hree-cornered hat, he had been washed and cleaned for
the cabinet with a vengeance, and looked as beautiful and as spick and
span as the day the artist had turned him out to an admiring world.

"Bless my heart!" exclaimed Sir Simon, as he viewed the treasure with
the keen admiration of a connoisseur. "Why, it is perfect; I don't
believe there is another one in existence like it. Where did you get
it, and who is it meant to be?"

"Why, Dick Whittington, of course, Dad; so you see Lal was right after
all."

Sir Simon placed the little figure carefully upon the table, and
folding his hands regarded the Writer severely. "Do you happen to know
that it was this particular piece of Lal's nonsense that has worried me
more than anything else all these years?"

"It worried me for a long time until I found out his trick," confessed
the Writer.

"Yes, but mine is a most disheartening story," declared Sir Simon, "and
nearly succeeded in alienating me from all my friends; and as for Mum,
I dare not so much as mention Lal's name to her for fear of having my
nose snapped off; she never did and never will believe in him, declares
that the whole thing is a preposterous lot of nonsense, and declines
even to discuss the subject with me at all. You know, my dear boy,
that Mum is very sensible upon other points, but about Lal she is
openly scornful and secretly adamantine; in fact, the mere mention of
Lal is like poison to her, and he was entirely responsible for the only
difference we have ever had in our married lives."

"Light a cigar, Dad, before you start; and what will you have by way of
a drink?"

The Writer had opened other compartments in the mysterious old oak
cabinet that seemed to possess more doors than a Chinese temple.

"These Coronas I remembered you used to smoke, so I got some."

"Excellent," declared Sir Simon, "and, let me see, why, bless me what a
lot of bottles you have there. I hope you don't drink them all. Some
of that green stuff, my dear boy, if you please, Creme-de-Menthe; yes,
I think a couple of liqueurs of that would be most beneficial to me
after the most indigestible banquet we all partook of at the Mansion
House to-day. The stuff is largely made up of peppermint, I'm sure;
and, of course, peppermint, when it is tastily got up like this
liqueur, is very good for indigestion, isn't it?"

The Writer lighted the old gentleman's cigar, and placing the
Creme-de-Menthe upon the table, filled a ti