name on a paper be?"

"That's what I want to know," said I, feeling a
little mortified, none the less.

"Look here, laddie," he went on; "d'you see that pile
of letters on the left of the table?"

"Yes."

"Those are duns. And d'you see those documents
on the right? Well, those are County Court summonses.
And, now, d'you see that;" he picked up a little ledger,
and showed me three or, four names scribbled on the first
page.

"That's the practice," he roared, and laughed until
the great veins jumped out on his forehead. His wife
laughed heartily also, just as she would have wept, had
he been so disposed.

"It's this way, Munro," said he, when he had got over
his paroxysm. "You have probably heard--in fact, I have
told you myself--that my father had the finest practice
in Scotland. As far as I could judge he was a man of no
capacity, but still there you are--he had it."

I nodded and smoked.

"Well, he's been dead seven years, and fifty nets