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how he might avoid the hateful consequences which might spring from a meeting with the letter writer, and preserve the good opinion of his associates and himself.

Cooper, if the fellow should say that he is sorry he made use of improper language in respect to Mrs. Spiffard, I may say that I am sorry that I was called upon to speak harshly to him ?"

This was said by way of query, as they passed toward Greenwich-street.

** Your if, is a notable peace-maker, you know Spiff; but I do not see how you can be sorry for doing right, because Mr. John Smith is sorry for having done wrong. Besides, he has not invited you to the Albany Coffee-house to receive, but to make an apology. Would you know the fellow again ?" Spiffard hesitated. The manager asked, “ If you were to see him, he not speaking to you, or noticing you, would you know him ?"

“ I think I should know one of them—there were two, you know—both in rough great-coats. I think I might know the one I spoke to.”

“ If they were disguised for a frolic, they probably wore wigs.”

My man had a shaggy bush of shock hair, as far as I could see below his hat."

“A wig no doubt. You would not know him again, I see.' The manager was determined that it should be so.

•6• The Albany Coffee-house. This is our place,” said Cooper, as he read the sign. Zeb stretched himself to the height of full five feet five, and took a desperate stride towards the door. Stop," said his patron, and he took his arm.

66 Don't look as if you would eat the man. An easy, careless air. Take my arm. Let me be spokesman."

“ Zeb obeyed. They entered with an air of nonchalance ; but careless as our hero might be, he rolled his lobster eyes around the public room, in search of the redoubted John Smith. The bar-keeper was at his post, and but one other human þeing was to be seen. A little consumptive-looking, elderly man, was reading the news at a table, and did not notice their entrance, or lift his

eyes

from the paper.
“Is that the man ?" whispered the waggish manager.

"I-I think not. He was much stouter and younger, and his face full of colour."

“There is no knowing. A large overcoat, and a bushy wig of shock hair; and then, probably, his face flushed with exercise and liquor.”

“It may bie--it is possible--and yet—"

“ I'll soon know;" and stepping up to the little old gentleman, he said, “ Pray, sir, is your name Smith ?” Here the wag thought that a simple negative would have settled the point; but to his great gratification, the little old gentleman, squeaked out, “ Yes, sir, my name is Smith.”

The manager turned round to watch the emotion depicted on his protegee's face, and could scarce refrain from laughter, as he saw the eager look Spiffard fixed on Mr. Smith ; who, seeing this unaccountable "bye play,” exclaimed in a sharper tone, “ And pray, sir, what have you to do with my name ?"

“ That we shall see, sir, in due time.” He took off his hat, and bowed to Mr. Smith ; then turning again to his companion, who was gazing with earnestness, at the little old gentlenman, (whose exertion had produced a fit of coughing, that brought the tears in his eyes, and a flush of red over his face,) Cooper said, “Here he is. See how red he looks. Would you have recognized him ?

"No."
“Nor his voice ?!!
“ His voice was as gruff as the low notes of a bassoon.”

" He was hoarse ; you see he has a cold. See what a colour he has now."

The little man having, in some measure, subdued his cough, was wiping the tears from his face, when he again squeaked out angrily, “ What do you mean by asking me my name ?"

“ No offence, sir. You are not ashamed of your name. You are a man of honour, sir; and we have come to meet you, and give assurance that you shall have any satisfaction a man of honour may, by the laws of honour, justly demand.”

* Tom, don't be so precipitate.”
“ If you think you can manage the affair better ?”

No, no, no-but"
* Meet me! Satisfaction! Waiter! Bar-keeper!"

Coming, sir,” and the bar-keeper went out of sight, and listened.

Do you mean to insult me?

" Far from it, sir.” While the little man underwent another fit of coughing, the tragedian took out the letter of “ John Smith," and with great gravity demanded, as he displayed the epistle, “Is that your signature, sir ?" The astonished old

66

gentleman sought for his spectacles, and the wag proceeded, Is your name John Smith ?"

“No! Robert! My name is Robert Cunningham Smith ! Robert !"

“Then we have nothing further to say, Mr. Cunningham, but that an appointment made by a Mr. Smith, brought us here; and your name being Smith, has led to this intrusion. We beg your pardon, sir. Bar-keeper! Captain Smith is waiting for us in a private room.” He whispered to Spiffard.

“ Never was so treated in my life!” And Mr. Smith took the newspaper again. “Waiter! bar-keeper!" shouted the tragedian.

“Coming, sir.” and he came forward from his hiding-place. “Is there any gentleman in the house who has engaged a private apartment ?”

- The boarders are all gone out, sir.”
“ Is there any one of the name of Smith?”

“ John Smith ?” said Spiffard, by way of making the matter sure this time.

· No, sir; there is no Mr. Smith boards here.” “ Is there no stranger in the house ?" “No, sir; only that old gentleman." “ Do you know any one of the name of Smith“John Smith ?” added the principal.

No, sir--yes—there is a Captain Smith who sometimes comes here."

• Is his name John ?" said Zeb.
“ I really—I don't-I believe so."

" That's the man, depend upon it,” said Cooper. “Captain John Smith !"

“ But, Tom, he is not here."

“Something has prevented. We shall see. If he does not apologize, you must post. Have you any mint-julep, waiter? You must post.”

“ I will post home. I will have nothing more to do with Captain Smith."

The friends departed, and Mr. Robert Smith took off his spectacles to inquire who they were. "I believe, sir, they are play-actors."

• The scoundrels! Ask me my name! The strolling vagabonds !"

The remainder of this day passed without interruption to the peace of our hero. He returned home light of heart. A weight

were

had been removed, and he was pleased with every body and every thing.

The manager, satisfied with the success of the joke, looked no further than to tell the story at the next meeting of his merry comrades, and then to let all be explained to Spiffard, and have a hearty and friendly laugh. But fate was adverse, and fate will have her way, let us say what we will to the contrary. The playful, and not unfriendly intentions of the young manager,

-; but we will not anticipate. It was the ebb tide with our hero's affairs, and he had to flounder among sands and shallows, and thump upon banks and rocks, as the great moralist

says all men must who miss the flood. Fortunately, the tide of flood was making for some of our friends, and the gales of heaven were in readiness to swell their sails, and bear them quietly over a sea of happiness,

So it is. What moment is there that is not marked by joy and sorrow, hope and despair, life and death? But life is triumphant, and will be triumphant. The light will grow more and more unto the perfect day. The will of the Author of all good must prevail.

CHAPTER VII.

Winter. In English heroine.

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Ah, what a sign it is of evil life,

When death's approach is seen so terrible.”
“Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.” - Shakspeare.
“Irrthum, lass los der Augen Band !

Und merkt euch, wie der Teufel spasse."--Goethe.
"Nature, with a beauteous wall, doth oft enclose pollution.”

thou hast a mind
That suits with this thy fair and outward character."
"For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich."
“Good alone, is good, without a name.”
"Too fond of the right, to pursue the expedient."
"For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,

He is but outside."
"He that loves to be flattered, is worthy of the flatterer."
"That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy."'--Shakspeare.

It is a saying as true as homely, that “ time and tide wait for no man.

The first month of the year 1812 had commenced, and the tide of events connected with our hero, Zebediah. Spiffard, swept on, ebbing to the ocean of eternity.

The season of merry Christmas had arrived and was gone. It had passed as usual. Some of the decendants of Englishmen, feasted on roast beef and plumb-pudding, on the day; but most substituted roast turkeys and mince-pies. Others, again, frowned on the remains of popery, abhorred the word " mass,' and strictly prohibited the festival. But the seventh day after, festivity more unanimously prevailed. On the first day of the

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