children was full of tender peace and love, and the elder and his wife stood together at the wicket gate, watching them with moist eyes as they rode up the hill. Moses Grant was not too proud to weep now.

continued Halibut, junior. "While I was in my
cradle, you insulted my mother's memory by
marrying a woman on whose previous relation-
ship to you I will spare you the pain of any
comment. She constituted herself my natural
enemy before I could speak, and made my boy-
hood a hell of torment. Like the amiable gen-
tleman you have the repute of being, you aided
and abetted this charming person in all the
petty persecution she contrived against your
son.
Were it not for the kindness of iny poor
dead uncle, I should not have received even
the education of a gentleman. Bless him for
that priceless gift, and thank you for nothing,
Mr. Halibut, senior! You blacken my bright-

The next Sunday, after the sermon was over, the congregation were requested to wait, and there, before them all, an old man, bowing his gray head in shame and sorrow, laid down his eldership in the Mayfield church, and bewailed the sin which made him unworthy, in his own eyes, to wear it longer. A very old book saith, "Whoso humbleth himself shall be exalted," and, looking down over the bastions of the Celestial City, perchance that seemed to angel eyes the hour most worthy of pride of all Mo-est days. You warp my heart until it is almost ses Grant's earthly life.

Walter Fairfield spent that winter at the South with his young wife, but cheerful letters came now and then, telling the old people of Elinor's renewed health and strength, and promising to bring her back in the spring blooming and happy.

In the early spring Parson Stevens received an unexpected call to a larger salary and wider sphere of usefulness, procured, some said, through Mr. Fairfield's influence. Accepting it, he went away with his wife and his six children. Walter Fairfield came back in good time to take his place. Elinor's fortune would more than satisfy all their wants, and they chose to settle down among the people of his first love-to live and die among them.

To Elinor no other spot could be half so dear as the quiet village among the mountains, where, for her, the star had arisen which rises but once -the star of love, whose light was to bless all her happy life on earth, and sparkle still in the golden crown the angels were keeping for her in the Beyond.

deformed, you deny me every thing that makes youth kind and loving and generous, and then you calmly reproach me for not being an angel. Oh, Sir! if I am not a finished and accomplished devil, it has not been your fault."

"That will do, Sir," said Mr. Halibut, without a muscle of his pale face moving. "You have said quite enough. If you continue much longer, you will succeed so well in your undutiful eloquence as to induce me to order the servants to put you out of doors. As it is, I prefer that you should depart without violence. Collect your valuable personal effects, if you please, and do me the favor to let me never behold you again."

Mr. Gilbert Halibut bowed with a contemptuous smile, and closing the parlor door very softly, marched up stairs to commence his preparations for his departure from the paternal mansion.

Gilbert's "personal effects," as Mr. Halibut called them, were not immensely valuable. He had an old leather portmanteau, and into this he commenced packing his wardrobe, making to himself, as he went along, a queer, cynical commentary on each article.

"Four shirts," he muttered with a bitter

And so, after all its pride, and pain, and passion, rest came at last to Moses Grant's life. The old man and his old wife live quietly still in the shadow of the mountains, in whose shad-grin, as he overhauled his linen. "Three very ow they were born; and, by-and-by, when their willing feet have drawn nigh to the fathomless river, kind hands will lay them gently down to their last sleep, beside Margaret's grave, in the little church-yard on the hill-top.

"SIR,

A SCREW LOOSE.

I. FATHER AND SON.

IR, you forget whom you speak to." "I regret, Sir, to say that I remember you are my father."

"Your remembrance, then, Mr. Gilbert Halibut, does not seem to affect your filial respect."

"Do I owe you any, Sir ?" and Gilbert Halibut straightened his figure with a gesture of insolent disdain, and fastened his fiery blue eyes on his father's face, who, to do him justice, returned the glance with one of equal defiance. He did not answer his son's question, however. He looked straight at the young man as if he had not heard him.

