their noses at the sight of such a seedy
individual, telling him they had no rags or bones or bottles for him
to-day.

"Poor old fellow!" I said to Dad, uttering my reflections aloud. "What
could have made him act so foolishly as to go up there only to be turned
away by that bumptious porter? How very shabby he is, Dad; and with
such a noble face, too! May I give him that shilling you made me a
present of this morning to buy himself some more snuff? He must have
exhausted all he had in his waistcoat pocket by now; he does use it so
extravagantly!"

"Hush, Jack, he may hear you!" whispered my father, dropping his voice
to a lower key than mine, while the amused expression on his face
changed to one of pleased recognition. "Why, it's the old Admiral! I
see he's as great a snuff-taker as ever, and he seems to be even less
careful than he used to be about his clothes; though, I must say, he
never was a dandy at the best of times!"

At the moment Dad spoke, the old gentleman set his right foot gingerly
on the pavement in front of us, his left following a second later, when
the veteran signalised his reaching a sound anchorage with a final blast
from his nasal trumpet and a fine flourish of his bandana, which nearly
knocked out my nearest eye and set me sneezing from the loose particles
of snuff disseminated into the surrounding air.

This gave my father the opportunity he wanted.

"How do you do, Admiral?" said he, drawing himself up and raising his
hat in salute, while still holding me by the hand. "I don't know if you
remember me, sir, but I cannot forget you and your kindness to me of
old, especially in getting me my last appointment. I'm glad to see you
looking so well, sir!"

The old fellow stared at Dad with his gimlet grey eyes, looking him
through and through, knitting his brows, and sniffing and snorting at a
fine rate.

"Eh--what, who the deuce are you?" he ejaculated in short, jerky accents
after a pause, evidently puzzled for the nonce, and, in his agitation,
another fistful of snuff got arrested half-way between his waistcoat
pocket and expectant nose, the consequence of which was that more than
half was spilt on the front of his shirt, and already snuff-stained coat
collar. "Eh, what? I think I know your face, but I'm hanged if I can
recollect your name, sir!"

Dad smiled, and, whether this supplied a missing link to memory's aid or
no, the next instant a gleam of intelligence flashed acro