want to talk to him, but he always gets out of my way; he does
not know me; he takes me for a mere common person, like the rest
of the canons here, and thinks of me no more than if I were only
fit for the cassock;--a mere Scotch priest! Bless 'em!--they
know nothing about me. You have no conception what things I have
done! And I want to tell 'em all this;--It's fitter for them to
hear than what comes to their ears. What I want is for somebody
to tell them what I am."

They know it already, thought I.

Then, when he had exhausted this general panegyric, he descended
to some few particulars; especially dilating upon his preaching,
and applying to me for attesting its excellence.

"I shall make one sermon every year, precisely for you!" he
cried; "I think I know what will please you. That on the
creation last Sunday was just to your taste. You shall have such
another next residence. I think I preach in the right tone--not
too slow, like that poor wretch Grape, nor too fast like Davis
and the rest of 'em; but yet fast enough never to tire them.
That's just my idea of good preaching."

Then he told me what excellent apartments he had here and how
much he should like my opinion in fitting them up.


MR. TURBULENT BECOMES A NUISANCE.

Aug.30.-Mrs. Schwellenberg invited Mr. Turbulent to dinner, for