ical
staircase, watching for his arrival.

While I was thus occupied, my nerves "screwed up,"--almost to cracking,
Mr. Wallis's office-door was thrown open, and I beheld that very
gentleman's round, pleasant physiognomy, embrowned by his travels,
staring me full in the face. I really lost my equilibrium at the
apparition.

"Oh!--it's you, is it," cried he. "Where's my rascal?"

"He's not come yet, sir," I replied.

"That fellow's never at hand when I want him--I'll cashier him by ___."
He slammed to his own door, and--opened it again immediately.

"Timmis come?" demanded he.

"No, sir; I don't think he'll be here for an hour."

"True--I'm early in the field; but what brings you here so soon?--some
mischief, I suppose."

"I'm always early, sir, for I live hard by."

"Ha!--well--I wish--."

"Can I do anything for you, sir?" I enquired.

"Why, that's a good thought," said he, and his countenance assumed its
usually bland expression. "Let me see--I want to send my carpet-bag, and
a message, to my housekeeper."

"I can do it, sir, and be back again in no time," cried I, elated at
having an opportunity of obliging the man whom I had really some cause to
fear, in the critical situation in which his nephew's thoughtlessness had
placed me.

In my eagerness, however, and notwithstanding the political acuteness of
my manoeuvre, I got myself into an awful dilemma. Having received the
bag, and his message, I walked off, but had scarcely descended a dozen
stairs when he recalled me.

"Where the devil are you going?" cried he.

"To your house, sir," I innocently replied.

"What, do you know it, then?" demanded he in surprise.

Here was a position. It was a miracle that I did not roll over the
carpet-bag and break my neck, in the confusion of ideas engendered by
this simple query.

I could not lie, and evasion was not my forte. A man or boy in the wrong
can never express himself with propriety; an opinion in which Quinctilian
also appears to coincide, when he asserts--

"Orator perfectus nisi vir bonus esse non potest."

I therefore summoned up sufficient breath and courage to answer him in
the affirmative.

"And when, pray, were you there?" said he.

"Yesterday, sir, your nephew asked me to come and see him."

"The impudent little blackguard?" cried he.

"I hope you ain't angry, sir?"

"Angry with you?--no, my lad; you're an active little chap, and I wish
that imp of mine would take a pattern by