l‘I. TE E F Y, Esq†IVOTAB Y PUBLIC, SUMMISSIONEH IN THEQUEEN‘S BENCH, CONVEYANCER. AND DIVISION COURT AGENT, DRUGS, MEDICINES, COR. 0F YONGE AND CDLBURNE STS., THORNH ILL. By Royal Letters patently has been appointed Issuer of CON VE YANCER, (ï¬e. OEFICEâ€"over the Gas Company oflice Toronto Street, Toronto. R, HOSTETTER’S numerous frinnds wrll please accept lllS sincere thanks to! their liberal patronage and prompt payment. and would announce that he will continue to devote t ‘e whole of his attemion to the prac- tice ofMedicrne. Surgery and Midwifery. All calls. (night or day,) promptly amended to. Mr. H. Burket is authorised to collect, and give receipts for him. Consultations in the ofï¬ce on the mornings of Tuesdavs, Thulsdays and Saturdays. 8 to N u. m. D’AII consultations in the 011108, GEO. B. NICOL, BARRIS TER, A TTORNEYâ€"A T-LA W, OFFICEâ€"«In the “ York Herald†Buildings, Richmond Hill. A“ advertisements published for a less period than one momh, must be paid forin advance‘ All transitory advertisements, from strangers orirregulnrcustomers. must he paid for when handed in for inser‘ion. \/ ILL ven l'vlly he found. at home befme half-past 8 a.m. and from 1 to ‘2 p m. All parties owing Dr. J. Langstafl‘m‘e expect- ed to call and pay promptly, as he has payâ€" mants now that must be met. Nopap’er discontinued until all arrearages are plid: and paniesrei‘using papers without paying up, will be held accountable for the subscription. Six lines and under, ï¬rstinsertion. . . . $00 5“ Each subsequent insertion.... .... .... (H) {3 Ten lines and undm. ï¬rslinsertion. . . . 00 75 Each subsequent Insertion. . . . . .. . . . .. 00 ‘20 Above ten lines, first insertion. per line. ()I) ()7 Each Subsequent insertion. per line. . . . ()ll ()2 One Column par twelve monthsf. . ... - 50 “U Halfacolnmn do do 30 00 Quartet of u colu mn pertwelve months. 20 ()0 One column pet six months.. . . . . . . . . 4r) ()0 Halfacolumn do . 2500 Quarter ofa column per six months. . .. 18 0|! A card often lilles,f01‘01myeal‘.. . . . . 4 U0 Acard ol‘ï¬fleen lines, do ....... 5‘25 A card oftwenty lines, do . . . . . . . 6 50 FAdvertisemenls without wriiten directions nserted {ill forbid, and charged accordineg FHA RM ACEUTI ST, EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, And dispatched to subsci‘ibers b) the earliest mails.or other conveyance, when so desired. The YORK HERALD will always be found to containthelatest and most importantForeign and Provincial News and Markets, and the greatest care will be taken to renderit ac- ceptable to the man ofbusiness.and a valu- able Family Newspaperk TERMS:â€"One Dollar per annum. IN AD- VAME; if notpaid within Two Months, One Dollar and Fifty cents will be charged. Allletturs [addressed to the Editor must be post-paid. P Barristers and Attorneys at Law, Soiicitors in Chancery, CONVEYANCERS, Ssc. OFFICEâ€" In the Court House, . .TORONTO August 1, 1866. 59 Cash. Than-“hill. June 9,1865 READ AND BOYD, Barristers, Attorneys at Law, SOLXCITORS IN CHANCERY, &c., 77. King Street East, rover Thompson’s East India House) RICHMOND HILL POST OFFlCE. GREEN} ENTS, Bonds, Deeds, Morlgages. [X Wills, &c , &c.,druwn with attention nd promplilude, Terms moderate. {ichmoud Hill. June 9,1865. 1 BARRISTER AT LAW, GM): {with germ Thornhill, Feb. .6, 1868 RlCHMOND HILL, Richmond Hill. Jun. 3], 1867 Toronto. August 1, 1867. Richmond Hill, June. 1865 Elgin Mills, Oc‘ober 5, 1866 Money to Lend July, 5th‘1866. n. 13- READ, Q.c‘ May 6. 1867. ' RATES OF ADVERTISING. DRUG-GIST, CONVEYANGER, &c., &c., &c {Busiueaa Eirccturg. GROCERIES, Wines and Liquors, ’I‘HORNHILL. MONABB, MURRAY 82 JACKES, MARRIAGE LICEAVSES. DR. JAS. LANGSTAFF JOHN N. REID, M.D., THOMAS CARR, SOLICITOR IN CHANCERY, flaw QEarhz. Toronto . J. N. BLAKE, R. H. HALL, LER IN IS PUBLXSHED AN D J. A. BOYD. LA. 40-tf 3 5 DAVID EYER, Jun, Slave $1; Shingle ilanufacturer ' ES! [MINCEâ€"Lot ‘26. 