otmen
were stirring about the house, and one meeting Evan close by his door,
observed with demure grin, that he could not find the gentleman's
nether-garments. The gentleman, it appeared, was Mr. John Raikes, who
according to report, had been furnished with a bed at the house, because
of a discovery, made at a late period over-night, that farther the
gentleman could not go. Evan found him sleeping soundly. How much the
poor youth wanted a friend! Fortune had given him instead a born buffoon;
and it is perhaps the greatest evil of a position like Evan's, that, with
cultured feelings, you are likely to meet with none to know you. Society
does not mix well in money-pecking spheres. Here, however, was John
Raikes, and Evan had to make the best of him.

'Eh?' yawned Jack, awakened; 'I was dreaming I was Napoleon Bonaparte's
right-hand man.'

'I want you to be mine for half-an-hour,' said Evan.

Without replying, the distinguished officer jumped out of bed at a bound,
mounted a chair, and peered on tip-toe over the top, from which, with a
glance of self-congratulation, he pulled the missing piece of apparel,
sighed dejectedly as he descended, while he exclaimed:

'Safe! but no distinction can compensate a man for this state of
intolerable suspicion of everybody. I assure you, Harrington, I wouldn't
be Napoleon himself--and I have always been his peculiar admirer--to live
and be afraid of my valet! I believe it will develop cancer sooner or
later in me. I feel singular pains already. Last night, after crowning
champagne with ale, which produced a sort of French Revolution in my
interior--by the way, that must have made me dream of Napoleon last
night, with my lower members in revolt against my head, I had to sit and
cogitate for hours on a hiding-place for these-call them what you will.
Depend upon it, Harrington, this world is no such funny affair as we
fancy.'

'Then it is true, that you could let a man play pranks on you,' said
Evan. 'I took it for one of your jokes.'

'Just as I can't believe that you're a tailor,' returned Jack. 'It 's not
a bit more extraordinary.'

'But, Jack, if you cause yourself to be contemptible----'

'Contemptible!' cried Jack. 'This is not the tone I like. Contemptible!
why it's my eccentricity among my equals. If I dread the profane vulgar,
that only proves that I'm above them. Odi, etc. Besides, Achilles had his
weak point, and egad, it was when he faced about! By Jingo! I wish I'd
ha