as if it made no difference whatever to it; and

remorselessly perhaps it did not.

The train, which had borne such precious freight thus far, had again renewed its onward course, just as if nothing unusual had occurred. A puff! a whiff! a scream! and it had gone bellowing forth into the darkness, lost to sight and hearing.

The few fellow-passengers that had alighted with him, had busied themselves with themselves, and gone their respective ways. Porters with plethoric trunks upon their shoulders, and twenty-fivecent pieces in prospective, had erst disappeared. Simultaneously, one omnibus and two cabs, with the average proportion of concomitants, human and equine, that go to make up the sum total usually found in such places.

Still stood Theophilus upon the station steps. The night was wintry. The biting north-easterly blast, as it blew in sharp, fitful gusts around the corner of the building, on the steps of which he stood, played sportively with the surplus broadcloth of his ample cloak; anon, with the flowing tresses, which the little militarylooking cap but very partially concealed, and settled ultimately, with characteristic spitefulness, in his very teeth.

The situation of our hero, (as we think we are now justified in calling him) although bordering on the romantic, was not by any means bordering on the comfortable. The chattering of his teeth, caused by the phenomenon already alluded to, aroused him from the sad reverie into which he had been plunged. He raised his eyes, and saw a light, a scintillating light, a light swinging hither and thither in the breeze, and apparently not far from the place where he stood. As he looked, it gradually assumed a palpable form and meaning to the obfuscated pannikel of Theophilus. Cavalierly raising the extreme corner of his cloak to his eyes, he dashed therefrom the gathering drops, and read:

SPREAD-EAGLE HOTEL:

ACCOMMODATION FOR MAN AND BEAST.

Visions of warmth and comfort within that happy 'Hostelrie,' with smiling faces sitting down to Brobdignagian dishes of smokinghot viands, flit fantastically before his distempered imagination. Reeking decoctions of ambrosial punches, filling the atmosphere with delicious incense, gleam athwart his mental optics, and in the excitement of the temporary illusion, he smilingly raises his ruby proboscis to snuff the savory aroma.

But the illusion was momentary. Then came the momentous question, commencing, "To be or not to be?' The necessity, urgent, imperious, of being a participator in such inviting fare, if such there were, if not, any other, was eloquently urged by an inconveniently empty stomach, in a series of motions, the which were

seconded as eloquently and as urgently by a frame shivering and shaking with the pitiless cold.

The question of ways and means next presented itself, and from thence arose a severe and embarrassing conflict. The shivering limbs and chattering teeth imploringly said, 'Go!' the empty stomach and parched throat clamorously said, 'Go!' and Theophilus was about impulsively to obey the pleasing behest, when hollow, sepulchral voices arrested his foot-steps. Issuing from each individual pocket-coat, vest, and pants-they mockingly, tauntingly said: 'Stay where you are, Theophilus.'

And there, and then upon the station steps, did Theophilus fall into a quandary. An embodiment of Lawrence's picture of Garrick between the Muses:' pulled at by one, and tugged at by the other. Despairingly he shook them off, drew firmly around him his expansive cloak, placed his classic chin gracefully upon the thumb and fore-finger of his right hand, while with the other he held the valise and umbrella; and thus he fell cogitating. And as he cogitated, his thoughts strayed back to the days of his youth, his happy youth, and of his home in Bath; and while there, they naturally reverted to the shop, behind the counter of which his unsophisticated minority was wont to be passed, dispensing cheese, and butter, and bacon in infinitesimal pennyworths, and also to the snuggery behind the shop, and the well-lined tea-table in the snuggery, on which he could plainly see the great vista of waters rolling between, to the contrary notwithstanding-the tea-urn hissing and gurgling, and the well-buttered muffins smoking and looking unctuous, and the tempting shrimps, and the tantalizing watercresses, and the whole singing in chorus: 'Come over, and eat us; come over, and eat us.' And as the vision passed away, he sighed, and said: 'Ah! me! and this was before I came to this blarsted wooden country!'

The handle of the valise is clutched with convulsive firmness, also the ditto of the umbrella. The martial cloak is drawn more firmly around him; the little military-looking glazed cap is pressed firmly down to his eyes; his breast is figuratively steeled to consequences, individually and collectively; and Theophilus prepares to throw himself under the pinions of the 'Eagle' aforesaid.

