was I to think when I woke up in the middle of the night?" "Faix, and you'll have enough to think of in Galway jail, for that's where you're going to," said one of the bystanders. "I hope, doctor, that the gentleman is not much hurt," said I, very meekly. "Do you suppose a gentleman like that, sir, can be thrown down a long flight of stairs without being hurt?" said the doctor, in an angry voice. "It is no thanks to you, sir, that his neck has not been sacrificed." Then there arose a hum of indignation, and the two policemen standing over me bustled about a little, coming very close to me, as though they thought they would have something to do to protect me from being torn to pieces. I bethought me that it was my special duty in such a crisis to show a spirit, if it were only for the honor of my Saxon blood among the Celts. So I spoke up again, as loud as I could well speak. "Very seriously hurt indeed," said the doctor; “ very seriously hurt. The vertebræ may have been injured for aught I know at present." I can hardly explain the bitterness that was displayed against me. No violence was absolutely "No one in this room is more distressed at what shown to me, but I could not move without eliciting has occurred than I am. I am most anxious to a manifest determination that I was not to be al-know, for the gentleman's sake, whether he has been lowed to stir out of the room. Red angry eyes seriously hurt?" were glowering at me, and every word I spoke called down some expression of scorn and ill-will. I was beginning to feel glad that the police were coming, thinking that I needed protection. I was thoroughly ashamed of what I had done, and yet I could not discover that I had been very wrong at any particular moment. Let any man ask himself the question, what he would do, if he supposed that a stout old gentleman had entered his room at an inn and insisted on getting into his bed? It was not my fault that there was no proper landing-place at the top of the stairs. Two sub-constables had been in the room for some time before the sergeant came, and with the sergeant arrived also the doctor, and another priest, -Father Columb he was called,-who, as I afterwards learned, was curate, or coadjutor, to Father Giles. By this time there was quite a crowd in the house, although it was past one o'clock, and it seemed that all Ballymoy knew that its priest had been foully misused. It was manifest to me that there was something in the Roman Catholic religion which made the priests very dear to the people; for "Arrah, blazes, man," said a voice, which I learned afterwards had belonged to an officer of the revenue corps of men which was then stationed at Ballymoy, a gentleman with whom I became afterwards familiarly acquainted; Tom Macdermot was his name, Captain Tom Macdermot, and he came from the county of Leitrim, -" Arrah, blazes, man; do ye think a gentleman's to fall sthrait headlong backwards down such a ladder as that, and not find it inconvanient? Only that he 's the priest, and has had his own luck, sorrow a neck belonging to him there would be this minute." "Be aisy, Tom," said Father Giles himself, and I was delighted to hear him speak. Then there was a pause for a moment. "Tell the gentleman I ain't so bad at all," said the priest; and from that moment I felt an affection to him which never afterwards waned. They got him up stairs back into the room from which he had been evicted, and I was carried off to of his neck is as black as your hat with the bruises, and it's the same way with him all down his loins. A man like that, you know, not just as young as he was once, falls mortial heavy. But he's as jolly as a four-year-old," said Captain Tom," and you're to go and ate your breakfast with him, in his bedroom, so that you may see with your own eyes that there are two beds there." the police station, where I positively spent the night. What a night it was! I had come direct from London, sleeping on my road but once, in Dublin, and now I found myself accommodated with a stretcher in the police barracks at Ballymoy! And the worst of it was that I had business to do at Ballymoy which required that I should hold up my head and make much of myself. The few words which had been spoken by the priest had comforted me, and "I remembered it afterwards quite well," said I. had enabled me to think again of my own position. "Deed and Father Giles got such a kick of laughWhy was I locked up? No magistrate had com- ter this morning, when he came to understand that mitted me. It was really a question whether I had you thought he was going to get into bed alongside done anything illegal. As that man whom Father of you, that he strained himself all over again, and Giles called Tom had very properly explained, if I thought he'd have frightened the house, yelling people will have ladders instead of staircases in their