"I have had a pleasant home, have I not?"

much frayed at the edges, the other tender in
texture as blotting paper. Shirts are an artificial
taste. I must invent some means of doing
without them. The French have a way I hear.
Two pair and a half of stockings, all calculated
to emancipate the toes on the first provocation.
What is the use of the odd stocking, though?
oh! I have it. I'll have one of my legs am-
putated, and then they will last me double the
time. One evening waistcoat. Being my only
one, I suppose I must call it morning and even-
ing. What folly to have one dress for the day,
and another for the night! I will effect a re-
form in costume. Get up something like the
toga. After all that was nothing more than a
street blanket, simple and durable. Six pocket-
handkerchiefs. How disproportioned to the rest
of my wardrobe! Still, they may be made val-
uable. I'll wait until I see a friend who is in
distress because he has forgotten his at an even-
ing party.
I'll give him one of mine, and ask
him to lend me fifty dollars. He can't be un-

with Jones that day, and paid his stage fare, that's a shilling. Then there were two drinks at Upas's-pony brandy, a shilling a glass. That's three shillings. Then I lent Jones a quarter, that's five shillings-and-and-'pon my life it's the most singular thing in the world what has become of that hundred dollars! And I'm in such a deuce of a fix too!" and Twitter, oblivious of the supper at the Ornithorhyncus, and the twenty dollars he lent Jacobs to go and play faro with, and the coat and boots that he bought, and the expensive engravings that he ordered at Goupil's, moans after his vanished pile, and leaves his sumptuous apartments in disgrace.

grateful enough to refuse. One pair of shaky boots, with holes in the soles for the purpose of letting in the mud. I remember those boots well. The first night I got them I suffered such agony that I could not talk to Alice Heriott, and she has gone about every where since saying that I was a spoon. I wish I was one, of silver. I'd be worth money. By-the-way, as to money-" And Mr. Halibut, junior, half drew forth a shabby portemonnaie from his pocket, but thrust it back again almost instantly. "No! no!" he muttered; "it's pleasanter not to know how little I have gotten. I can say to myself, like Mr. Rothschild, that I don't know what I am worth. There! razor, shaving brush, small bit of soap, five books, a comb, and a pair of old kid gloves, useful for cut fingers. Come, old Halibut, senior, the heir of your house does not depart from the paternal mansion with too expensive an outfit. Now for old Twitter. How he'll be astonished when I bowl in on him!" and, shouldering his old leather trunk, Halibut, junior, marched down stairs, opened the halldoor, went through the ceremony of shaking the dust from his feet on the threshold, with a mock-sitting-room, which was yet new to him, he ing smile, and set out for his friend Twitter's residence.

II. THE HEGIRA.

Halibut, junior, found Twitter inhabiting spacious chambers in a splendid house in Tenth Street. He was lounging before the fire in a dressing-gown of large dimensions, with a huge pile of paper on a library table, on the upper sheet of which the title of a romance and Chapter One were inscribed in very large letters. Twitter was smoking, and looking with epicurean gratification on the handsomely furnished

having only moved there the week before.

"My dear Halibut!" cried Twitter, radiant with pleasure at beholding his friend-he was always glad to see people, it gave him an opportunity of idling-" My dear fellow, how are you? What the deuce is that you have got on your shoulder ?"

"My earthly possessions," answered Halibut, junior, depositing his portmanteau on the floor. Twitter," he continued, solemnly, "I've cut with the Governor, and have come to stay with

66

"Splendid, by Jove!" cried the enchanted Twitter, who, to do him justice, was as generous as a prince. "My boy make yourself at home. I'll get a second bed put up for you in the bedroom-you need be under no care as to