II.

MORNING, bleak and cold, dawns upon the two thousand five hundred inhabitants of the thriving, go-ahead little town of Creekville. Gusty, raw, and uninviting, it sends a shiver to the bone of ilk luckless one whose vocation demands him to face it. Doors and windows, yes, even key-holes, are hermetically sealed against it; for crevice cannot be too diminutive, nor chink too small to intercept the progress of the ubiquitous one.

The eagle, with extended wings, which hovers perpetually above the door-way of the inn that gives shelter and food, and, hem! etceteras to the hero of our former chapter, looks forlorn and

suffering, weather-beaten and hoary. With lack-lustre eye-balls, and a glistening icicle pendent from beak and tail and talon, it looks a veritable eagle doing penance. Forward, through the almost impenetrable vapors does it strain its weary eyes, as if арpealing to the elements themselves for pity and succor. But in vain, Ŏ rampant emblem of the free! Hadst been but flesh and blood, as nature did intend thee, before the craft of man made thee the miserable 'counterfeit presentment' that thou art, the deep cavity in the towering cliff would have been thy hidingplace from the merciless elements. As it is, thou art bought and paid for, fulfilling thine honest calling, thy destiny; and in thy case, there is no postponement on account of weather.

Within, there is warmth and comfort, genial and grateful. The few boarders, whom we see seated cosily around the crackling stove, appreciate their present comfortable position too thoroughly, to be inveigled from it by any mundane considerations. They are conversing in suppressed whispers, in twos and threes. An air of mystery and curiosity pervades each inquiring face, and every theory propounded as a solution of the matter on the tapis, by the accredited oracle of the room, is met and acknowledged by shrewd ejaculations, and ominous shakes and nods of their respectively wise heads. Need we mention that the subject is our friend Theophilus? As to who he is; what he is; where he comes from; and what he is doing here, there is no end of wonderment and speculation. Meanwhile, the interesting object on whose behalf so much inquiry is being hazarded, is seated snugly in the best parlor up-stairs, and apparently enjoying himself with all that dignified ease and grace so peculiar to himself. The valise has already disgorged its treasures. Our hero is encased in a dressinggown of richest hue and pattern- of course, Indian — while smoking-cap and slippers, of corresponding texture and pattern, lend their aid to complete the imposing tout ensemble.

In the same room, and seated opposite to Theophilus, engaged in earnest conversation with him, is another personage, whose portrait is worth sketching. In stature he is short and pursy, with a quick, twitching elasticity of movement. You can see it plainly in the way he smokes his segar. Spit, spit, quick or slow, according to the degree of excitement. In that respect, we need no better barometer, to enable us to judge of the state of his mental weather. It is unfailing. In complexion he is ruddy, with light sandy curly hair. Every smile and dimple on that mirth-provoking face, proclaims its owner to be a jolly good fellow; and if Phil Chuckle is not a jolly good fellow, then there is not a jolly good fellow in the jolly good town of Creekville, nor any where else. Phil Chuckle is of the Typo fraternity, editor and sole proprietor of the Creekville Blue Blast, a paper, as its heading imports, devoted disinterestedly to the interests Political, Agricultural, and Social of the good people of Creekville. Mr. Chuckle has, in his day and generation, filled many other capacities; and may be said to have here garnered home the many resources and appli

ances of his cosmopolitan experiences for the benefit of his fellowtownsmen. This fact, each issue of the Blue Blast amply verifies. The coming together of two such kindred, congenial spirits as Mr. Theophilus Sumpunk and Mr. Phil Chuckle, was but a very natural and not-to-be-wondered-at result. How could it be otherwise? The laws of attraction and cohesion order it so; and for two such to be in the same town, and under the expansive pinions of the same Spread Eagle,' without coming together, would have been a complete and total subversion of every law approved of and indorsed by that modern science. What was deficient in sympathy of feeling and spontaneity of sentiment at first, was soon made up by liberal douceurs of hot-stuff' on the part of Phil Chuckle, which generous treatment was rewarded as he designed it should be, by the implicit unbosoming of the joys and sorrows of Mr. Theophilus Sumpunk, whereto were added experiences of life which he had seen, and travels which he had not. Mr. Chuckle was made his confident, his unreserved reservoir; in return for which, offers generous and liberal- of assistance, interest, influence, and much more were made on the part of Mr. Chuckle, and received by Mr. Sumpunk with grateful avidity. Thus they shook hands and retired, each to his respective sleeping-apartment, with mutual feelings of liveliest friendship and esteem.

