Chapter II (2)

"No, thank you, ma'am--it's of not the _least_ consequence," he replied, with a desperate air; and tossing it with attempted carelessness into his hat, which he put on his head, he very civilly wished her good-night, and departed--very nearly inclined to sickness, or faintness, or something of the sort, which the fresh air might perhaps dispel. He quickly espied a lamp at a corner, which promised to afford him an uninterrupted opportunity of inspecting his letter. He took it out of his hat. It was addressed--simply, "Mr. Titmouse, _Cocking_ Court, Oxford Street," (which accounted, perhaps, for the clerk's having been unable to find it;) and having been opened with trembling eagerness, thus it read:--

"Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, present their compliments to Mr.
Titmouse, and are anxious to save him the trouble of his intended
visit this evening.

"They exceedingly regret that obstacles (which it is to be hoped,
however, may not prove _ultimately_ insurmountable) exist in the
way of their prosecuting their intended inquiries on behalf of Mr.
Titmouse.

"Since their last night's interview with him, circumstances, which
they could not have foreseen, and over which they have no control,
have occurred, which render it unnecessary for Mr. T. to give
himself any more anxiety in the affair--at least, not until he
shall have heard from Messrs. Q. G. and S.

"If anything of importance _should_ hereafter transpire, it is not
improbable that Mr. T. may hear from them.

"They were favored, this afternoon, with a visit from Mr. T.'s
friend--a Mr. Hucklebottom."

"_Saffron Hill, Wednesday Evening, 12th July 18--._"

When poor Titmouse had finished reading over this vague, frigid, and disheartening note a second time, a convulsive sob or two pierced his bosom, indicative of its being indeed swollen with sorrow; and at length, overcome by his feelings, he cried bitterly--not checked even by the occasional exclamations of one or two passers-by. He could not at all control himself. He felt as if he could have almost relieved himself, by banging his head against the wall! A tumultuous feeling of mingled grief and despair prevented his thoughts, for a long while, from settling on any one idea or object. At length, when the violence of the storm had somewhat abated, on concluding a third perusal of the death-warrant to all his hopes, which he held in his hand, his eye lit upon the strange word which was intended to designate his friend Huckaback; and it instantly changed both the kind of his feelings, and the current in which they had been rushing. Grief became rage; and the stream foamed in quite a new direction--namely, towards Huckaback. That accursed fellow he considered to be the sole cause of the direful disaster which had befallen him. He utterly lost sight of one circumstance, which one might have imagined likely to have occurred to his thoughts at such a time--viz. his own offensive and insolent behavior over-night to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. Yet so it was:--yes, upon the devoted (but unconscious) head of Huckaback, was the lightning rage of Tittlebat Titmouse doomed to descend. The fire that was thus quickly kindled within, soon dried up the source of his tears. He crammed the letter into his pocket, and started off at once in the direction of Leicester Square, breathing rage at every step--_viresque acquirens eundo_. His hands kept convulsively clinching together as he pelted along. Hotter and hotter became his rage as he neared the residence of Huckaback. When he had reached it, he sprang up-stairs; knocked at his _quondam_ friend's door; and on the instant of its being--doubtless somewhat surprisedly--opened by Huckaback, who was undressing, Titmouse sprang towards him, let fly a goodly number of violent blows upon his face and breast--and down fell Huckaback upon the bed behind him, insensible, and bleeding profusely from his nose.

"There! there!"--gasped Titmouse, breathless and exhausted, discharging a volley of oaths and opprobrious epithets at the victim of his fury. "Do it again! You will, won't you? _You'll_ go--and meddle again in other people's--you---- cu-cu-cursed officious"--but his rage was spent--the paroxysm was over; the silent and bleeding figure of Huckaback was before his eyes; and he gazed at him, terror-stricken. What had he done! He sank down on the bed beside Huckaback--then started up, wringing his hands, and staring at him in an ecstasy of remorse and fright. It was rather singular that the noise of such an assault should have roused no one to inquire into it; but so it was. Frightened almost out of his bewildered senses, he closed and bolted the door; and addressed himself, as well as he was able, to the recovering of Huckaback. After propping him up, and splashing cold water into his face, Titmouse at length discovered symptoms of restoration to consciousness, which he anxiously endeavored to accelerate, by putting to the lips of the slowly-reviving victim of his violence some cold water, in a tea-cup. He swallowed a little; and soon afterwards, opening his eyes, stared on Titmouse with a dull eye and bewildered air.