Twitter was a young literary gentleman who was continually occupying the handsomest apartments he could find, which he invariably vacated after a month of luxury. He was of a sanguine temperament, and I will do him the justice to say, that he always intended at the time of taking his rooms to pay for them. But so many extraordinary and unforeseen circumstances intervened between the day of his in-you." duction and pay-day, that when that period arrived he regularly found himself in a state of unprecedented pecuniary depletion. The most unexpected calls would be made on his purse, such as being absolutely obliged to invite six friends to a dinner at Delmonico's, with Bur-quarters as long as I have these. Snug rooms, gundy and canvas-backs, or some infamous tailor, whom he had dealt with for over two months would suddenly present his bill, and insist on being paid, on threats of publishing Twitter's account in the newspapers. But the most unusual and at the same time unaccountable accident which his circumstances were in the habit of suffering, was a mysterious evaporation of considerable sums of money.

old fellow, eh?" and Twitter glanced round him as if he had signed a lease for ninety-nine years, and paid the rent in advance.

"All right, then," cried Halibut, junior; "lodging so far settled. When do you dine, Twitter ?"

Twitter's face fell.

"Well, my dear fellow, the fact is, I don't board here. I have taken these rooms without board. Boarding house hours don't suit me." "But you dine somewhere?" Twitter laughed.

dine.

"The oddest thing in life, Sir," Twitter would say to his friend. "I drew a hundred dollars from the Harpers on Tuesday, and to-day, Thursday, I positively can not tell what has "Abstractedly considered, I may be said to become of it. Here is fifty cents, certainly; but Man is a dining animal. Practically, I then where's the remainder? that's the ques-only dine when I happen to have money enough, tion! The most provoking thing about it is or credit, which is the same thing." that I laid that sum aside to pay my rent with, "You have no money, Twitter, and yet you and I find myself in a regular fix now that it is lodge like an emperor?” gone."

66

"I had lots the day before yesterday. Drew Perhaps you spent it?" suggests a friend. seventy-five dollars at Pallytot's-for Child's "My dear fellow, how the deuce could I Book-elegant trifle for Christmas-and the spend it? I didn't pay for any thing between most singular thing in the whole concern is, that this and then. Let me sec. I came up town, I can't tell for the life of me what has become

of the money! I have seven cents in my pocket, certainly; but that leaves seventy-four dollars ninety-three cents to be accounted for. I remember distinctly purchasing two apples and a pair of gloves; but they couldn't run away with seventy-five dollars, you know."

"It's extraordinary," said Halibut, junior. "Most extraordinary thing in the world," echoed Twitter, looking mournfully at his friend, as if silently entreating of him to set on foot instant inquiries as to what had become of his seventy-five dollars.

"But we must dine," remarked Halibut. "Certainly, if you wish it," answered Twitter, meekly.

"I have a dollar and a half, I think," continued Halibut, junior, producing a portemonnaie of old Russia leather, that looked as if it were made out of decayed leaves.

Bank-power, so to speak, that overcomes his clothes. The poor man who is seedily attired seems to know it. It is that appearance that is fatal."

So Twitter attired himself sumptuously, and he and Halibut, junior, went to dine at Dukling's. III-A DINNER AT DUKLING'S, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

It

Dukling is an amiable Jew, who keeps a restaurant in Broadway for the accommodation of impoverished Luxury. There are a great many men in the world whose imagination exceeds their means in the matter of dinner. was in obedience to their necessities that Dukling arose. The dishes of middle life are exiled from his bill of fare. As far as the names are concerned, you can get as good a dinner there as at Thompson and Purcell's. There are no unadorned beef-steaks at Dukling's. You have filet de bœuf aux champignons. He is tremendous on soups-Potage à la Colbert, Potage à la Reine, Purée de Gibier, and so on through a multitude of magnificent carnal essences. He has invented strange puddings, this amiable Dukling, and sometimes names them after celebrated artists, and other famous public people. You will find there Paté à la Pa