6

While Phil Chuckle was putting off his pantaloons that night, preparatory to jumping into bed, something struck him on the head, which made him incontinently slap his exposed knee, and cry, Eureka! It was an idea, a bright idea, which had steamed its way through the vapors of the hot-stuff' he had been drinking, till it had reached the upper regions of the head, where it had struck him, as averred. Having again slapped his knee, and tapered off with a series of gratulatory antics, Phil went to bed, to sleep on 't, to dream on 't. The consultation between the two worthies (at present) pertains to that idea. Let us turn our invisible-caps and listen.

'My dear Sumpunk,' reasons Mr. Phil Chuckle, 'you need have no delicacy in the matter; none whatever, I assure you. Were I in your place, gifted with the same deep melodious voice and handsome military appearance

'Oh! really, Chuckle

'Pardon me, I do not mean to flatter you: not a bit, Sir. Were I in your place, I would not hesitate an instant in embarking in such an enterprise: why should you? answer me that. Look at it in its right light. You want something to do. Is not this better than a trumpery clerk's situation, even supposing you could get one (which is doubtful.) As to its requiring cheek, and all that kind of thing - mere bosh. A popular delusion. Nothing, when you are used to it; no more than getting over your first segar.'

As he says so, Mr. Chuckle knocks the ashes off his own, and proceeds complacently to blow such a cloud, as cannot fail to con

vince the most skeptical of the exceeding ease, and, in fact, pleasure, of public speaking. This done, he proceeds:

'Beside, look at the advantages you possess. You say you have held a commission in the East-India Company's service, which only failing health compelled you to resign. You can speak from actual observation of the atrocities of the cowardly Sepoys; have engaged in hand-to-hand skirmishes with them; are familiar with their various interesting modes of life, their manners and customs; are au fait in giving imitations of the various eccentric cries and songs of the coolies, water-carriers, palanquin-bearers, and so forth. Why, Sir, your fortune is made, if you only knew it.'

'Oh! come now, Chuckle, draw it mild, you know,' smirks Sumpunk.

'A fact, Sir: a positive fact. Why, just look at it. Is not India the all-engrossing subject of the day? Of course it is. Is there not a morbid craving in the public mind for information on the subject? To be sure there is. I know it. I see it every day in my capacity as editor of the Blue Blast. Yes, Sir, depend upon it; the lecture's the thing to catch the conscience of the people, eh? Now, do n't you think so?'

"Aw,' replies Theophilus, might do ver well; but, aw, you see, fect is, never stood 'pon a platfawm in my life. 'Fraid, my dear fellaw, could n't do it. Besides, nevaw composed a lectchaw.'

'Oh! bother! that need be no drawback. I'll very soon arrange that for you. You just notch down, from time to time, whatever may occur to you of interest on the subject, and leave the drawing up of it to me.'

But, my dear fell

'Now, no more excuses: you must go into it; you really must. 'Tis too good a chance to let slip. I will render you every assistance I can. I will speak to the landlord here, to place a good and comfortable room at your service, with whatever else you may require. I will also write a letter to the mayor, requesting him to place the town hall at your disposal, which he will gladly do. I will also supply you with plenty of bills and posters, advertise you in my paper, and give you flattering notices in my editorial columns. That's the way to make a sensation, rely upon it. So push along with your notes, and leave the rest to me. Depend upon it, you will yet bless the day you set foot in Creekville, and came across Phil Chuckle, the editor of the Blue Blast.

'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.' We respectfully ask the opinion of the reader, as to which class Theophilus Sumpunk belonged.

"Ah!' he thought, as he turned the matter over in his mind, after his friend and adviser had left him, ' sensible fellaw is Chuckle, very, indeed: understands and appreciates merit, wherever he sees it. Capital idea, that of his; will try it, at any rate. Nevaw venchaw, nevaw win, ha! ha!'