next five minutes, need not be told. He was
called back to more sober feelings by the question--"Do you accept
the terms of the meeting?"

"No, of course not; the fellow's a fool."

"Then you consent to be posted. How will that sound?"

"I'll cut off the rascal's ears if he dare do such a thing."

"That won't secure Mary Clinton, the cause of this contest."

"Hang it, no!"

"With pens for weapons he will wing you a little too quick."

"No doubt. But the public won't bear him out such an outrage--such a
violation of all the rules of honour."

"By the code of honour, the challenged party has the right to choose
the weapons, &c."

"I know."

"And you are afraid to meet the man you have challenged upon the
terms he proposes. That is all plain and simple enough. The world
will understand it all."

"But what is to be done?"

"You must fight, apologize, or be posted; there is no alternative.
To be posted won't do; the laugh would be too strongly against you."

"It will be as bad, and even worse, to fight as he proposes."

"True. What then?"

"It must be made up somehow or other."

"So I think. Will you write an apology?"

"I don't know; that's too humiliating."

"It's the least of the three evils."

So, at last, thought the valiant Lieut. Redmond. When the seconds
again met, it was to arrange a settlement of differences. This could
only be done by a very humbly written apology, which was made. On
the next day the young officer left the city, a little wiser than he
came. Blake and his second said but little about the matter. A few
choice friends were let into the secret, which afforded many a
hearty laugh. Among these friends was Mary Clinton, who not long
after gave her heart and hand to the redoubtable author.

As for the lieutenant, he declares that he had as lief come in
contact with a Paixhan gun as an author with his "infernal pen." He
understands pistols, small swords, rifles, and even cannons, but he
can't stand up when pen-work is the order of the day. The odds would
be too much against him.

TREATING A CASE ACTIVELY.

A PHYSICIAN'S STORY.

I WAS once sent for, in great haste, to attend a gentleman of
respectability, whose wife, a lady of intelligence and refinement,
had discovered him in his room lying senseless upon the floor. On
arriving at the house, I found Mrs. H-- in great distress of mind.

"What is the matter with Mr. H--?" I asked, on meeting his lady,
who was in tear