"What's been the matter?" at length he faintly inquired.

"Oh, Hucky! so glad to hear you speak again. It's I--I--Titty! I did it! Strike me, Hucky, as soon as you're well enough! Do--kick me--anything you choose! I won't hinder you!" cried Titmouse, sinking on his knees, and clasping his hands together, as he perceived Huckaback rapidly reviving.

"Why, what _is_ the matter?" repeated that gentleman, with a wondering air, raising his hand to his nose, from which the blood was still trickling. The fact is, that he had lost his senses, probably from the suddenness, rather than the violence of the injuries which he had received.

"I did it all--yes, I did!" continued Titmouse, gazing on him with a look of agony and remorse.

"Why, I can't be awake--I can't!" said Huckaback, rubbing his eyes, and then staring at his wet and blood-stained shirt-front and hands.

"Oh yes, you are--you are!" groaned Titmouse; "and I'm going _mad_ as fast as I can! Do what you like to me! Kick me if you please! Call in a constable! Send me to jail! Say I came to rob you--anything--blow me if I care what becomes of me!"

"Why, what _does_ all this jabber mean, Titmouse?" inquired Huckaback, sternly, and apparently meditating reprisals.

"Oh, yes, I see! Now you _are_ going to give it me! but I won't stir. So hit away, Hucky."

"Why--are you mad?" inquired Huckaback, grasping him by the collar rather roughly.

"Yes, quite! Mad!--ruined!--gone to the devil all at once!"

"And what if you are? What did it matter to _me_? What brought you here?" continued Huckaback, in a tone of increasing vehemence. "What have I done to offend you? How _dare_ you come _here_? And at this time of night, too? Eh?"

"What, indeed! Oh lud, oh lud, oh lud! Kick me, I say--strike me! You'll do me good, and bring me to my senses. _Me_ to do all this to you! And we've been such precious good friends always. I'm a brute, Hucky--I've been mad, stark mad, Hucky--and that's all I can say!"

Huckaback stared at him more and more; and began at length to suspect how matters stood--namely, that the Sunday's incident had turned Titmouse's head--he having also, no doubt, heard some desperate bad news during the day, smashing all his hopes. A mixture of emotions kept Huckaback silent. Astonishment--apprehension--doubt--pride--pique--resentment. He had been _struck_--his blood had been drawn--by the man there before him on his knees, formerly his friend; now, he supposed, a madman.

"Why, curse me, Titmouse, if I can make up my mind what to do to you!" he exclaimed, "I--I suppose you are going mad, or gone mad, and I must forgive you. But get away with you--out with you, or--or--I'll call in"----

"Forgive me--forgive me, dear Hucky! Don't send me away--I shall go and drown myself if you do."

"What the d--l do I care if you do? You'd much better have gone and done it before you came here. Nay, be off and do it _now_, instead of blubbering here in this way."

"Go on! go on!--it's doing me good--the worse the better!" sobbed Titmouse.

"Come, come," said Huckaback, roughly, "none of this noise here. I'm tired of it!"

"But, pray, don't send me away from you. I shall go straight to the devil if you do! I've no friend but you, Hucky. Yet I've been such a villain to you!--But it quite put the devil into me, when all of a sudden I found it was _you_."

"Me!--Why, what _are_ you after?" interrupted Huckaback, with an air of angry wonder.

"Oh dear, dear!" groaned Titmouse; "if I've been a brute to you, which is quite true, _you've_ been the _ruin_ of me, clean! I'm clean done for, Huck. Cleaned out! You've done my business for me; knocked it all on the head!--I sha'n't never hear any more of it--they've said as much in their letter--they say you called to-day"----

Huckaback now began to have a glimmering notion of his having been, in some considerable degree, connected with the mischief of the day--an unconscious agent in it. He audibly drew in his breath, as it were, as he more and more distinctly recollected his visit to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and adverted more particularly to his _threats_, uttered, too, in Titmouse's name, and as if by his authority. Whew! here was a kettle of fish.