2nd Con. Markham 1 0n the [Claim Mills Plank Road. Alargo Stock ut'S‘mvncs undSmNGLES. kept constantly on hand.andsold at the lowest. Prices 113’ (In!) and oxamiueStock before purchasâ€" ingelsewhm'e. l’usl 011100 Addressâ€"~Richmond Hill. ALL KINDS 011‘ Building Materials Supplied ! l’ust Oiï¬ce address, Yorkville. Toronto, May 18, 1868. 3-11], Pmiios requiring EVIL Sandm'son’s services can make arrangements at the HERALD ofï¬ce. GEO. MCPHILLIPS 85 SON, vaincial Land Surveyors, Rosidenceâ€"â€"Lot 20,1‘earof’3rd Concession of Markham. l’,0.Address-â€"Buttouville. JAMES BOWMAN, Issuer of Marriage Licenses, ALMIRA MILLS, LUMBER MERCHANT, THOMAS SED MAN, Carriage and Waggon Maker! UNDER TAKE’IB, d’cc. EDW. SANDERSON, Licensed Auctioneer, Doors, Sash, Flooring Markham , Nov. 1,1865 L'ORLhe Counties of York, l’eeland 0n- » ‘ tario. Residence: Lona, Gth coucess.0n Markham. l’osl Ofliceâ€"Unionville. Saies attended on the shortest notice, and on reasonable terms. Orders left at the “ Herald" ofï¬ce for Mr CflI'LUl"E services will be promptly attended to Jnno,‘27. 1057. r{esidenceâ€"â€"Nearly opposite the Post Ofï¬ce Richnond Hill. Ringwood JVIm'Me “Forks P4 WLEMAN, STRONG, EDGAR .sa GRAHAME, BARRISTERS AND SOLICITORS MMUMENTS, HEADSNNES ! &c. &c. &c. Call and examine my Stock and Prices bev for purchasing elsewhere, as you will ï¬nd it 10 your interest. 01? Issuer of Illwrriagc Licenses. illngood. Sept. 13, 1867 . 479 s. H. STRONG. J. n. EDGAR Toronto. June 18. 1568. '5 ) ENDENCE, Lot No. 14. 2nd C04. Vaughan Post. (Juice Address Carville. All orders left at the "' York Herald†ofï¬cm Riclnuonu Hill, 01' at [116 EU. Maple, will be attended [0. Farmer’s Boot 8; shoe Store OFF]Clcsâ€"VVellington Chambers, Jordon St 'I‘m'omo. FRANCIS BUTTON, JR, LICENSED AUCTIONEER, Sales attended on the shortest notice at moderate rates. P.O. Address, Buttonville. ICENSEI) AUU'I‘IONEER for tho coun- J lies at York and Peely Collector of News, AUCK)LII.L\‘,X1(:, Small charges and plumy In do Lashes; March 2nd 1805 :‘9-1 H. D. BENNETT, LICENSED AUCTIONEER, JOHN CARTER; LICENSED AUCTIONEER, BOOTS & SHOES, 38 West Market Square. Toronto [13" Boots and Shoes made to Measure, of the Bust Maierials and Workmanshiy, at the Lowest Remuneratiug Prices. June 7,1865. Junuary 4. 1865, AND BLI'ILDEB, 618 Yonge Street, Toronto. Vangimu, Out. 10 1857 NEW SERIES. Markham, Jany 24, 1868 Toronto, Dec. 3. 1867. flitcuscb ï¬nttiouzsrï¬. Manufacturer and Dealer in all kinds of June 1865 COUNTIES OF YORK AND PEEL. Vol. EX, No.26. MANUFACTURER OF ALL Kl COUNTY OF YORK. FOR THE COUNTY 015' YORK RICHMOND VHILL AND YONGE ST. GENERAL ADVERTISER. HENRY SHIELSOR, S EAFORTH, C. \V JOHN BARRON, P. A. SCOTT, 310 uldings &c. FOR THE FOR THE Blinds, a}; R. GRAHAME Sheeting; 4904/ l-H' 497 22 31 ‘ WHPl‘e did it happen this time .7’ asked Jim. Just t’other side Spondon, You know Deadman’s Line? Well, that Were the exact spat.’ ‘Who else should it be in this part, of the cuumrv? It was the same black mare with a while star that I’ve seen twice afore. and with the same Mack fellow astride herâ€"â€" as black as Old Nick himselfhe is, from top to tee, and a rare good rider 100.’ my, as he slid his foot out of the stirrup, and dismounted. ‘va- man inside has had his purse and waich-faked, and a nice Iempe: he’s in.’ ‘Ay. ay! An this time again?’ Jim’s powers of conversation beâ€" ing of a limited order, he resorted 10a long low whistle, by way of expressing his interest and surprise at the news told him bV his lriendand then went on with his work. Meanwhile, the strsnger inside the chaise had been released, by an obsequious waiter, and ushered in- to the shut-up coffeeâ€"room, 1n the grate of which a remnant of ï¬re still lingered. The candles were relighted. and then the landlord came in person to take the orders of his guesl. mm [1 family hotel and posting- house in {he ancient town of Derby. ‘ Another touch of We high toby again. Jim,’ remarked the postilion conï¬demlally to his friend the host- ‘Would the gentleman like to have a ï¬re lighted in a private sit- !ing-room? It could be done in ï¬ve minutes,’ he said. At precisely ï¬ve minutes to twelve o’clock, on a certain Oclober nigh' in the last decade of the 10.81 century, a post-chaise drove up 10 the door of the Brown Bear, 3 well- ‘ Thank you; not lo-night,’ said the stranger. ‘ln the morning, I will look at your moms. For the present, this one will do excellent lyâ€"Supper, did you say? Yes; bring me a crust of home-made bread, and a mug of your best old ale. And then to bed.’ By this time, he had laid aside his long blue fur-collared travelling cloak, and his fur travelling-cap, and stood revealed as a brighl~eyed. treshncoloured, middle-aged gentle- man, with the not-to-be-mistaken air nfa milllary man, although his present dress was that of a civilian; Will] iron-gray, unpowdered hair, cut short in from, but worked into a queue behind; and w1th small, THERE’S N0 SAE MUCKLE ODDS 0’ FOLK. Hypucrisy I hate, And slander I detest Fauts shouldna a’ be telt, Nor mine amang the rest; When one reviles another, The judgment has a. blink. Sae there’s nae sac muckle odds 0’ folk As ane wad think. A’ hae their draff peck, Some hingin’ sair, nae doobt, And ithers primed and patched VVi’ mony a steek and cloot; I am nearly fou. Just Iipin wi’ zhe brink, Sac there’s nae sae muckle odds 0’ folk As ane wad think. The laird 0’ Birrlie Ha’, He’s an elder o’ the kirk, He says he (Janna thole This odious drucken work ; But he was fun yestreen, And fell into the sink, Sae there’s no sae muckle odds 0’ folk As aue wad think. A BLACK MARE WWW .. WHITE STAR. Aye night no lang sinsyne, When I had got a dmppie, Coming hume at e’en, Unco fou and happy, I chanced to meet Mess John, Who blamed me for the drink, But there’s nae sae muckle odds 0’ folk As one wad thmk. Next Friday i’ the Loom, I saw the revd. man, Gang stottin’ frae an 11m, That fou he scarce could gang, I stepit up to him, And wi’ a. gey sly Wink, says sir, There’s no sae muckle odds 0’ folk As ane wad think. My nameis drucken Pate, And that may a’ be true, I neither beg nor steal, Although I’m sometimes fou; I’m neither lame 1101' lazy, And I peye for what I drink, And there’s no see muckle odds o’folk As aue wad think. IN TWO CH APTERS-CHAI’A gmmm. a9an “ Let Sound Reason wag/z more with us than, Popular Opinion.†And it was the one RICHMON D HILL, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1868. 'No indeed, sir: not by a dozen, or more than that. Hardly a single month has passed during any win- ter these three years without our hearing tell ol at least one person meetan the same fate that belell you, sir, tonight. One time, it was one of our most respected merchants returning borne frorna party with fty guineas in his pocket which he had won at whist. Another time, It was the Dean of Lichlleld who was stopped Mr. Dean was eased of watch, sntlfr‘bux and purse. Next time it was LndyKnutslord and lier two daughters, who were stopped as they were on their way home from a ball at the assembly rooms. Her Ladvship‘s necklace and rings were said to be worth six hundred pounds. These and a dozen other robberies of less note. all perper- tratted by the same man, with a blackened face, ahd mounted on a black mare that has a whire star in the middle of. its forehead. have kept our little town in quite ferment lor some time past. and have driven our chief-constable to the. verge of despair. lhelieve that you, sir, are the ï¬rst that has been stopped this season, and it is a Sign that winter is setting in. Tom Croolte, an auctioneer of this town, was the last man that was robbed last sea- son, and his little aflalr happened about the beginning of April,’ "I‘om Crooke 1â€"] think 1 re- collect lhat name’, muilered the stranger below his breath. 