elephants."

"How you do talk!" said Anna Maria. "Do you forget that all this rubbish
does n't go down with me?"

"Well, I mean old Hickory, that had the snuffshop in Bath, used only to
give me one point in the rub, and we played for sixpence; damme, I 'll
not forget it,--he cleaned me out in no time. Tink, tink, a-tink-a-tink,
tink-a-tinka-dido! Here, Saladin! bear me the spicy cup, ambrosial boy!"

"Ahem!" said the lady, in a tone that didn't sound exactly like
concurrence.

"Eat a few dates, and then repose," said the deep voice.

"I wish I had them, av they were eatable," said Saladin, as he turned
away.

"Wretch, you have forgotten to salaam; exit slowly. Tink, tink,
a-tink-a-tink! Anna Maria, he's devilish good now for black parts; I
think I'll make Jones bring him out. Wouldn't it be original to make
Othello talk broken English? 'Farewell de camp!' Eh, by Jove! that 's a
fine thought. 'De spirit stir a drum, de piercy pipe.' By Jove! I like
that notion."

Here the gentleman rose in a glorious burst of enthusiasm, and began
repeating snatches from Shakspeare, in the pleasant travesty he had hit
upon.

"Cradock revoked, and you never saw him," said the lady, dryly,
interrupting the monologue.

"I did see it clearly enough, but I had done so twice the same game,"
said he, gayly; "and if the grave were to give up its dead, I, too,
should be a murderer. Fine thought that, is n't it?"

"He won seventeen and sixpence from you," rejoined she, pettishly.

"Two bad half-crowns,--dowlas, filthy dowlas," was the answer.

"And the hopeful young gentleman in the next room,--what profitable
intentions, may I ask you, have you with respect to him?"

"Burke! Tom Burke! Bless your heart, he 's only son and heir to Burke
of Mount Blazes, in the county Galway. His father keeps three packs of
harriers, one of fox, and another of staghounds,--a kind of brindled
devils, three feet eight in height; he won't take them under. His father
and mine were schoolfellows at Dundunderamud, in the Himalaya, and
he--that is, old Burke--saved my father's life in a tiger hunt. And am I
to forget the heritage of gratitude my father left me?"

"You ought not, perhaps, since it was the only one he bequeathed," quoth
the lady.

"What! is the territory of Shamdoonah and Bunfunterabad nothing? are
the great suits of red emeralds and blue opal, that were once the crown
jewels of Saidh Sing Doolah, nothing? is the scymitar of Hafiz, with