or Mancussi was a gentleman with an Italian name and a perfect
knowledge of English, who sang bass parts in a church up town, and
enjoyed the reputation of having personated the chief Druid in Norma, at
an early period of the New York opera. M. Bartin played one of numerous
violins at the Academy of Music, and was believed to be kept down only
by a powerful combination. Three months before this New Year's day, both
of these gentlemen had volunteered their services, in company with many
other musical people, to give a grand concert in aid of a benevolent
enterprise. To M. Bartin, as a man supposed to know something of sharp
management, from his connection with the opera, was intrusted the
supreme control of the whole affair. It is due to M. Bartin to say, that
he tried to perform his laborious duties faithfully and with perfect
justice to his associates.

When, therefore, in ordering the printing of the gigantic posters which
heralded the concert, he directed his own name to be placed at the head
of the "eminent artists who had offered their services for the
occasion," and in type half as large again as any of the rest, he only
expressed a conscientious opinion of his superiority over all of them.
In this opinion his associates happened to disagree with him, each one
claiming that himself, and nobody else, was entitled to typographical
precedence.

Most keenly was the alleged injustice felt by Signer Mancussi, who stood
at the foot of the sloping list in letters less than an inch long; and
he had made a solemn vow to revenge himself on M. Bartin the first time
that they met after the concert. Their simultaneous appearance at Mrs.
Slapman's was that time. M. Bartin had been privately informed of the
Signer's intentions, and regretted that that gentleman's ridiculous
vanity should get the better of his judgment. Seeing him at Mrs.
Slapman's, M. Bartin avoided the Signer's presence, fearing they might
come into a collision disgraceful to the time and the place. The Signer,
for the same considerate reasons, kept shy of M. Bartin. After dodging
each other for a long time, they were at last brought, by accident, face
to face. M. Bartin was calm. Signor Mancussi tried to be tranquil, but
those small, lean black letters at the foot of the list rose vividly to
his mind; and, before he could check himself, he had whispered, or
hissed, between his set teeth, the word,

"SCOUNDREL!"

M. Bartin was taken unawares, but had suffici