sell aesthetic photographs out of a leather case to another and

very youthful gentleman with a yellow goatee, and a pair of
lovers debating some fine shade (in the other). But the

centre-piece and great attraction was a little old man, in a
black, ready-made surtout, which was obviously a recent purchase.

On the marble table in front of him, beside a sandwich and a
glass of beer, there lay a battered forage cap. His hand

fluttered abroad with oratorical gestures; his voice, naturally
shrill, was plainly tuned to the pitch of the lecture room; and

by arts, comparable to those of the Ancient Mariner, he was now
holding spellbound the barmaid, the waterman, and four of the

unemployed.
'I have examined all the theatres in London,' he was saying; 'and

pacing the principal entrances, I have ascertained them to be
ridiculously disproportionate to the requirements of their

audiences. The doors opened the wrong way--I forget at this
moment which it is, but have a note of it at home; they were

frequently locked during the performance, and when the auditorium
was literally thronged with English people. You have probably not

had my opportunities of comparing distant lands; but I can assure
you this has been long ago recognized as a mark of aristocratic

government. Do you suppose, in a country really self-governed,
such abuses could exist? Your own intelligence, however

uncultivated, tells you they could not. Take Austria, a country
even possibly more enslaved than England. I have myself conversed

with one of the survivors of the Ring Theatre, and though his
colloquial German was not very good, I succeeded in gathering a

pretty clear idea of his opinion of the case. But, what will
perhaps interest you still more, here is a cutting on the subject

from a Vienna newspaper, which I will now read to you,
translating as I go. You can see for yourselves; it is printed in

the German character.' And he held the cutting out for
verification, much as a conjuror passes a trick orange along the

front bench.
'Hullo, old gentleman! Is this you?' said Michael, laying his

hand upon the orator's shoulder.
The figure turned with a convulsion of alarm, and showed the

countenance of Mr Joseph Finsbury. 'You, Michael!' he cried.
'There's no one with you, is there?'

'No,' replied Michael, ordering a brandy and soda, 'there's
nobody with me; whom do you expect?'

'I thought of Morris or John,' said the old gentleman, evidently
greatly relieved.

'What the devil would I be doing with Morris or John?' cried the
nephew.

'There is something in that,' returned Joseph. 'And I believe I
can trust you. I believe you will stand by me.'

'I hardly know what you mean,' said the lawyer, 'but if you are
in need of money I am flush.'

'It's not that, my dear boy,' said the uncle, shaking him by the
hand. 'I'll tell you all about it afterwards.'

'All right,' responded the nephew. 'I stand treat, Uncle Joseph;
what will you have?'

'In that case,' replied the old gentleman, 'I'll take another
sandwich. I daresay I surprise you,' he went on, 'with my

presence in a public-house; but the fact is, I act on a sound but
little-known principle of my own--'

'O, it's better known than you suppose,' said Michael sipping his
brandy and soda. 'I always act on it myself when I want a drink.'

The old gentleman, who was anxious to propitiate Michael, laughed
a cheerless laugh. 'You have such a flow of spirits,' said he, 'I

am sure I often find it quite amusing. But regarding this
principle of which I was about to speak. It is that of

accommodating one's-self to the manners of any land (however
humble) in which our lot may be cast. Now, in France, for

instance, every one goes to a cafe for his meals; in America, to
what is called a "two-bit house"; in England the people resort to

such an institution as the present for refreshment. With
sandwiches, tea, and an occasional glass of bitter beer, a man

can live luxuriously in London for fourteen pounds twelve
shillings per annum.'

'Yes, I know,' returned Michael, 'but that's not including
clothes, washing, or boots. The whole thing, with cigars and

occasional sprees, costs me over seven hundred a year.'
But this was Michael's last interruption. He listened in

good-humoured silence to the remainder of his uncle's lecture,
which speedily branched to political reform, thence to the theory

of the weather-glass, with an illustrative account of a bora in
the Adriatic; thence again to the best manner of teaching

arithmetic to the deaf-and-dumb; and with that, the sandwich
being then no more, explicuit valde feliciter. A moment later the

pair issued forth on the King's Road.
'Michael, I said his uncle, 'the reason that I am here is because

I cannot endure those nephews of mine. I find them intolerable.'
'I daresay you do,' assented Michael, 'I never could stand them

for a moment.'
'They wouldn't let me speak,' continued the old gentleman

bitterly; 'I never was allowed to get a word in edgewise; I was
shut up at once with some impertinent remark. They kept me on

short allowance of pencils, when I wished to make notes of the
most absorbing interest; the daily newspaper was guarded from me

like a young baby from a gorilla. Now, you know me, Michael. I
live for my calculations; I live for my manifold and

ever-changing views of life; pens and paper and the productions
of the popular press are to me as important as food and drink;

and my life was growing quite intolerable when, in the confusion
of that fortunate railway accident at Browndean, I made my

escape. They must think me dead, and are trying to deceive the
world for the chance of the tontine.'

'By the way, how do you stand for money?' asked Michael kindly.
'Pecuniarily speaking, I am rich,' returned the old man with

cheerfulness. 'I am living at present at the rate of one hundred
a year, with unlimited pens and paper; the British Museum at

which to get books; and all the newspapers I choose to read. But
it's extraordinary how little a man of intellectual interest

requires to bother with books in a progressive age. The
newspapers supply all the conclusions.'

'I'll tell you what,' said Michael, 'come and stay with me.'
'Michael,' said the old gentleman, 'it's very kind of you, but

you scarcely understand what a peculiar position I occupy. There
are some little financial complications; as a guardian, my

efforts were not altogetherblessed; and not to put too fine a
point upon the matter, I am absolutely in the power of that vile

fellow, Morris.'
'You should be disguised,' cried Michael eagerly; 'I will lend

you a pair of window-glass spectacles and some red
side-whiskers.'

'I had already canvassed that idea,' replied the old gentleman,
'but feared to awaken remark in my unpretentious lodgings. The

aristocracy, I am well aware--'
'But see here,' interrupted Michael, 'how do you come to have any

money at all? Don't make a stranger of me, Uncle Joseph; I know
all about the trust, and the hash you made of it, and the

assignment you were forced to make to Morris.'
Joseph narrated his dealings with the bank.