Twitter immediately on this prospect of dinner became outrageous. He assumed the most magnificent airs, and if he had had all the kitch-tania, Méringue à la Mario, Omelette de suren of Fouqué at his command could not have been gayer previous to his repast. He instantly commenced to dress for this famous dinner at Dukling's. Twitter was a young man who was careful in dress. Whether he had money or not, he had nice boots, well-made trowsers, and an easy-fitting, gentlemanly coat. Dress was with Twitter an institution of solemn import, an article of trade, just as the broadbrimmed hat is an article of trade with the Quaker, and the white neckcloth a sort of sacred investment of the clergyman.

pris de Lagrange, Les doigts de Wilhorst.
All these things have a charm for men who
love their food under a foreign name.
You can
get for sixty cents, or thereabouts, at Dukling's,
a meal that if named over to an uninitiated
person would sound like a ten-dollar dinner. I
believe that Dukling does an exclusive business
with poets and foreigners.
The first have gen-
erally more imagination than appetite, and the
former is satisfied thoroughly by that imposing
bill of fare. The last love meat that masquer-
ades. Every joint that is in Dukling's kitch-
en is in domino, or fancy costume-tinseled,
painted, and ribboned until not even cow nor
sheep would know their own flesh and blood
again if they were to see it.

Twitter argued shrewdly enough. "Dress," he used to say "is respectability. Few men can afford to do without it. Put Tholosus of Wall Street in a seedy hat and bad boots, and he could no more get a note discounted than Twitter and Halibut having arrived at Dukcould Pilgarlick, the dramatic critic on the Sun-ling's-to do Twitter justice, he never dined at day Slasher. The world is always ready to be Dukling's when he could afford to dine at a betimposed upon. Men are always ready to buy ter place; but when he was hard up, the cheapspurious stock, to discount forged acceptances, ness and splendor combined tempted him—those provided the names written thereon are high-friends having, as I say, arrived at Dukling's, sounding. A man, no matter how great a swindler at bottom, who indorses himself with a fine suit of clothes, will generally be discounted by society. There is, however, a species of shabbiness in dress which is by force of character rendered respectable. Alexander came to see Diogenes, who never combed his hair. Japhet Jacobus Castor, the millionaire, might have gone round New York barefooted, and yet not lost reputation; and every citizen is familiar with the dress of old Sanglier, the pork merchant, who sits at the opera in a coat that his butchers would be ashamed to put on. Rich men can wear what they like. Poor men must put on varnish. There is an indefinable air in the man of money-an air of self-reliance-of

they seated themselves at one of the small tables, and were immediately assaulted by a female waiter, who laced tightly, wore rouge, and smelled of dirty plates, and who planted herself opposite to Twitter, with an expression that seemed to say, "Now you make haste and order your dinner, for my time is valuable." Twitter, after spending nearly ten minutes in cogitation-for he very properly considered that it was the special business of all the servants in the universe to wait on him-to the great disgust of the splendid female, who wished particularly to attend to a favorite dry-goods clerk that had just come in, and with whom she always had a pleasant flirtation over the question of dinner After ten minutes of abstract study,

Twitter eventually succeeded in concluding on an imposing meal, which was, after a quarter of an hour's delay, placed before the friends by the coquettish waitress, who immediately hastened off to attend to her clerk.

A check lay on the table on which was inscribed the cost of the dinner. It amounted exactly to a dollar and a half. Twitter had calculated conscientiously the amount of Halibut's funds, and gone with experienced foot to the very edge of the perilous abyss which yawned upon the other side of the twelve shillings.

The dinner being concluded, the last draught of ale having been drunk, Twitter and his friend

rose.

"A dollar and a half," said Twitter, musingly, looking at the check. "Have you any loose silver, Halibut ?”

"I have sixpence over," answered Halibut. "And I seven cents. That will pay for cigars. Hurrah! Halibut, give me the money -I will pay the bill."

Halibut handed out his earthly possessions, and Twitter stalked magnificently, money in hand, to the counter, at which the amiable Dukling presided, and where he received with a bland smile the little compensations for his recherché fare. To gaze at Dukling, one would imagine that he was a man to whom nothing would give greater pleasure than to give credit to all mankind.