with the pain. But anyway you've to go over houses, how is anybody to put an intruder out of and see him. So now you'd better get yourself the room without risk of breaking the intruder's dressed." neck. And as to the fact, -now an undoubted fact, that Father Giles was no intruder, the fault in that lay with the Kirwans, who had told me nothing of the truth. The boards of the stretcher in the police station were very hard, in spite of the blankets with which I had been furnished; and, as I lay there, I began to remind myself that there certainly must be law in county Galway. So I called to the attendant policeman and asked him by whose authority I was locked up. "Ah, thin, don't bother," said the policeman; "shure, and you've given throuble enough this night!" The dawn was at that moment breaking, so I turned myself on the stretcher, and resolved that I would put a bold face on it all when the day should come. The first person I saw in the morning was Captain Tom, who came into the room where I was lying, followed by a little boy with my portmanteau. The sub-inspector of police who ruled over the men at Ballymoy lived, as I afterwards learned, at Oranmore, so that I had not, at this conjuncture, the honor of seeing him. Captain Tom assured me that he was an excellent fellow, and rode to hounds like a bird. As in those days I rode to hounds myself, as nearly like a bird as I was able, I was glad to have such an account of my head jailer. The sub-constables seemed to do just what Captain Tom told them, and there was, no doubt, a very good understanding between the police force and the revenue officer. Well, now, I'll tell you what you must do, Mr. Green," said the Captain. "In the first place," said I, "I must protest that I'm now locked up here illegally." "O, bother; now don't make yourself unaisy." "That's all very well, Captain I beg your pardon, sir, but I did n't catch any name plainly except the Christian name." - I was This announcement was certainly very pleasant. Against Father Giles, of course, I had no feeling of bitterness. He had behaved well throughout, and I was quite alive to the fact that the light of his countenance would afford me a better ægis against the ill-will of the people of Ballymoy than anything the law would do for me. So I dressed myself in the barrack-room, while Captain Tom waited without; and then I sallied out under his guidance to make a second visit to Pat Kirwan's hotel. amused to see that the police, though by no means subject to Captain Tom's orders, let me go without the least difficulty, and that the boy was allowed to carry my portmanteau back again. "O, it's all right," said Captain Tom, when I alluded to this. You're not down in the sheet. You were only there for protection, you know." Nevertheless, I had been taken there by force, and had been locked up by force. If, however, they were disposed to forget all that, so was I. I did not return to the barracks again; and when, after that, the policemen whom I had known met me in the street, they always accosted me as though I were an old friend; hoping my honor had found a better bed than when they last saw me. They had not looked at me with any friendship in their eyes when they had stood over me in Pat Kirwan's parlor. 66 This was my first view of Ballymoy, and of the "hotel" by daylight. I now saw that Mrs. Pat Kirwan kept a grocery establishment, and that the three-cornered house which had so astonished me was very small. Had I seen it before I entered it I should hardly have dared to look there for a night's lodging. As it was, I stayed there for a fortnight, and was by no means uncomfortable. Knots of men and women were now standing in groups round the door, and, indeed, the lower end of the street was almost crowded. "They 're all here," whispered Captain Tom, "My name is Macdermot, Tom Macdermot."because they 've heard how Father Giles has been They call me Captain, but that's neither here nor there." "And where would you have been if they had n't locked you up? I'm blessed if they would n't have had you into the Lough before this time." There might be something in that, and I therefore resolved to forgive the personal indignity which I had suffered, if I could secure something like just treatment for the future. Captain Tom had already told me that Father Giles was doing pretty well. "He's as sthrong as a horse, you see, or, sorrow a doubt, he'd be a dead man this minute. The back murdhered during the night by a terrible Saxon; and there is n't a man or woman among them who does n't know that you are the man who did it." "But they know also, I suppose," said I, “that Father Giles is alive." “Bedad, yes they know that, or I would n't be in your skin, my boy. But come along. We must n't keep the priest waiting for his breakfast." I could see that they all looked at me, and there were some of