you, thank you, my dear fellow; you have removed a load of
anxiety from my mind. Fill your glass to 'auld langsyne,' and then we
will talk over old scenes and old friends."

Long and confidential was our conversation, and varied were the
feelings which it excited. There can be few more interesting events in
a man's life than the unexpected meeting with a long-absent friend.
There is a mournful pleasure in recalling the past, in contrasting the
sad experience of maturer years with the sanguine and glowing
anticipations of our youth. For a few passing moments we forget the
march of time, we look back through the long vista of years, and once
more the warm, and joyous, and fresh feelings of youth seem to gush
forth, and to soften and revive our world-seared and hardened hearts.
So it was with _us_.

The present was for awhile forgotten by us; we were living in the
past; and loud and joyful were our bursts of merriment when we talked
of old jokes and adventures; and then again the thought came over us,
like a chilling blight, suffusing our eyes with tears, that the
curtain of death had fallen over most of our young and cheerful
fellow-actors on the early stage of life. It was with saddened and
subdued hearts we dwelt upon the brief career of some of our early
companions; and we sat for some minutes in silence, musing upon the
vicissitudes of human life. At last, with a forced attempt at
merriment, Musgrave exclaimed, in the words of an old sea ditty--

"'Come, grieving's a folly;
So let us be jolly:
If we've troubles at sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore.'"

"Replenish your tumbler, Frank," continued he; "we'll talk no more of
the past; that's gone beyond recall; but let us make the most of the
present. We have not many hours before us; and I have heard nothing of
your adventures since we parted, nor you of mine. Set a good example,
and begin."

"My story is soon told," replied I; "for, as you remarked before, time
has been flowing on, for me, quiet and undisturbed. I have no
adventures to relate--no stirring accidents by field or flood; mine
has been a humdrum, peaceful life, unmarked by variety, except those
common ones which would be uninteresting to a man of travel and
adventure like yourself."

"Nothing connected with my old friend can prove uninteresting," said
Musgrave; "so pray commence your tale."

Thus urged, I began as follows:--I continued at school two years after
you so