ration of a
skull-cap as a becoming ornamental addition to a hat, announced, with a
bow of mock politeness, his anxiety to feel the quality of the velvet.
He stretched out his hand as he spoke, not a word of warning or
expostulation being uttered by the victim of the intended insult; but
the moment his fingers touched the skull-cap, the strange man, still
without speaking, without even removing his cigar from his mouth, very
deliberately threw all that remained of the glass of hot brandy and
water before him in the rickety gentleman's face.

With a scream of pain as the hot liquor flew into his eyes, the
miserable little man struck out helplessly with both his fists, and fell
down between the benches. A friend who was with him, advanced to avenge
his injuries, and was thrown sprawling on the floor. Yells of "Turn him
out!" and "Police!" followed; people at the other end of the room jumped
up excitably on their seats; the women screamed, the men shouted and
swore, glasses were broken, sticks were waved, benches were cracked,
and, in one instant, the stranger was assailed by every one of his
neighbors who could get near him, on pretense of turning him out.

Just as it seemed a matter of certainty that he must yield to numbers,
in spite of his gallant resistance, and be hurled out of the door down
the flight of stairs that led to it, a tall young gentleman, with a
quantity of light curly hair on his hatless head, leapt up on one of the
benches at the opposite side of the gangway running down the middle of
the room, and apostrophized the company around him with vehement fistic
gesticulation. Alas for the tranquillity of parents with pleasure-loving
sons!--alas for Mr. Valentine Blyth's idea of teaching his pupil to be
steady, by teaching him to draw!--this furious young gentleman was no
other than Mr. Zachary Thorpe, Junior, of Baregrove Square.

"Damn you all, you cowardly counter-jumping scoundrels!" roared Zack,
his eyes aflame with valor, generosity, and gin-and-water. "What do you
mean by setting on one man in that way? Hit out, sir--hit out right and
left! I saw you insulted; and I'm coming to help you!"

With these words Zack tucked up his cuffs, and jumped into the crowd
about him. His height, strength, and science as a boxer carried him
triumphantly to the opposite bench. Two or three blows on the ribs, and
one on the nose which drew blood plentifully, only served to stimulate
his ardor and increase the pugilist