mounseer do that! Game--d___ me!"--and lifting the
lid of his desk, he drew out a five pound note! "Here, Wallis, tip him
this flimsey! Tell him--you know what to say--I'm no speechifier--but
you know what I mean." I almost jumped up and hugged my master, I was so
excited.

The next day Monsieur Dubois again made his appearance; and Mr. Wallis
had the pleasure of beholding Mr. Timmis and his gallic friend on the
best terms imaginable.

As for me, I had good cause to rejoice; for it was agreed that I should
take lessons in the "foreign lingo," by way of giving him "a lift," as
Mr. Timmis expressed it. I remember him with feelings of gratitude; for
I owe much more than the knowledge of the language to his kindness and
instruction.

As for Mr. Timmis, he could never sufficiently appreciate his worth,
although he uniformly treated him with kindness.

"Talk of refinement," said he, one day, when discussing Dubois' merits
with Mr. Wallis; "I saw a bit to-day as bangs everything. A cadger
sweeping a crossing fell out with a dustman. Wasn't there some spicy jaw
betwixt 'em. Well, nothing would suit, but the dustman must have a go,
and pitch into the cadger.

"D___ me, what does the cove do, but he outs with a bit of dirty
pasteboard, and he says, says he, "I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's
wulgar!--but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my card!"
Wasn't there a roar! I lugg'd out a bob, and flung it at the vagabond
for his wit."

CHAPTER XIII.--My Talent Called into Active Service.

"Ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?"

"I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly
warmints."

Having to deliver a letter, containing an account and a stock receipt,
to one of Mr. Timmis's clients, residing at the west end of the town; in
crossing through one of the fashionable squares, I observed a flat-faced
negro servant in livery, standing at the door of one of the houses.

Two chimney sweepers who happened to be passing, showed their white teeth
in a contemptuous grin at the African.

"Bob," I overheard one remark, "ar'n't you glad you ain't a
black-a-moor?"

"I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly
warmints. Master's daughter, wots come from boarding school! says the
sight of 'ems' enough to frighten one into conwulsions!"

Alas! for the prejudice of the world! How much this ignorant remark
reminded me of my patron's unfounded hatred of a