them, especially among the women, whose looks I did not even yet like. They spoke among each other in Gaelic, and I could perceive they were talking of me. "Can't you understand, then," said Captain Tom, speaking to them aloud, just as he entered the house, "that Father Giles, the Lord be Saturday praised, is as well as ever he was in his life? it was only an accident.” Shure "An accident done on purpose, Captain Tom," said one person. "What is it to you how it was done, Mick Healy? If Father Giles is satisfied, is n't that enough for the likes of you? Get out of that, and let the gentleman pass." Then Captain Tom pushed Mick away roughly, and the others let us enter the house. "Only they would n't do it unless somebody gave them the wink, they'd pull you in pieces this moment for a dandy of punch, they would indeed." Perhaps Captain Tom exaggerated the prevailing feeling, thinking thereby to raise the value of his own service in protecting me; but I was quite alive to the fact that I had done a most dangerous deed, and had a most narrow escape. I found Father Giles sitting up in his bed, while Mrs. Kirwan was rubbing his shoulder diligently with an embrocation of arnica. The girl was standing by with a basin half full of the same, and I could see that the priest's neck and shoulders were as red as a raw beefsteak. He winced grievously under the rubbing, but he bore it like a man. "And here comes the hero," said Father Giles. "Now stop a minute or two, Mrs. Kirwan, while we have a mouthful of breakfast, for I'll go bail that Mr. Green is hungry after his night's rest. I hope you got a better bed, Mr. Green, than the one I found you in when I was unfortunate enough to waken you last night. There it is, all ready for you still," said he, "and if you accept of it to-night, take my advice and don't let a trifle stand in the way of your dhraims." "I hope, thin, the gintleman will conthrive to suit hisself elsewhere," said Mrs. Kirwan. "He'll be very welcome to take up his quarters here if he likes," said the priest. "And why not? But, bedad, sir, you'd better be a little more careful the next time you see a sthranger using your clothesbrush. They are not so strict here in their ideas of meum and tuum as they are perhaps in England; and if you'd broken my neck for so small an offence, I don't know but what they'd have stretched your own." The subject to which we have now to call the attention of our readers is very painful, not only on account of the numerous sufferers themselves, but also by reason of the prolonged anxieties, uncertainties, and suspense which have been endured by their relatives in this country. The facts are these:In June, 1855, a ship called the St. Abbs, while on a voyage from London to Bombay, struck on the island of San Juan de Nuova, off the eastern coast of Africa. In attempting to launch them, all the boats except one were swamped. The remaining boat was taken by the captain and two of the crew, who landed on the island, where they were afterwards joined by one of the passengers, who swam ashore (another being drowned in the attempt), and by two others of the crew. The remainder of the crew, numbering, with four young cadet passengers, twenty-six in all, continued on board the dismasted ship, which, after hanging on the reef for two days, disappeared in the course of one night, and was reported by the survivors on the island to have broken up. It afterwards, however, became known that the hull of the St. Abbs had not gone to pieces on the island of San Juan de Nuova, but had been swept off by the current and had drifted to the coast of Africa near Magdesho, where she was boarded by the natives, who possessed themselves of everything on the wreck. A great many articles known to have been on board the St. Abbs were afterwards brought to Zanzibar and disposed of by natives of Magdesho. The St. Abbs was taking out government stores, and among the articles brought for sale were light infantry bugles, cases of surgical instruments, &c., all containing the government mark, also boxes of books, ivory billiard balls (the St. Abbs was taking out several billiard-tables), surveying instruments, officers' epaulettes, &c. As the wreck occurred at the season when vessels all go north from the east coast of Africa, most of the articles recovered were conveyed to the Red Sea and Persian Gulf to be disposed of, and only those articles for which there was no sale in native markets were brought to Zanzibar to be disposed of among the European residents. No cause for doubting that those on board We then had breakfast together, Father Giles, the vessel had perished with her was entertained Captain Tom, and I, and a very good breakfast we until four years later, when reports reached Ceylon had. By degrees even Mrs. Kirwan was induced to and the Mauritius that a number of Englishmen look favorably at