Messrs. Mitchell, where one of those so-called "Roman"
scales was in readiness. It was necessary, by the way,
for the doctor to know the weight of his companions, so
as to fix the equilibrium of his balloon; so he made Dick
get up on the platform of the scales. The latter, without
making any resistance, said, in an undertone:

"Oh! well, that doesn't bind me to any thing."

"One hundred and fifty-three pounds," said the doctor,
noting it down on his tablets.

"Am I too heavy?"

"Why, no, Mr. Kennedy!" said Joe; "and then, you
know, I am light to make up for it."

So saying, Joe, with enthusiasm, took his place on the
scales, and very nearly upset them in his ready haste.
He struck the attitude of Wellington where he is made to
ape Achilles, at Hyde-Park entrance, and was superb in
it, without the shield.

"One hundred and twenty pounds," wrote the doctor.

"Ah! ha!" said Joe, with a smile of satisfaction
And why did he smile? He never could tell himself.

"It's my turn now," said Ferguson--and he put down
one hundred and thirty-five pounds to his own account.