an could fully appreciate; it was a stroke of business
that touched him to the heart, and made him feel proud of his "dear
James."

"But how will you manage about waiting at table?" asked Solomon of his
son as they strolled out together to smoke their cigars on the little
bridge by the hotel. "I am afraid that you will betray your ignorance,
and break down when you come to be put to the test."

"Never fear; I shall pull through somehow," answered James. "I am not so
ignorant on such matters as you may suppose. Geary used to say that I
did the flunkey business better than any man he ever had at the Tabard:
I have always been celebrated for my footmen. Of course I am quite aware
that the real article is very different from its stage counterfeit, but
I have actually been at some pains to study the genus in its different
varieties, and to arrive at some knowledge of the special duties it has
to perform. One of our supers had been footman in the family of a
well-known marquis, and from him I picked up a good deal of useful
information. Then, whenever I have been out to a swell dinner of any
kind, I have always kept my eye on the fellows who waited at table. So
what with one thing and what with another, I don't think I shall make
any very terrible blunders."

"I hope not, or else Mr. Cleon will give you your _conge_, and that will
spoil everything. Further, as regards the mulatto, I have a word or two
to say to you. It is quite evident to me that he is the presiding genius
at Bon Repos. If you wish to retain your situation you must pay court to
him far more than to M. Platzoff, with whom, indeed, it is doubtful
whether you will ever come into personal contact. You must therefore, my
dear boy, swallow your pride for the time being, and take care to let
the mulatto see that you regard him as a patron to whose kindness you
hold yourself deeply indebted."

"All that I can do, and more, to serve my own ends," answered the son.
"Your words are words of wisdom, and shall live in my memory."

Mr. Madgin stopped with his son till summoned by the whistle of the last
steamer. The two bade each other an affectionate farewell. When next
they met it would be as strangers.

Mr. Cleon and the landlord were enjoying the cool of the evening and
their cigars outside the house as Mr. Deedes walked up to The Jolly
Fishers. He stopped for a moment to speak to them.

"I had a note this morning from my friend Mr. Madgin, of Deepley Walls,"
h