me, and before the day was over were in captivity somewhere on the east coast of I found myself to be regarded as a friend in the es- Africa. Colonel Rigby, who was then consul at tablishment. And as a friend I certainly was re- Zanzibar, instituted inquiries which convinced him garded by Father Giles, then, and for many a that the hull of the St. Abbs had been driven ashore long day afterwards. And many times when he has, near Magdesho, and the persons on board had been in years since that, but years nevertheless which are captured by the Abghal Somalis and carried into now long back, come over and visited me in my the interior. Colonel Rigby learnt that a caravan English home, he has told the story of the manner of pilgrims to Mecca from Magdesho had seen sevin which we first became acquainted. "When you eral white prisoners at one place; but upon arrivfind a gentleman asleep," he would say, "always asking at Jeddah the pilgrims found that the British his leave before you take a liberty with his clothesbrush." ENGLISH CAPTIVES IN AFRICA. A PAINFUL interest has lately been excited by the publication of narratives which warrant a belief that a number of Englishmen have been for more than ten years past, and probably some of them still are, held as captives by the barbarous native tribes of Eastern Africa, whose cruelty and treachery were exemplified in the murder of the Belgian traveller, Baron Von der Decken, who a few months since met his death at the hands of the Somali tribe. consul and all the Christians had been murdered, so that there was no means of forwarding intelligence to Europe; but they mentioned the circumstances to pilgrims from Ceylon and the Mauritius, through whom they were made known to the British authorities. The governor of the Mauritius issued a proclamation in various languages offering a reward of one hundred pounds for each white prisoner who should be restored, and a native of Magdesho, who had himself been on board the wrecked ship, incited by the reward, started for the interior; but was stopped and imprisoned at Lamoo. This circumstance is with great force urged by those interested in the subject as strong evidence of the truth of the statement that white men were ac- | India Office, but Brigadier Coglan, the agent at tually kept prisoners in the interior. From infor- Aden, wrote in May, 1862, that in his opinion it was mation obtained by Colonel Rigby at Zanzibar highly improbable that any of the persons on board there appears no doubt that the survivors of the St. the St. Abbs had lived to reach the shore. Against Abbs were divided into two parties, one of which that opinion, however, there is the evidence of nawas taken a long distance into the interior, and the tives who had themselves seen and who had heard other, consisting of three persons, was kept by the of white prisoners among the Somalis, and the stateAbghal tribe of Somalis, not far from Magdesho. ments made by different persons at different places, Attention has recently been called to this subject all tending to the same point. There is the evifrom the circumstance that a bullock's hide brought dence of articles having been seen in the possession from Magdesho to Zanzibar, which had been pur- of and received from natives, which articles are chased from a caravan of Somalis, just arrived from proved to have been on board the St. Abbs, and the the interior, was found to have several English let- hides marked with English characters which have ters carved on it. The man who had purchased the recently come to light. From all these circumhide put it aside, and on his arrival at Zanzibar stances there appears no room to doubt but that took it to Messrs. Oswald and Sons, who gave it to some white men were, and probably are, held in Colonel Playfair, the British consul. He further captivity by the savage tribes of the eastern coast stated that he had seen other hides with letters cut of Africa; and whether those unhappy persons be on them. Those letters were, no doubt, carved by or be not the survivors of the St. Abbs, it is equally one of the captives, perhaps in the faint hope of a national duty to employ every effort to obtain their meeting the eye of some European. Colonel their release, or to put an end to the prolonged susRigby, who recently read a most interesting paper pense of their relatives in England. upon the subject before the Royal Geographical Society, states that the part of Africa inhabited by these Somali tribes is very salubrious and fertile. The natives possess large herds of cattle and the hides are brought to Zanzibar for sale. There is communication with this part of Africa from Zeyla and Berbera on the Gulf of Aden. The Oghaden caravan to the great annual fair at Berbera traverses a great part of the country to the banks of the great river called the Wabbe Shabeli, which flows near