Twitter laid down Halibut's money, with six cents additional drawn from his own pocket, on the counter, and took two cigars, one of which he presented to Halibut. Dukling scrutinized the dollar bill with provoking keenness.

"That may be, Sir," said the amiable Dukling; but I want my money before you leave." "You can't have it," said Twitter, haughtily, with all the blood in his cheeks. "If you send your servant with me to my house you shall have the money."

"I want it now," said Dukling.

"Then, Sir, you can't have it," repeated Twitter, with defiance. "You don't know how to treat a gentleman, Sir!"

"Then I'll keep your hat," said Dukling, seizing Twitter's chapeau that lay on the counter, and transferring it in a second to a drawer underneath.

He stormed and

Twitter was outrageous. swore, and would have immediately assaulted Dukling, if Halibut, who was scarlet with shame at this exposure, had not held him back. Dukling knew human nature. A man without a hat is powerless. The noise of this altercation had attracted the attention of several persons in the restaurant, and a crowd was beginning to gather, when a tall man with a long Oriental beard stepped up quietly to Dukling, handed him something which mollified that incensed Hebrew, and caused him to hand forth Twitter's hat on the spot. This article of costume the stranger handed to Twitter, saying to him,

"Come, this is an accident. I have met with such. I paid the little amount for you. Come out of this place with your friend; I want to speak with you."

And suppressing Twitter's demonstrations of gratitude to himself, and violence toward Dukling, the unknown led the way into the street,

"Have you got another bill, Sir?" said Duk- followed by Twitter and Halibut. ling, with an innocent smile.

"Nothing so small," answered Twitter, uncasily.

"This bill is bad," replied Dukling, firmly, laying the bill on the counter. The bank has been burst up this three months."

"Bad!" exclaimed Twitter, pale and red by

turns.

"Bad!" echoed Halibut, with a glance at the door, as if he would take instant flight were it not that honor bound him to his friend.

'Bad," repeated Dukling, who smiled no longer. "I can not take it."

Twitter took up the note, held it between him and the light, considered it in every point of view-he knew nothing about good or bad money-but it was no use. He could not make it better than it was.

"Really, Mr. Dukling," said Twitter, with a feeble courtesy, "I'm very sorry. This is un

fortunate. I have no more money about me. Just charge this to me, will you?"

"We keep no accounts," said Dukling, shortly, scowling with his black, Jewish eyes. "We never do any thing of this sort. Besides, I don't know you."

“Not know me!” said Twitter, indignantly. "I have been dining here for the last year and a half."

IV. HERCULES.

As soon as they had reached the street the stranger turned to Gilbert, and said, abruptly, "What's your name?"

The tone was so rough that all the blood mounted to the young man's face.

"I'm not in the habit of giving my name to every person that I meet," he answered, haughtily, utterly oblivious of the fact that the man he was snubbing had just rescued him from a most unpleasant predicament.

"Why, Gilbert, my boy," cried Twitter, remonstratively, "you forget what we owe this gentleman!"

Twitter, who saw a mine of large promise in this new friend, was in an agony lest he should be driven away by Gilbert's roughness. The stranger did not appear to notice the snubbing he had just received, but gazed contemplatively on the young man's face.

"Yes," he said, "you must be a Halibut. Your name is Halibut, is it not?"

"I have or had an uncle whose first name was Hercules," said Gilbert.

"Ah! indeed. It is an uncommon name. Is your uncle alive?"

"I don't know. I have heard my father speaking of him. He has not heard of him for many years."

"Have you dined?" said Hercules, suddenly. "No-yes-perhaps-not exactly. We partook simply of a light repast," answered Twit

"That was the allowance he gave his son. ter, with elegant embarrassment. Judge for yourself."

"Hum! the same old story," muttered the stranger to himself. "Have you left him?" he continued, with the abruptness peculiar to him.

"If he was I should not be staying with him," of this problematical young lady, and then cast answered Gilbert, proudly.