Now, strange and unaccountable as, at first thought, it may appear, the very circumstance which one should have thought calculated to assuage his resentment against Titmouse--namely, that he had really _injured_ Titmouse most seriously, (if not indeed irreparably,) and so _provoked_ the drubbing which had just been administered to him--had quite the contrary effect. Paradoxical as it may seem, matter of clear mitigation was at once converted into matter of aggravation. Were the feelings which Huckaback then experienced, akin to that which often produces hatred of a person whom one has injured? May it be thus accounted for? That there is a secret satisfaction in the mere consciousness of being a sufferer--a martyr--and that, too, in the presence of a person whom one perceives to be aware that he has wantonly injured one; that one's bruised spirit is soothed by the sight of his remorse--by the consciousness that he is punishing himself infinitely more severely than _we_ could punish him; and of the claim one has obtained to the _sympathy_ of everybody who sees, or may hear of one's sufferings, (that rich and grateful balm to injured feeling.) But when, as in the case of Huckaback, feelings of this description (in a coarse and small way, to be sure, according to his kind) were suddenly encountered by a consciousness of his having _deserved_ his sufferings; when the martyr felt himself quickly sinking into the culprit and offender; when, I say, Huckaback felt an involuntary consciousness that the gross indignities which Titmouse had just inflicted on him, had been justified by the provocation--nay, had been far less than his mischievous and impudent interference had deserved;--and when feelings of this sort, moreover, were sharpened by a certain tingling sense of physical pain from the blows which he had received--the result was, that the sleeping lion of Huckaback's courage was very nearly awakening.

"_I've half a mind, Titmouse_"--said Huckaback, knitting his brows, fixing his eyes, and appearing inclined to raise his arm. There was an ominous pause for a moment or two, during which Titmouse's feelings also underwent a slight alteration. His allusion to Huckaback's ruinous insult to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, unconsciously converted his remorse into rage, which it rather, perhaps, resuscitated. Titmouse rose from his knees. "Ah!" said he, in quite an altered tone, "you _may_ look fierce! you may!--you'd better strike me, Huckaback--do! Finish the mischief you've begun this day! Hit away--you're quite safe"--and he secretly prepared himself for the mischief which--did not come. "You _have_ ruined me! you have, Huckaback!" he continued with increasing vehemence; "and I shall be cutting my throat--nay," striking his fist on the table, "I will!"

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Huckaback, apprehensively. "No, Titmouse, don't--don't think of it; it will all come right yet, depend on't; you see if it don't!"

"Oh, no, it's all done for--it's all up with me!"

"But _what's_ been done?--let us hear," said Huckaback, as he passed a wet towel to and fro over his ensanguined features. It was by this time clear that the storm which had for some time given out only a few faint fitful flashes or flickerings in the distance, had passed away. Titmouse, with many grievous sighs, took out the letter which had produced the paroxysms I have been describing, and read it aloud. "And only see how they've spelled your name, Huckaback--look!" he added, handing his friend the letter.

"How _partic'lar_ vulgar!" exclaimed Huckaback, with a contemptuous air, which, overspreading his features, half-closed as was his left eye, and swollen as were his cheek and nose, would have made him a queer object to one who had leisure to observe such matters. "And so _this_ is all they say of _me_," he continued. "How do you come to know that I've been doing you mischief? All I did was just to look in, as respectful as possible, to ask how you was, and they very civilly told me you was very well, and we parted"----

"Nay, now, that's a lie, Huckaback, and you know it!" interrupted Titmouse.

"It's true, so help me----!" vehemently asseverated Huckaback.

"Why, perhaps you'll deny that you wrote and told me all you said," interrupted Titmouse, indignantly, feeling in his pocket for Huckaback's letter, which that worthy had at the moment quite forgotten having sent, and on being reminded of it, he certainly seemed rather nonplussed. "Oh--ay, if you mean _that_--hem!"--he stammered.

"Come, you _know_ you're a liar, Huck--but it's no good now: liar or no liar, it's all over."

"The pot and kettle, anyhow, Tit, as far as that goes--hem!--but let's spell over this letter; we haven't studied it yet; I'm a hand, rather, at getting at what's said in a letter!--Come"--and they drew their chairs together, Huckaback reading over the letter slowly, alone; Titmouse's eyes travelling incessantly from his friend's countenance to the letter, and so back again, to gather what might be the effect of its perusal.

"There's a glimpse of daylight yet, Titty!" said Huckaback, as he concluded reading it.

"No! But is there really? Do tell me, Hucky"----

"Why, first and foremost, how uncommon polite they are, (except that they haven't manners enough to spell my name right)"----

"Really--and so they are!" exclaimed Titmouse, rather elatedly.

