n I pity so much.'

I conceived him, I confessed, hardly pitiable, though not enviable.

'He has but six hundred a year, and a passion for Burgundy,' said my
father.

We were four at table. The editor came, and his timidity soon wore off
in the warmth of hospitality. He appeared a kind exciteable little
man, glad of his dinner from the first, and in due time proud of his
entertainer. His response to the toast of the Fourth Estate was an
apology for its behaviour to my father. He regretted it; he regretted
it. A vinous speech.

My father heard him out. Addressing him subsequently,

'I would not interrupt you in the delivery of your sentiments,' he said.
'I must, however, man to man, candidly tell you I should have wished to
arrest your expressions of regret. They convey to my mind an idea, that
on receipt of my letter of invitation, you attributed to me a design to
corrupt you. Protest nothing, I beg. Editors are human, after all. Now,
my object is, that as you write of me, you should have some knowledge of
me; and I naturally am interested in one who does me so much honour.
The facts of my life are at your disposal for publication and comment.
Simply, I entreat you, say this one thing of me: I seek for justice, but
I never complain of my fortunes. Providence decides:--that might be the
motto engraven on my heart. Nay, I may risk declaring it is! In the
end I shall be righted. Meanwhile you contribute to my happiness by
favouring me with your society.'

'Ah, sir,' replied the little man, 'were all our great people like you!
In the country--the provinces--they treat the representatives of the
Fourth Estate as the squires a couple of generations back used to treat
the parsons.'

'What! Have you got a place at their tables?' inquired Captain DeWitt.

'No, I cannot say that--not even below the salt. Mr. Richmond--Mr.
Roy, you may not be aware of it: I am the proprietor of the opposition
journals in this county. I tell you in confidence, one by itself would
not pay; and I am a printer, sir, and it is on my conscience to tell you
I have, in the course of business, been compelled this very morning
to receive orders for the printing of various squibs and, I much fear,
scurrilous things.'

My father pacified him.

'You will do your duty to your family, Mr. Hickson.'

Deeply moved, the little man pulled out proof-sheets and slips.

'Even now, at the eleventh hour,' he urged, 'there is time to correct
any glaring fal