Magdesho and Brava. Colonel Rigby suggests that the Resident at Aden might induce some of the Oghaden tribe of Somalis to rescue the captives, or at least to bring information as to where they are residing. Inquiries should also be made at Brava and Magdesho, and that trustworthy natives be sent into the country, who, in the character of traders, might be enabled to obtain the much de sired information. The exertions of Colonel Rigby and Colonel Playfair have resulted in the almost indubitable certainty that some at least of those who were on board the ill-fated vessel when she drifted from the reef reached the Somali country alive, and were detained as prisoners by the natives. It becomes interesting to know what has been done and what can be done to ascertain the fate of these unfortunate Englishmen, and to restore them, if still alive, to the relatives and friends who have for so many years been sorrowing for their loss. The local authorities at Zanzibar and at the Mauritius have made efforts which have procured some information, but not enough, and, above all, have not procured the liberation of the survivors. The slow but gradual accumulation of evidence has encouraged the relatives of the St. Abbs's victims to urge upon the government to make some decided efforts. Sir R. Murchison has thrown his philanthropic zeal and scientific ardor into the cause. Several members of Parliament have urged upon the Foreign Office the necessity and the duty of exerting all the means at its disposal to terminate the sufferings and the suspense which during so many years have been undergone by the captives in Africa and by their relatives at home. The result has hitherto not been encouraging, as no measures have been taken to ascertain the fate or to procure the release of the unhappy prisoners. It is true that the Foreign Office did make some inquiries through its agents and through the East "OLD MURDER." I. "THERE goes Old Murder," said Mr. Miller, the manager of the Old County Bank, as he stood at his window, with his nose resting on the top of the wire blind. "Old Murder" was the nickname given to Doctor Thatcher by the inhabitants of Crossford. It was a sarcastic nickname, but used in all good nature; for the old doctor, though somewhat penurious and brusque, was a worthy man who had done his duty and combated death with success and profit for forty years. The Crossford is a pleasant compact town, and as the Doctor drove up the High Street every one saw him. The butcher, among his sheep, pinked with white slashes, took off his hat as he jointed loin of mutton on his enormous sacrificial crimsoned block. bookbinder standing at his press, torturing a volume in his vice, saw him through his window, and, with some scraps of gold leaf in his hair, opened his glass door to watch him. They saw him over the little buttery door at the post-office, and the young men at the draper's discussed him as they unrolled carpets and uncoiled ribbons. Dr. Thatcher was bound on a visit to his old friend the rector, at Woodcot, a suburb of Crossford; wrapped up in a coarse, threadbare, brown greatcoat, with a comforter hiding all but his nose, he drove on in his rickety pony-chaise, his old blind white mare never exceeding her usual pace for any possible provocation. He drove brooding as he went over old times; old men can only look back, the future has little pleasure for them. With his thick rough gray eyebrows, furrowed frosty face, and big gray whiskers, Dr. Thatcher looked the very type of elderly sagacity. It was a bright November morning, and the sunshine, like the presence of one we love, shed hope, joy, and comfort on the meanest and humblest object. The Doctor was in high spirits, and ripe for gossip. As he rang at the door, a portly, comfortable butler presented himself, and called a page-boy to hold the Doctor's horse. "How are you, Roberts?" said the Doctor, with gruff kindliness. "How's the gout? Take less ale; that's my prescription." Saturday The Doctor was propitiated; his old gray eyes brightened under his white eyebrows. Only take it off for very old friends. That is the key of my case-book, which my poor dear wife gave me on our wedding-day forty years ago next spring." It was a curious ring, of old Italian workmanship. It had originally been the key of the jewel-chest of some nobleman of the house of Medici, for it bore the arms, the three pills, of that dangerous family. The Rector's study was a delightful den, walled | dren. Excuse me, Doctor, as a great admirer of old with sound old books and hung with exquisite water-jewelry, asking you to let me see that key-ring of color sketches by Cox, Copley Fielding, Turner, yours again off your finger. I always admire it so and Prout, — rainy moors, sunny cliffs bathed in pure much, it is really worthy of Cellini." blue air, enchanted mountains, magic