"And then, you see, there's another thing--if they'd meant to give the thing the go-by altogether, what could have been easier than to say so?--but they haven't said anything of the sort, so they don't _mean_ to give it all up!"

"Lord, Huck! what would I give for such a head as yours! What you say is quite true," said Titmouse, still more cheerfully.

"To be sure, they do say there's an _obstacle_--an obstacle, you see--nay, it's obstacles, which is several, and that"---- Titmouse's face fell.

"But they say again, that it's--it's--curse their big words--they say it's--to be got over in time."

"Well--that's something, isn't it?"

"To be sure it is; and a'n't anything better than nothing? But then, again, here's a stone in the other pocket--they say there's a _circumstance_!--don't you hate circumstances, Titty?--I do."

"So do I!--What does it mean? I've often heard--isn't it a _thing_? And that may be--anything."

"Oh, there's a great dif--hem! And they go on to say it's happened since you was there"----

"Curse me, then, if that don't mean _you_, Huckaback!" interrupted Titmouse, with returning anger.

"No, that can't be it; they said they'd no control over the circumstance;--now they _had_ over me; for they ordered me to the door, and I went; a'n't that so, Titty?--Lord, how my eye _does_ smart, to be sure!"

"And don't I smart all over, inside and out, if it comes to that?" inquired Titmouse, dolefully.

"There's nothing particular in the rest of the letter--only uncommon civil, and saying if anything turns up you shall hear."

"_I_ could make that out myself--so there's nothing in that"--said Titmouse, quickly.

"Well--if it _is_ all over--what a pity! Such things as we could have done, Titty, if we'd got the thing--eh?"

Titmouse groaned at this glimpse of the heaven he seemed shut out of forever.

"Can't you find anything--nothing at all comfortable-like, in the letter?" he inquired with a deep sigh.

Huckaback again took up the letter and spelled it over.

"Well," said he, striving to give himself an appearance of thinking, "there's something in it that, after all, I don't seem quite to get to the bottom of--they've seemingly taken a deal of pains with it!"

[And undoubtedly it _was_ a document which had been pretty well considered by its framers before being sent out; though, probably, they had hardly anticipated its being so soon afterwards subjected to the scrutiny of such acute intellects as were now engaged upon it.]

"And then, again, you know they're lawyers; and do _they_ ever write anything that hasn't got more in it than anybody can find out? These gents that wrote this, they're a trick too keen for the thieves even--and how can _we_--hem!--but I wonder if that fat, old, bald-headed gent, with sharp eyes, was Mr. Quirk"----

"To be sure it was," interrupted Titmouse, with a half shudder.

"Was it? Well, then, I'd advise Old Nick to look sharp before he tackles that old gent, that's all!"

"Give me Mr. Gammon for my money," said Titmouse, sighing, "such an _uncommon_ gentlemanlike gent--he's quite taken to me"----

"Ah, that, I suppose, was him with the black velvet waistcoat, and pretty white hands! But _he_ can look stern, too, Tit! You should have seen him ring, when--hem!--But what was I saying about the letter? Don't you see they say they'll be sure to write if anything turns up?"

"So they do, to be sure! Well--I'd forgot that!" interrupted Titmouse, brightening up.

"Then, isn't there their advertisement in the _Flash_? They hadn't their eye on anything when they put it there, I dare say!--They can't get out of _that_, anyhow!"

"I begin to feel all of a sweat, Hucky; I'm sure there's something in the wind yet!" said Titmouse, drawing nearer still to his comforter. "And more than that--would they have said half they did to me last night"----

"Eh! hollo, by the way! I've not heard of what went on last night! So you went to 'em? Well--tell us all that happened--and nothing but the truth, be _sure_ you don't; come, Titty!" said Huckaback, snuffing the candle, and then turning eagerly to his companion.

"Well--they'd such a number of queer-looking papers before them, some with old German-text writing, and others with zigzag marks--and they were so uncommon polite--they all three got up as I went in, and made me bows, one after the other, and said, 'Yours most obediently, Mr. Titmouse,' and a great many more such things."

"Well--and then?"

"Why, Hucky, so help me----! and 'pon my soul, that old gent, Mr. Quirk, told me"--Titmouse's voice trembled at the recollection--"he says, 'Sir, you're the real owner of Ten Thousand a-year, and no mistake!'"

