ular. I was greatly amused by one of his stories, which related
how a Scottish border-robber outwitted and plundered an English
professional brother. In his patriotic resolution to uphold the
superiority of his country in all respects, Browne was not even willing
to allow that the pilferers and marauders south of the Tweed, could at
all compare in address and audacity, with those who enjoyed the
advantage of having been bred to the north of it.

Max, too, was, (at least in Johnny's estimation), a famous story-teller,
almost equal in fact to Schehezerade, of the Thousand and One Nights.
His stories, however, were of an entirely different character from those
of Browne. They had no savour of historic or traditionary truth,--no
relation to actual life,--and in this consisted their great charm.
Their subject matter, was the wonderful exploits of bold knights-errant,
sallying forth, attended by their trusty esquires, in search of high
adventures; their chivalrous encounters with other knights in mortal
quarrel, or for the honours of the tourney; their incredible feats of
strength and valour in the rescue of captive maidens, wandering
princesses, and distressed damsels, from all sorts of unheard-of perils,
and in the redress of all manner of grievances, by whomsoever suffered.
In his more romantic flights he described exploits yet more perilous
than these,--conflicts with giants and ogres,--the storming and
demolishing of enchanted castles, defended by scaly griffins, and
fire-breathing dragons, backed by the potent spells and incantations of
some hostile magician. To such narratives Johnny would willingly listen
by the hour. Any trifling anachronisms or inconsistencies, which
sometimes occurred, never troubled him in the least. If some of Max's
knights, equipped with sword and shield, and sheathed in mail, were also
expert at fire-arms, and handled a rifle or a revolver, like a
Kentuckian, Johnny respected and admired them all the more on account of
these varied accomplishments, and never troubled the narrator with any
vexatious demand for explanations.

At first Max had been greatly piqued at the slight interest which Johnny
seemed to feel in the fate of his heroes. The fact was, that he had
become so familiar with that department of literature, and was so
accustomed to see the hero come safely out of the most horrible and
unheard-of dangers, that he regarded it as quite a matter of course, and
there was now no such