Agamemnon returned to 24, Pleasant Terrace, a discontented man. He felt
that there was no one sitting up for him--nothing but a rush-light--the
dog might bark as he entered, but no voice was there to welcome him,
and with a heavy heart he ascended the two stone steps of his dwelling.

He took out his latch-key, and was about to unlock the door, when a
loud knocking was heard in the next street. Collumpsion paused, and
then gave utterance to his feelings. "That's music--positively music.
This is my house--there's my name on the brass-plate--that's my
knocker, as I can prove by the bill and receipt; and, yet, here I am
about to sneak in like a burglar. Old John sha'n't go to bed another
night; I'll not indulge the lazy scoundrel any longer, Yet the poor old
fellow nursed me when a child. I'll compromise the matter--I'll knock,
and let myself in." So saying, Collumpsion thumped away at the door,
looked around to see that he was unobserved, applied his latch-key, and
slipped into his house just as old John, in a state of great alarm and
undress, was descending the stairs with a candle and a boot-jack.

* * * * *


AN ACUTE ANGLE.

We read in the _Glasgow Courier_ of an enormous salmon hooked at Govan,
which measured three feet, three inches in length. The _Morning Herald_
mentions several gudgeons of twice the size, caught, we understand, by
Alderman Humphery, and conveyed to Town per Blackwall Railway.

* * * * *