"Lawks!" ejaculated Huckaback, opening wider and wider his eyes and ears as his friend went on.

"'And a title--a _lord_, or something of that sort--and you've a great many country seats; and there's been £10,000 a-year saving up for you ever since you was born--and heaps of interest besides!'--'pon my soul he did!"

"Lord, Tit! you take my breath away," gasped Huckaback, his eyes fixed intently on his friend's face.

"Yes; and they said I might marry the most beautifulest woman that ever my eyes saw, for the asking."

"You'll forget poor Bob Huckaback, Tit!" murmured his friend, despondingly.

"Not I, Huckaback--if I get my rights, and you know how to behave yourself!"

"Have you been to Tag-rag's to-day, after hearing all this?"

[The thermometer seemed to have been here plunged out of hot water into cold--Titmouse was down at zero in a trice.]

"Oh!--that's it! 'Tis all gone again! What a fool I am! We've clean forgot this cursed letter--and that leads me to the end of what took place last night. That cursed shop was what we split on!"

"Split on _the shop_! eh? What's the meaning of that?" inquired Huckaback, with eager anxiety.

"Why, that's the thing," continued Titmouse, in a faltering tone, and with a depressed look--"That was what I wanted to know myself; for they said I'd better go back!! So I said, 'Gents,' said I, 'I'll be---- if I'll go back to the shop any more;' and I snapped my fingers at them--so! (for you know what a chap I am when my blood's up.) And they all turned gashly pale--they did, upon my life--you never saw anything like it! And one of them said then, in a humble way, 'Wouldn't I please to go back to the shop, just for a day or two, till things is got to rights a bit.' 'Not a day nor a minute!' says I, in an immense rage. 'We think you'd better, really,' said they. 'Then,' says I, 'if that's your plan, curse me if I won't cut with you all, and I'll employ some one else!' and--would you believe me?--out I went, bang! into the street!!"

"You _did_, Tit!!" echoed Huckaback, aghast.

"They shouldn't have given me so much brandy and water as they did; I didn't well know what I was about, what with the news and the spirits!"

"And you went into the street?" inquired Huckaback, with a kind of horror.

"I did, by Jove, Hucky!"

"They'd given you the sperrits to see what kind of chap you'd be if you got the property--only to try you, depend on it!"

"Lord! I--I dare say they did!" exclaimed Titmouse, elevating his head with sudden amazement, totally forgetting that same brandy and water he had asked for--"and me never to think of it at the time."

"Now are you quite sure you wasn't in a _dream_ last night, all the while?"

"Oh, dear, I wish I had been--I do, indeed, Hucky!"

"Well--you went into the street--what then?" inquired Huckaback, with a sigh of exhausted attention.

"Why, when I'd got there, I could have bitten my tongue off, as one may suppose; but, just as I was a-turning to go in again, who should come up to me but Mr. Gammon, saying, he humbly hoped there was no offence."

"Oh, glorious! So it was all set right again, then--eh?"

"Why--I--I can't quite exactly say that much, either--but--when I went back, (being obligated by Mr. Gammon being so pressing,) the other two was sitting as pale as death; and though Mr. Gammon and me went on our knees to the old gent, it wasn't any use for a long time; and all that he could be got to say was, that perhaps I might look in again to-night--(but they first made me swear a solemn oath on the Bible never to tell any one anything about the fortune)--and then--you went, Huckaback, and you did the business; they of course concluding I'd sent you!"

"Oh, bother! that can't be. Don't you see how civilly they speak of me in their letter? They're afraid of me, you may depend on it. By the way, Tit, how much did you promise to come down, if you got the thing?"

"_Come down!_--I--really--by Jove, I didn't think of such a thing! No--I'm sure I didn't"--answered Titmouse, as if new light had burst in upon him.

"Why, Tit, I never see'd such a goose! That's it, depend upon it--it's the whole thing! That's what they're driving at, in the note!--Why, Tit, where _was_ your wits? D' ye think such gents as them--great lawyers, too--will work for nothing?--You must write at once and tell them you will come down handsome--say a couple of hundreds, besides expenses--Gad! 'twill set you on your pins again, Titty!--Rot me! now I think of it, if I didn't dream last night that you was a Member of Parliament or something of that sort."

"A member of Parliament! And so I shall, if all this turns up well--I shall be _that_ at least!" replied Titmouse, exultingly.

