vian bark. As I write this, three
naked little Paddies are creeping about my floor, their mother having so
far forgotten her duty as to leave them behind her, and I enjoy the
privilege of washing and combing the frog-like little abominations. A
pleasant occupation for my father's son! I don't know how long I shall
have to stick here; probably till the very last of the set is dead.

"Meanwhile I have fallen out with my partners in New York. I have had
the privilege of rousing universal dissatisfaction; the shareholders of
the Great Western Landed Company Association have met, made speeches,
and passed resolutions against me. I should not much care for that if I
saw a way of getting clear of the whole affair. But the deceased has
managed so cleverly that I am tied down like a nigger in a slave-ship.
Immense sums have been embarked in this atrocious speculation. If I make
known its nature, I am sure that they will find a way of making me pay
the whole sum at which my late uncle put down his name; and how to do
that without ruining not myself alone, but probably also the firm of
Fink and Becker, I can't yet see.

"Meantime I don't want to hear your opinion as to what I ought to do. It
can be of no use to me, for I know it already. Indeed, I wish for no
letter at all from you, you simple old-fashioned Tony, who believe that
to act uprightly is as easy a thing as to eat a slice of bread and
butter; for, as soon as I have done all I can, buried some, fed others,
and offended my colleagues as much as possible, I shall go for a few
months to the far southwest, to some noble prairie, where one may find
alligators, and horned owls, and something more aristocratic than there
is here. If the prairie afford pen and ink, I shall write to you again.
If this letter be the last you ever get from me, devote a tear to my
memory, and say, in your benevolent way, 'I am sorry for him: he was not
without his good points.'"

Then came a precise description of Fink's affairs, and of the statutes
of the association.

Having read this unsatisfactory letter, Anton sat down at once and spent
the night in writing to his friend.

Even in the common light of the next day our hero retained his feelings
of the night before. Whether he worked at his desk or jested with his
friends, he felt conscious how deeply his life was footed in the walls
of the old house. The rest saw it too. Besides other marks of favor,
Anton often spent the evenings with the