llo, old gentleman! Is this you?" said Michael, laying his hand upon
the orator's shoulder.

The figure turned with a convulsion of alarm, and showed the countenance
of Mr. Joseph Finsbury.

"You, Michael!" he cried. "There's no one with you, is there?"

"No," replied Michael, ordering a brandy and soda, "there's nobody with
me; whom do you expect?"

"I thought of Morris or John," said the old gentleman, evidently greatly
relieved.

"What the devil would I be doing with Morris or John?" cried the nephew.

"There is something in that," returned Joseph. "And I believe I can
trust you. I believe you will stand by me."

"I hardly know what you mean," said the lawyer, "but if you are in need
of money I am flush."

"It's not that, my dear boy," said the uncle, shaking him by the hand.
"I'll tell you all about it afterwards."

"All right," responded the nephew. "I stand treat, Uncle Joseph; what
will you have?"

"In that case," replied the old gentleman, "I'll take another sandwich.
I daresay I surprise you," he went on, "with my presence in a
public-house; but the fact is, I act on a sound but little-known
principle of my own--"

"O, it's better known than you suppose," said Michael sipping his brandy
and soda. "I always act on it myself when I want a drink."

The old gentleman, who was anxious to propitiate Michael, laughed a
cheerless laugh. "You have such a flow of spirits," said he, "I am sure
I often find it quite amusing. But regarding this principle of which I
was about to speak. It is that of accommodating one's-self to the
manners of any land (however humble) in which our lot may be cast. Now,
in France, for instance, every one goes to a cafe for his meals; in
America, to what is called a 'two-bit house'; in England the people
resort to such an institution as the present for refreshment. With
sandwiches, tea, and an occasional glass of bitter beer, a man can live
luxuriously in London for fourteen pounds twelve shillings per annum."

"Yes, I know," returned Michael, "but that's not including clothes,
washing, or boots. The whole thing, with cigars and occasional sprees,
costs me over seven hundred a year."

But this was Michael's last interruption. He listened in good-humoured
silence to the remainder of his uncle's lecture, which speedily branched
to political reform, thence to the theory of the weather-glass, with an
illustrative account of a bora in the Adriatic; thence again to the best
manner o