"You see if my dream don't come true! You see, Titty, I'm _always_ a-thinking of you, day and night. Never was two fellows that was such close friends as we was from the very beginning of knowing each other!"

[They had been acquainted with each other about half a year.]

"Hucky, what a cruel scamp I was to behave to you in the way I did--curse me, if I couldn't cry to see your eye bunged up in that way!"

"Pho! dear Titty, I knew you loved me all the while"--whined Huckaback, "and meant no harm; you wasn't yourself when you did it--and besides, I deserved ten times more! If you had killed me I should have liked you as much as ever!"

"Give us your hand, Hucky! Let's forgive one another!" cried Titmouse, excitedly; and their hands were quickly locked together.

"If we don't mismanage the thing, we shall be all right yet, Titty; but you won't do anything without speaking to _me_ first--will you, Titty?"

"The thoughts of it all going right again is enough to set me wild, Hucky--But what shall we do to set the thing going again?"

"_Quarter past one!_" quivered the voice of the paralytic watchman beneath, startling the friends out of their exciting colloquy; his warning being at the same time silently seconded by the long-wicked candle, burning within half an inch of its socket. They hastily agreed that Titmouse should immediately write to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, a proper [_i. e._ a most abject] letter, solemnly pledging himself to obey their injunctions in everything for the future, and offering them a handsome reward for their exertions, if successful.

"Well--good-night, Huck! good-night," said Titmouse, rising. "I'm not the least sleepy--I sha'n't sleep a wink all night long! I shall sit up to write my letter--you haven't got a sheet of paper here, by the way?--I've used all mine." [That was, he had, some months before, bought a sheet to write a letter, and had so used it.]

Huckaback produced a sheet, somewhat crumpled, from a drawer. "I'd give a hundred if I had them!" said he; "I sha'n't care a straw for the hiding I've got to-night--though I'm a _leetle_ sore after it, too--and what the deuce am I to say to-morrow to Messrs. Diaper"----

"Oh, you can't hardly be at a loss for a lie that'll suit _them_, surely!--So good-night, Hucky--good-night!"

Huckaback wrung his friend's hand, and was in a moment or two alone. "Haven't my fingers been itching all the while to be at the fellow!" exclaimed he, as he shut the door. "But, somehow, I've got too soft a sperrit, and can't bear to hurt any one;--and then--if the chap gets his £10,000 a-year--why--hem! Titty a'n't such a bad fellow, in the main, after all."

If Titmouse had been many degrees higher in the grade of society, _he would still have met with his Huckaback_;--a trifle more polished, perhaps, but hardly more quick-sighted or effective than, in his way, had been the vulgar being he had just quitted.

Titmouse hastened homeward. How it was he knew not; but the feelings of elation with which he had quitted Huckaback did not last long; they rapidly sank, in the cold night-air, lower and lower, the farther he got from Leicester Square. He tried to recollect _what it was_ that had made him take so very different a view of his affairs from that with which he had entered Huckaback's room. He had still a vague impression that they were not desperate; that Huckaback had told him so, _and somehow proved it_; but how he now knew not--he could not recollect. As Huckaback had gone on from time to time, Titmouse's little mind seemed to himself to comprehend and appreciate what was being said, and to gather encouragement from it; but _now_--consume it!--he stopped--rubbed his forehead--what the deuce WAS it? By the time that he had reached his own door, he felt in as deplorable and despairing a humor as ever. He sat down to write his letter at once; but, after many vain efforts to express his meaning--his feelings being not in the least degree relieved by the many oaths he uttered--he at length furiously dashed his pen, point-wise, upon the table, and thereby destroyed the only implement of the sort which he possessed. Then he tore, rather than pulled off, his clothes; blew out his candle with a furious _puff_; and threw himself on his bed--but in so doing banged the back of his head against the back of the bed--and which of the two suffered more, for some time after, probably Mr. Titmouse was best able to tell.

Hath, then--oh, Titmouse! fated to undergo much!--the blind jade Fortune, in her mad vagaries--she, the goddess whom thou hast so long foolishly worshipped--at length cast her sportful eye upon thee, and singled thee out to become the envy of millions of admiring fools, by reason of the pranks she will presently make thee exhibit for her amusement? If this be indeed, as at present it promises, her intent, she truly, to me calmly watching her movements, appears resolved first to wreak her spite upon thee to the uttermost, and make thee pass through intense sufferings! Oh me! Oh me! Alas!