"But she ain't my wife," said ARCHIBALD; "I only--kind of know her, you
see."

"Drat the man," said Mrs. BACKUP to herself; "he's a born fool that
can't take a hint like that. TEDDY!" she cried to a seedy-looking,
pimply man, who was sucking a forlorn-looking pipe on the back-door
step, "you're wanted." She whispered a few words in his ear, and went
up-stairs.

TEDDY MCSLUSH was the General Utility man of the Half-Way House. Born
down East, of an Irish father and Scotch mother, he was eminently
calculated to live by his wits. His natural talents were numerous and
sparkling. He could tell more lies without notes than any man in the
State, or make a beautiful prayer, all in the way of business. When a
runaway couple were married at the Half-Way House, he would not only
give the bride away in a voice broken by emotion, but he would bless the
bridegroom with tears in his eyes, and he would do all this at the
lowest market price. And every Sunday he dressed in a black suit and
sung in the choir, and patted the little children on the head, and was
generally respected.

He approached ARCHIBALD, and poked him in the ribs, facetiously.

"Ah!" he ejaculated; "and it's a cryin' shame, so it is, that a fine lad
like yerself should be took with sich a complaint. It's modeshty what
ails ye, man. And wasn't it Mester JOHN SHAKESPEER himself, him as writ
the illegant versis, Lord luv his ashis, as says to me only jist afore
his breath soured on him, 'TEDDY,' says he, wid much feelin', 'TEDDY,
modeshty is a fine thing in a woman,' says he, 'but it's death to a man.
Promise me now,' says he, 'for I feel as this clay is a coolin'