'Yes, sir,7 resumed the voluble landlord: ‘ and it is a. singular fact that all these robberies, the work of one man, are committed within a radius of twelve miles lrom this town; now on the London Road, now on the Ashhourne Road, now on the Dulï¬eld Road. The rider of the black mare with the white star seems 10 be here, there. and everywhere, and to be wonderful lucky in picking out as his victims people having about them some- thing worth taking. When he has done his little bit of business he seems to vanish as mysteriously as he came. and is never heard of again, either there or elsewhere, till he turns up suddenly. a few weeks later, nota dozen miles from the same spot. Ah. sir, he’s a shrewd fellow, he is, whatever his name may be when he’s at home. That much 1 couldâ€"gee By the Ifgï¬t of lhe chaise-larnps.’ The stranger draw a chair up to the ï¬re, and sal down. He was evidonliy interested. ‘You say. landlord, [flat I am not the ï¬rst who has been robbed bv this fellow 1’ The landlord and the waiter ex- changed looks. ' Sotrv, I‘m sure. sir, to hear at your accident,’ said the former in a tone of respect- ful sympathy. ‘ For the last three years, the neighbourhood at this town has been inlested by one of the biggest villians un- hnng; and you, sir. are neither the ï¬rst nor the second that has suffered in like manner at his hands. A clcvnr villian he is, too; and, so far, has set all the constables in the country at deï¬ance. Did You notice sir. whether or not his lace was blackened?’ ‘ Either a Mack or a v’ery dark bay one; a horse with a la"! )Nhite f‘éiigggg,‘ ‘The very samé man,’ said the land'nrd emphatically. ‘I did,†said the stranger. ‘He wore no mask of anv kind, such as I have heard that higliwaymen cus- tomarin wear by way ofdisguise. His face was perfectly black, either nalurallv or artiï¬cially so 7’ ‘ And he rode a bldck horse, did he not. sir P’ 'A pretty welcome to one's na- tive town !’ he beganâ€"a Very- pretty welcome indeed, after an absence at ï¬ve and thirty-years, to be set upun by a rnï¬ian, and have to de- cide at a moment’s notice between giving up one’s purse and having a bullet through one’s brain' I had better never have lett the Canadas.’ He spoke in a cantons, high-pitch ed v<~1ee,and as if he were more an- noyed than angered at what had be- lallen himâ€"less troubled by the loss of his pllrSS than by the fact of his having been compelled to yield it up without a struggle, gray, mutton-chop whiskers. Judg~ ing by the frown on his otherwise pleasantâ€"hmking izrce‘ he was un- mistakably our of lempur; but i! was nor until he had broken the smoulderi'ng lump of coal in the grate into minute fragments, and thereby relieved his overcharged feelings, that he vouchsafed an ex- planation to the landlord. he had headed 55 many forlorn hopes in his time. But where’s the shavmg-water T’ ‘ He looks as quiet and peaceable as a lamb.’put in the major’s man: ‘ that’s just him all over. A quiet, pious, God-fearing gentleman in time of peace; bill just see him go- ing into action at the head 01 his men, and it would do Vour eyes good, and make your hair stand on end at the same time. His men knew he was made of the right stuff, and would follow him any- whcre. He was called “ Forlorn" Gregson in the regiment because When Major Gregson drew up his blinds next morninmand peered out of his bedroom window, he saw before him the old fashioned market place ot the little town, which. as a boy, he had troodden many hun- dreds of times. It was the old market-place that he remembered so well, but. with many changed features, as wasonly to he expected after the wear and tear of the thirty- ï¬ve years that hatl‘ elapsed since he last saw it With the assistance of his pocket telescope, he could make out the names on the signs over the diï¬erent shops. Nearly all of them Were strange to him, but there were two or three that he recollected as old tamin names in the town; andâ€"~yes! there was one that he remembered as the name of an old school~fellow. It was the same name that had struck so familiarly on his ear when men- tioned last night by the landlord. Major Gregson read the sign again, slole and carefully: ‘Thomas Crooke, Auctioneer and Valuer, Hnuse and Estate Agent.’ :Now Icall it to mind,’ said the landlord, 'he did say something last night about Derby being his nmive place. But he the brave Major Gregson' the great ï¬re enter! Why, he don’t stand more than ï¬ve foot seven without his boots, andâ€"and.’ ‘ Major Gregeson l’ exclaimed the astonished landlord, early next rimming, reading the name on sun~ dry boxes and pacdages which had just. been brought in by the night- carrier from Nottingham. ‘ Why, surely he can never be the Major Gregson who fought so bravely in India and America~the son of old . 163,59"). liwnflmmd this ‘ But he can be, and is, and, the best masters in the world into the bargain" said the Major’s man as he stepped into the bar.’ ‘ And I’ll thank you. Mr. Landlord, to tell me the number of his room, tor it’s high sime I took him up his shav- ing water.’ ‘Poor Tom Crookel’ said the major as he shut up his glass, and prepared to slrop his razors. ‘A little dark-eyed chap, always in a row; several years younger than me; in fact] was only at the school one halfyearflatter he came. lowrf I recollect him s'o Wéll by reason 01 his great ï¬ght with Scroggins. And now he’s an auctioneer. What queer ‘i cannot sleep shut in by those things,’ said the stranger. indicating the funeral-looking curtains that shut in the immense four-posters ; ‘ and the room smells as if the win- dow had not been opened for a month.’ Ultimately, the stranger decided to have the mattress laid upon the floor, and sieep on that, which he though he might possibly succeed in doing, provided the window were left open both at top and bottom, so that the cold fresh air of the October night could have free play in and out of the room. Then the landlord bowed and re- tired, and the stranger proceeded to the discusion of his homelv supper. When he had drained the last drop of ale in the tankard, he wiped his mouth carefully with his bandana handkerchief. and put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. Then he produced from the pocket of his cloak a small dogs-eared Bible, bound in plain calf; and drawing the pair of candles close to hls nose, he proceeded to read a chapter be- fore retiring for the night. He read slowly and deliberately with a movement ofthe lips as he repeated each word to himself, and with a slight movement 01 the head as his eyes went on from one line to the next. When he had done reading, he meditated silently for a tew . . l minutes, and then rang tor a bed-t candle. l ‘Which is no consolation to me [or the loss of my purse,’ murmur- ed the stranger. ‘ By and by, he found himself on the banks of the pleasant clear- running Derwent. Fresh food lor meditation here. Recollections of happy boyish days when he and his companions used to come bathing here; of boating excursions; of Sunday evening walks with his mother in yonder meadows, along a path that followed every bend and turn of the river, till one bv one by one the stars came out and the tower of All Saints took the evening mists to itself. and became a part of them. How all these came back to him. At length he turned away with a Sigh. and strolled back towards the busier parts of the town. Over a shop- door, in St. Peter’s Street, he saw painted up: cSampson Clowes. Tailor and Draper.’ Major Gregson came to a stand on the opposite side of the street, and had a quiet laugh to himsell. ‘ What! old Sampson h tailor" he said. "I‘he biggest glulton in the school, and not tar of being the biggest dunce; the boy who made himself ill with smoking bits of cane; the boy who made such a hullabaloo when he sat down on a lump of cobbler’s wax, and found himself stuck fast to the form. Oh. I must go and See old Sampson !