rival, and who had driven him to this pitch of frenzy. The waiter, not knowing what was the matter, had followed him to see that he came to no harm, and to bring him back, little dreaming of the shock that awaited him.

The instant the Poet perceived who it was, all his pent-up fury broke forth: to rush upon him, to grasp him by the throat with both hands, to dash him to the ground, and there to reduce him to the extreme verge of suffocation -- all this was the work of a moment.

`Traitor! villain! malcontent! regicide!' he hissed through his closed teeth, taking any abusive epithet that came into his head, without stopping to consider its suitability. `Is it thou? Now shalt thou feel my wrath!' And doubtless the waiter did experience that singular sensation, whatever it may have been, for he struggled violently with his assailant, and bellowed `murder' the instant he recovered his breath.

`Say not so,' the Poet sternly answered, as he released him; `it is thou that murderest me.' The waiter gathered himself up, and began in great surprise, `Why, I never --' `'Tis a lie!' the Poet screamed; `she loves thee not! Me, me alone.' `Who ever said she did?' the other asked, beginning to perceive how matters stood. `Thou! thou saidst it,' was the wild reply, `what, villain? acquire her heart? thou never shalt.'

The waiter calmly explained himself: `My' ope were, Sir, to hacquire her Hart of waiting at table, which she do perdigious well, sure-ly: seeing that I were thinking of happlying for to be 'eadwaiter at the 'otel.' The Poet's wrath instantly abated, indeed, he looked rather crestfallen than otherwise; `Excuse my violence,' he gently said, `and let us take a friendly glass together.' `I agree,' was the waiter's generous answer, `but man halive, you've ruinated my coat!'

`Courage,' cried our hero gaily, `thou shalt have a new one anon: aye, and of the best cashmere.' `H'm,' said the other, hesitatingly, `wouldn't hany other stuff --' `I will not buy thee one of any other stuff,' returned the Poet, gently but decidedly, and the waiter gave up the point.

Arrived once more at the friendly tavern, the Poet briskly ordered a jorum of Punch, and, on its being furnished, called on his friend for a toast. `I'll give you,' said the waiter, who was of a sentimental turn, however little he looked like it, `I'll give you -- Woman! She doubles our sorrows and 'alves our joy.' The Poet drained his glass, not caring to correct his companion's mistake, and at intervals during the evening the same inspiring sentiment was repeated. And so the night wore away, and another jorum of Punch was ordered, and another.

`And now hallow me,' said the waiter, attempting for about the tenth time to rise on his feet and make a speech, and failing even more signally than he had yet done, `to give a toast for this 'appy hoccasion. Woman! she doubles --' but at this moment, probably in illustration of his favourite theory, he `doubled' himself up, and so effectually, that he instantly vanished under the table.

Occupying that limited sphere of observation, it is conjectured that he fell to moralizing on human ills in general, and their remedies, for a solemn voice was presently heard to issue from his retreat, proclaiming feelingly though rather indistinctly, that `when the 'art of man is hopressed with care --' here came a pause, as if he wished to leave the question open to discussion, but as no one present seemed competent to suggest the proper course to be taken in that melancholy contingency, he attempted to supply the deficiency himself with the remarkable statement `she's hall my fancy painted 'er.'

Meanwhile the Poet was sitting, smiling quietly to himself, as he sipped his punch: the only notice he took of his companion's abrupt disappearance was to help himself to a fresh glass, and say, `your health!' in a cordial tone, nodding to where the waiter ought to have been. He then cried, `hear, hear!' encouragingly, and made an attempt to thump the table with his fist, but missed it. He seemed interested in the question regarding the heart oppressed with care, and winked sagaciously with one eye two or three times, as if there were a good deal he could say on that subject, if he close; but the second quotation roused him to