can most naturally affect surprise and regret when
it suits his purposes, and Mr. Snivel is well learned in the art.
"True!" he says, "as I'm a Christian. Well, I had made a man of him--I
don't regret it, for I always liked him--and this is the end of the poor
fellow, eh?" Turning to McArthur, he adds, rather unconcernedly: "You
know somewhat of him?" The old man sits motionless beside his daughter,
the changes of whose countenance discover the inward emotions that
agitate her bosom. Her eyes fill with tears; she exchanges inquiring
glances, first with Keepum, then with Snivel; then a thought strikes her
that she received a letter from Tom, setting forth his prospects, and
his intention to return in the ship above named. It was very natural
that news thus artfully manufactured, and revealed with such apparent
truthfulness, should produce a deep impression in the mind of an
unsuspecting girl. Indeed, it was with some effort that she bore up
under it. Expressions of grief she would fain suppress before the enemy
gain a mastery over her--and ere they are gone the cup flows over, and
she sinks exhausted upon the sofa.

"There! good as far as it goes. You have now another mode of gaining the
victory," Mr. Snivel whispers in the ear of his friend, Keepum; and the
two gentlemen pass into the street.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

IN WHICH A LAW IS SEEN TO SERVE BASE PURPOSES.

Maria has passed a night of unhappiness. Hopes and fears are knelling in
the morning, which brings nothing to relieve her anxiety for the absent
one; and Mr. Snivel has taken the precaution to have the news of the
lost ship find its way into the papers.

And while our city seems in a state of very general excitement; while
great placards on every street corner inform the wondering stranger that
a mighty Convention (presided over by the Hon. S. Snivel) for dissolving
the Union, is shortly to be holden; while our political world has got
the Union on its shoulders, and threatens to throw it into the nearest
ditch; while our streets swarm with long, lean, and very hairy-faced
delegates (all lusty of war and secession), who have dragged themselves
into the city to drink no end of whiskey, and say all sorts of foolish
things their savage and half-civilized constituents are expected to
applaud; while our more material and conservative citizens are thinking
what asses we make of ourselves; while the ship-of-war we built to fight
the rest of the Union, lies an ug