‘ Major Gregson crossed the road. and entered the shop. There was no one in it but a sloulï¬abbv-faced man, who was busy casting up a ledger. The Major's hat came oH' wim a ceremonious sweet). ‘I presume l have the pleasure of addressing Mr‘ Sampson Ciowes 1’ he said with an urbane smile’ When he had earned a crick in his neck with staring up at the towâ€" er, he went into the church-yard, and finding a side-door open, he presentlv entered the church itself. As far as the major could see, he and the dead had the whole edihce to themselves, and he was not sorry that it should be so. Going into of the many high-backed pews, he shut himself in, and then, alter a briel prayer he opened a Bible, and pulling on his spectacles he read the lessons for the day. Then, after a quarter of an hour devoted to silent meditation, he let himself out ot the pew,and taking possession of his hat he walked out with hush~ ed footsteps. toeling greatly refresh- ed in spirit. ‘ I am Ml. Clowes,’ said Ihe flab- by man, looking up from his ledger w1th a sort of dog in-lhe-manager expression. ‘ And I am Major Gregson. Issac Gregson’s snn Ihat used to be of this town. You and I Mr. Clowes, were school-boys together. The flabe man, chewing his quill viciously. took a moment or two to digest misinformation ; then he spoke, ‘ Well what of that .7’ he said. ‘ Merely Ibis,’ said the Major with his airest manner; ‘ that hav- ingjust returned to my native town, after an absence of ï¬ve and thirty years, and seeing your name over \he door, I suddenly remembered So the major, with his chest thrown forward, and his chin well up; with one arm resting in the small 01 his back, while the other flourished his malaoca; and with quick sharp glances that allowed but little to escape them, paraded the town lor full a couple of hours. Now and then he would halt {or a minute or two at the corner of some street, to take the bearings of the country, and to note what altera- tions had been made during the years that he had been away. The noble tower of All Saints held him witha chain 01 sweeth solemn memories for a long time. ‘I might have left it but ï¬ve minutes ago, for any change that I ‘can see in its grand old face,’ muttered the major under his breath" ‘ The change isin mySelfâ€"in mysell.’ ‘ I‘ll take a turn around the town, and call agam later on,’ said Major Gregson to the boyâ€"‘ Perhaps I may be able to hunt up one or two more old friends,’ he added to him- self. Accordinglymo sooner was break fast over than the major taking his silver-mounted malaca. sauntered acress the market place as far as the ofï¬ce of Mr. Thomas Crooke. In answer to his inquiry, a dingy ofï¬ce-boy informed him that Mr. Crooke had not yet arrived, and that he was not expected till to- wards noon. changes the whiligig of lime brings about? I must call and see Tom after breakfast.’ TERMS $1.00 IN ADVANCE. Whole No. 541. WITTY 'THOUGH WEARY.â€"An honegt Hibernian whose bank pocket. to use his own phrase, had stopped payment, was forc- ed to the necessity of perambulating the 'streets two nights together for the want of a. few pence to pay his lodgings, when accidentally hearing a person talk of the lying-in~hospital, he cried, “that the place for me, for Ihave been lying out those two nights past.