me," replied Pat;
adding with a most provoking air of simplicity, "but may I ask did you
ever hear your poor mother say whether the Indian overtook her or not?"

The last night I acted here was made memorable by the jovial condition
of a couple of the leading members of the corps dramatic, and as it
chanced, diplomatic. The play was "The Irish Ambassador," and the first
news I had of my principal colleague, his Excellency the representative
of his most Catholic Majesty, was, that he had arrived, but in a state
unfit for our purposed conference, having been rendered utterly
incapable by an imprudent application of gin cock-tail, prescribed, as
his Excellency himself assured me with tears in his eyes, as a sovereign
remedy for a disorganized state of nerves, to which he was unhappily
subject.

An excuse was made for the unavoidable absence of the Spanish minister,
on the score of ill-health; and the indulgence of the meeting requested
for one of the _attaches_, who had boldly undertaken to read the absent
diplomatist's instructions at first sight. This point got over, we
proceeded smoothly, as might be expected, until the period when his
Highness the Grand-duke was required in person, when it became evident
that, through sympathy or some cause less sentimental, the Prince too
was royally rocky: availing himself of his rank however, he made shift
to reach a chair, and, aided by the support it afforded, maintained his
place at the conference.

Nothing could exceed the charitable forbearance with which this
republican assemblage looked upon the fallen condition of royalty:
whether they judged that it was no way out of character for a German
sovereign and the possessor of a hock-cellar to be fuddled, or whether
they considered that this was no bad specimen of royalty to exhibit to
their children's contempt, I know not; but, happily, the signs of their
displeasure fell lightly on his Highness, and our negotiation was at
length, though lamely, brought to a conclusion.

On Tuesday the 8th of April, at eight o'clock P.M. I once more took my
place in the Good Intent, to re-cross the Alleghanies; when, turning our
backs upon the River of Beauty, we slowly traversed the dark streets of
its sooty neighbour; for, strange to tell, although the material for gas
lies at their doors in exhaustless abundance, and although they use a
great quantity of coal-coke for manufacturing purposes, the streets
remain as dark as the extremity of t