onveyed to the
house near the beach which had been prepared for her reception, there to
wait, in constant readiness, until the storm should call her forth to
display her peculiar qualities in actual service.

But another, and, if possible, a still more interesting ceremony
remained to be performed. This was the presentation of the gold and
silver medals of the Institution to several men of the town, who, in a
recent storm, had rendered signal service in the saving of human life.

The zealous and indefatigable secretary of the Institution had himself
come down from London to present these.

The presentation took place in the new town hall, a large building
capable of containing upwards of a thousand people, which, on the
occasion, was filled to overflowing.

The mayor presided, of course, and opened proceedings, as many chairmen
do, by taking the wind out of the sails of the principal speaker! That
is to say, he touched uninterestingly on each topic that was likely to
engage the attention of the meeting, and stated many facts and figures
in a loose and careless way, which every one knew the secretary would,
as a matter of course, afterwards state much better and more correctly
than himself. But the mayor was a respected, well-meaning man, and,
although his speech was listened to with manifest impatience, his
sitting down was hailed with rapturous applause.

At this point--the mayor having in his excitement forgotten to call upon
the secretary to speak--a stout man on the platform took advantage of
the oversight and started to his feet, calling from a disgusted auditor
the expression, "Oh, there's that bore Dowler!" It was indeed that same
Joseph who had, on a memorable occasion long past, signed himself the
"humble" friend of Mr Webster. Before a word could escape his lips,
however, he was greeted with a storm of yells and obliged to sit down.
But he did so under protest, and remained watchful for another
favourable opportunity of breaking in. Dowler never knew when he was
"out of order;" he never felt or believed himself to be "out of order!"
In fact, he did not know what "out of order" meant _when applied to
himself_. He was morally a rhinoceros. He could not be shamed by
disapprobation; could not be cowed by abuse; never was put out by
noise--although he frequently was by the police; nor put down by
reason--though he sometimes was by force; spoke everywhere, on all
subjects, against the opinions (apparent