†This time Mr. Croolte was in, and Major Gregson was ushered into a smuli inner ofï¬ce, dusty and unSWept. placarded with the bills of past and gone auctions, and pre- vadcd by a musty tap-room odour, as though the atmosphere had not yet been purged of the fumes of last night’s grog and tobacco. The tenant of the den was a long- limbed, broad-chested man of forty ï¬ve; dark complexioned; clean shaven; with a crafty vulturine face, and bright, furtive. quick- glancing black eyes. He was well and fasnionably dressed, and were two or three rings of price; but his hands might have beeh cleaner; and his clothes were mud-stained, and wine stained, and seemed as if they had not been brushed for a. month. Major Gregson, in slow courte- ous accents, explained the reason of his visit, which he hoped Mr. Crooke would consider neither an timely nor misplaced. Mr. Crooke was evidently at a. loss how to sum up the visitor. All the time the major was addressing hitn.hts black suspicious eyes were taking note of the old soldier from head to foot. It was something entirely out of the range of his experience to ï¬nd a man claiming acquaintance with him on the score of an old school lrientlship of thirty years ago. But Mr. Crooke was by no means devoid of perception. and had considerable powers of adaptability;and bv the time the ma jor had ï¬nished his little httrrangue, he had arrived at a tolerabv correct notion of the role it behaved him to play in the little drama in which he was so unexpedtedy cast for a leading part. But the doctor’s hoxpitable offer wds declined, and the major got out of the house as quickiy as pos- sible. ‘ Not the sort of man for me.’ said the major with a shake of the head as soon as he was om into the street; ‘by no means the sort. of a man for me. [think I will go and look up Tom Crooke.’ ‘Very probably not,’ said the major grimly. ‘Such being the case. what is the end that all philosophy teaches us ’l To deck the brows of Plutus with flowers; to mix business and plersure in just pro-v portions; to scrape together as many guineas as we possibly can, and en« joy to the lull the goods which the gods provide 135. And, this brirt s to my mind the fact thatï¬m prime haunch of Welsh mutton for dinner 10-day, and if you will take a knife and fork with me, Major, 1 shall be most happy. Dr. Cropper wzis a very little man, pert and 'voluble. He recol- ‘lecled the major' in a moment. and shook him cordially by lhs hanol. ‘Old Issac Gregsou's son, to be sure. School-lads together, and all'lhat. I remember you well. sir; youhave risemo eminence.while we poor beggars have been vegetating here. We have seen your name in the newspapers, sir. and the old town is proud of her son. Glad to ï¬nd you lhink oi senllng in the neighbourhood. Otium cum digniâ€" tatc, and all that you know. Recol- lections of one"s boyhood. as a. rule, are all humbug. Life is full of humbug. If you can’t con- trive lo‘do' the World will ‘do,’ you. That’s my mono. Also, lake care of number one. That's another. TWO-Ihil‘tis of humbng to one of nlilinâ€"lhat's the rule in every pro- fession. Look at me. I’m a hum- bug. Ha, hal But the world be- lieves in me, and l pocket my fees. I daresay if the truth was known, major (no offence. you know), you yourself are not l'arlrom a humbug -â€"eh 'l’ l Ten minutes later ‘Forlorn" Gregson emerged into the street, looking very forlorn Indeed, leaving in the measurement-book of Mr. Clowes sundry. cabalistic ï¬gures writen under his name, havmg re- lation to ‘ one pair of superï¬ne black kerseymere small: ’ So the. major went on his travels about the town- rather more disconsolutely than heretofore. He was somevt hat cheered, however. by the sight of ‘another name that he. recongnised» on a brassâ€"plate on the door of a. house in one at the most intensely respectable streets of the town :: ‘ Dr. Rufus Cropper.’ The flabby man seemed to grasp for breath. ‘ It may be as you say sir,’ he returned. ‘ I daresay u is. But my school boy days are to far! gone past for a plain business man like me to recollect much abori ’em. Just got our stock ul wintel goods in; and here’s my young man, who will be happy 10 show you our lalesi novellies.’ it as the name 01 one of my oldé school fellows, and coulduot lesist the impulse] fell to come in and) see you.’ (To be Continued.)