shionable pawnbroker, to accompany him to Liverpool, in
pursuit for a Levanting customer--for Balance, in addition to pawning, does
a little business in the sixty per cent. line. It rained in torrents when
the cab stopped at the passage which leads past the pawning boxes to his
private door. The cabman rang twice, and at length Balance appeared,
looming through the mist and rain in the entry, illuminated by his
perpetual cigar. As I eyed him rather impatiently, remembering that trains
wait for no man, something like a hairy dog, or a bundle of rags, rose up
at his feet, and barred his passage for a moment. Then Balance cried out
with an exclamation, in answer apparently to a something I could not hear,
"What, man alive!--slept in the passage!--there, take that, and get some
breakfast, for Heaven's sake!" So saying, he jumped into the "Hansom," and
we bowled away at ten miles an hour, just catching the Express as the
doors of the station were closing. My curiosity was full set--for although
Balance can be free with his money, it is not exactly to beggars that his
generosity is usually displayed; so when comfortably ensconced in a
_coupe_, I finished with--

"You are liberal with your money this morning: pray, how often do you give
silver to street cadgers?--because I shall know now what walk to take when
flats and sharps leave off buying law."

Balance, who would have made an excellent parson if he had not been bred
to a case-hardening trade, and has still a soft bit left in his heart that
is always fighting with his hard head, did not smile at all, but looked as
grim as if squeezing a lemon into his Saturday night's punch. He answered
slowly, "A cadger--yes; a beggar--a miserable wretch, he is now; but let me
tell you, Master David, that that miserable bundle of rags was born and
bred a gentleman; the son of a nobleman, the husband of an heiress, and
has sat and dined at tables where you and I, Master David, are only
allowed to view the plate by favor of the butler. I have lent him
thousands, and been well paid. The last thing I had from him was his court
suit; and I hold now his bill for one hundred pounds that will be paid, I
expect, when he dies."

"Why, what nonsense you are talking! you must be dreaming this morning.
However, we are alone, I'll light a weed, in defiance of Railway law, you
shall spin that yarn; for, true or untrue, it will fill up the time to
Liverpool."

"As for yarn," replied Balance, "the who