lace
_to-day_, I should probably thus express myself:--"My dear Mrs. Raymond,
I advise you to forget the d----d rascal and put on the tea-kettle,
while I rush out and negotiate for some _grub_!"]

Mrs. Raymond gratefully pressed my hand, and said--

"I thank you for thus espousing my cause;--but, my dear friend, _mine_
must be the task of punishing the villain. No other hand but _mine_
shall strike the blow that will send his black, polluted soul into
eternity!"

These fierce words, which were pronounced with the strongest emphasis,
caused me to look at my fair hostess with some degree of astonishment;
and no wonder--for the quiet, elegant lady had been suddenly transferred
into the enraged and revenge-thirsting woman. She looked superbly
beautiful at that moment;--her cheeks glowed, her eyes sparkled, and her
bosom heaved like the waves of a stormy sea.

"Well," said I--"we will discuss that matter hereafter. Have the
goodness to excuse my absence for a few minutes. I have a little errand
to perform."

She smiled, for she knew the nature of my errand. I went down stairs and
walked up the street, in the greatest perplexity; for--let me whisper it
into your ear, reader, I had not a sufficient amount of the current coin
of the realm in my pockets to create a gingle upon a tomb-stone.

"What the devil shall I do?" said I to myself--"here I have constituted
myself the champion and protector of a hungry lady, and haven't enough
money to purchase a salt herring! Shall I _show up_ my satin waistcoat?
No, d----n it, that won't do, for I _must_ keep up appearances. Can't I
borrow a trifle from some of my friends? No, curse them, they are all as
poverty-stricken as I am! I have it!--I'll test the benevolence of some
_gospel-wrestler_, and borrow the devil's impudence for the occasion."

I walked rapidly into a more fashionable quarter of the city, looking
attentively at every door-plate. At last I saw the name, "_Reverend
Phineas Porkley_."[G] That was enough. Without a moment's hesitation I
mounted the steps and rang the bell savagely. The door was opened by a
fat old flunkey with a red nose of an alarming aspect. I rushed by him
into the hall, dashed my hat recklessly upon the table, and shouted--

"Where's Brother Porkley? Show me to him instantly! Don't dare say he's
out, for I know that he's at home! It's a matter of life and death!
Woman dying--children starving--and the devil to pay generally. Wake
Snakes, you fat