sunsets, and crumbling gable-ended Norman houses. There were rare hothouse flowers on the table, a Venetian glass, and rare photographs, old editions of the Eliza bethan poets, ivory elephants, little palanquins, and Japanese fans. It was the den of a man of refinement, travel, sense, and taste. The windows looked out on a broad sweep of soft green lawn, and a fine cedar-tree spread out its vast dark ledges of boughs in eternal benediction. A bright lively fire rose in a waving pyramid from the grate, that shone as "I should leave you that key when I go under the bright as a Life Guardsman's breastplate. The Doc-grass, Buller, but I've promised it to that dear boy, tor, growling at the delay, was turning over some for he'll have all my business, and there's nothing photographs of Cornwall, the granite cliffs repro- like secrecy with a case-book. Buller, you must duced with every crack, cleft, and splinter, when walk more, you 're getting too stout. How's that there came a cheery tap at the window. It was eye of yours, by the by?" He put the ring on the Rector, cheerful as ever, and rejoicing to see his again as he spoke, and rubbed it affectionately with old friend. As the Doctor opened the glass door his coat cuff. that led out to the lawn, the Rector stepped in and shook him by the hands. "We want you to see George; his throat's bad, Doctor," said the Rector. Very well, then, here I am. Mind, no gratis advice; down in the bill. I earned my experience hard, and I don't mean to part with it gratis." "No one asked you, Doctor," said the Rector, who knew his old friend's manner. He rang the bell, and the frightened page-boy entered. Page-boy!" growled the Doctor. "In my time they were called only boys. Get a silver spoon." The boy went and returned in a moment with a spoon. "Now open your mouth. I'm not going to cut your tongue off. Open it wider, sir." The Doctor held back the boy's tongue with the bowl of the spoon and looked in. "Bah!" he said. "Mere inflammation. I'll send you a gargle, boy. If it gets worse, why, I can snip off the end of the uvula. There, that'll do, page-boy. When I was young, Buller," said the Doctor, as the door closed, and he threw himself back roughly in a sloping arm-chair, "I made this my golden rule, — always, if possible, to get my fee when the patient was still in pain. It made the fee larger, and it was paid quicker. I never pretended to refuse fees, and then took them. I only wish I could get my Jack into better ways about these things. Delicacy is thrown away on people; every one is for himself." The Rector laughed, poked the fire, and rubbed his hands. He enjoyed the Doctor in his dry, splenetic moods. "I've come to ask you to dine with the Prices and one or two more to-night at seven: plain mutton and a bit of fish, hare soup, and a pudding, no fuss. I don't ask you for show, or to wipe off a debt; but because I like you. Rubber afterwards. Your old flame, my sister, will be there, and Letty, of course, or Jack won't hear of it." "How is your adopted son, Doctor?" "How is he? What, Harkness? Why, strong as a lion, of course; riding, shooting, singing better than any other young man in Surrey. This morning the dear boy insisted on driving tandem, only fancy driving tandem to see patients! Ha, ha! But these are harmless follies. O, he 'll ferment clear as your dry sherry. How's Mary?" Pretty well, thank you. Gone out with the chil "The conjunctiva is still inflamed, and the iris wants expanding." The Doctor darted a crafty look from under his thick eyebrows, then began to hum Paddy Carey,— "tum tiddle ti-ti: But what do you know about irises?" "Will you come into the conservatory, doctor, 66 Every penny; but he won't get it for a dozen years, I hope. Do you know, Buller, I am planning something to keep the boy quiet and prudent; for he is rather inclined to be wild. I tell him he sha'n't marry Letty till he has made two hundred a year by half fees. He'll do it, I'll be bound, in the first year. I pretend to be inexorable. I examine his accounts. I pay no debts. I keep him hard at it, and what is the result? A better boy does n't breathe in all Surrey. He won't drink spirits, he won't touch cards; yet all the time I'm negotiating for a small estate to give him when he marries ; but it kills me parting with hard-earned money.' with By this time the Doctor and the Rector had "Well, and you doctors are paid to cure us, and Will I bear it? What did I say when Sir Astley told me once I must have my leg off, after that accident, riding?—You'll find a saw,' I said, pointing, in that third left-hand drawer.' You're a good old friend; come, say away." The old doctor's manner was, nevertheless, somewhat restless, and a little belied the energy and resolution implied in his words. He twisted his keyring round anxiously. The Rector's eyes were clear, cold, and fixed; his 1 |