snakes in their bed.' Thash is _one_ entry," continued Mr. BUMSTEAD,
momentarily pausing to make a blow with the fire-shovel at some
imaginary creature crawling across the rug. "Here's another, written
next morning after cloves: 'My nephews have gone to New York together
this A.M. They laughed when I cautioned them against the MONTGOMERIES,
and said they didn't see it. I am still very uneasy, however, and have
hurriedly pulled off my boots to kill the reptiles in them. How's this
for high?" Mr. BUMSTEAD fell into a doze for an instant, and then added:
"I see the name 'J. BUMSTEAD' signed to this. Who'sh _he_?--Oh! i'mushbe
myself."

"Well, well," commented the slightly astonished Gospeler, "whatever my
be your private opinions, I ask you, as a matter of evident public
propriety, and for the good of everybody, to soften Mr. DROOD toward Mr.
PENDRAGON, as I have already softened Mr. PENDRAGON toward Mr. DROOD.
You and I must put an end to this foolish quarrel."

"Thashis so." said Mr. BUMSTEAD, with sudden assent, laboriously gaining
his feet to bid his guest good-bye, and rather absent-mindedly opening
the umbrella over his head as he fumbled for the knob of the door. "You
and I musht reconcile these four young men. Gooright, shir. Take a
little soda-water in the morning and you'll be auright, shir."

On the third day after this interview, Mr. BUMSTEAD waited upon Mr.
SIMPSON with the following note, which, after searching agitatedly for
it in his hat and all his pockets, he finally found up one of his
sleeves: "_My dear_ JACK:--I am much pleased to hear of your
conversation about me with that good man whom you call 'the Reverends
Messieurs SIMPSON,' and shall gladly comply with his wish for a make-up
between PENDRAGON and myself. Invite PENDRAGON to dinner on Christmas