uor in the mean time--what did you mean by it?"

"From me, Mr. Hycy--_nego_, I say--_pugnis et calc bu nego_."

"Come, come, you know you wrote me an anonymous letter, referring to
some ridiculous copartnership or other that I can neither make head nor
tail of. Tell me candidly what you meant."

"Very good, Mr. Burke; but sure I know of old that jocularity was always
your forte--even when laying in under my own instruction that sound
classical substratum on which the superstructure of your subsequent
knowledge was erected, you were always addicted to the facetious and the
fabulous--both of which you contrived to blend together with an ease and
volubility of language that could not be surpassed."

"That is all very well; but you need not deny that you wrote me the
letter. Let me ask you seriously, what was it you warned me against?"

"_Propino tibi salulem_--here's to you. No, but let me ask you what you
are at, Mr. Hycy? You may have resaved an anonymous letter, but I am
ignorant why you should paternize it upon me."

"Why, because it has all the marks and tokens of you."

"Eh?--to what does that amount? Surely you know my handwriting?"

"Perfectly; but this is disguised evidently."

"Faith," said the other, laughing, "maybe the inditer of it was
disguised when he wrote it."

"It might be," replied Hycy; "however, take your liquor, and in the mean
time I shall feel exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Finigan, if you will
tell me the truth at once--whether you wrote it or whether you did
not?"

"My response again is in the negative," replied Finigan--"I disclaim it
altogether. I am not the scribe, you may rest assured of it, nor can I
say who is."

"Well, then," said Hycy, "I find I must convict you yourself of the
fabulous at least; read that," said he, placing the letter in his own
hands. "Like a true Irishman you signed your name unconsciously; and now
what have you to say for yourself?"

"Simply," replied the other, "that some knave, of most fictitious
imagination, has forged my name to it. No man can say that that is my
manuscription, Mr. Hycy." These words he uttered with great coolness;
and Hycy, who was in many things a shrewd young fellow, deemed it better
to wait until the liquor, which was fast disappearing, should begin to
operate. At length, when about three-quarters of an hour had passed, he
resolved to attack his vanity.

"Well, well, Finigan, as regards this letter, I must say I feel a good
d