ch himself behind
the inglorious shield of a fictitious signature, and as the mayor,
professionally indignant at the epithet pettifogging, threatened both
the editor of the Belford Courant and Mr. Joseph Hanson with an action
for libel, it followed, as matter of course, that John Parsons not only
thought the haberdasher the most able and honest man in the borough, but
regarded him as the champion, if not the martyr, of his cause, and one
who deserved everything that he had to bestow, even to the hand and
portion of the pretty Harriet.

Affairs were in this posture, when one fine morning the chief magistrate
of Belford entered the tinman's shop.

"Mr. Parsons," said the worthy dignitary, in a very conciliatory tone,
"you may be as angry with me as you like, but I find from our good vicar
that the fellow Hanson has applied to him for a licence, and I cannot
let you throw away my little friend Harriet without giving you warning,
that a long and bitter repentance will follow such a union. There are
emergencies in which it becomes a duty to throw aside professional
niceties, and to sacrifice etiquette to the interests of an old
friendship; and I tell you, as a prudent man, that I know of my own
knowledge that this intended son-in-law of your's will be arrested
before the wedding-day."

"I'll bail him," said John Parsons, stoutly.

"He is not worth a farthing," quoth the chief magistrate.

"I shall give him ten thousand pounds with my daughter," answered the
man of pots and kettles.

"I doubt if ten thousand pounds will pay his just debts," rejoined the
mayor.

"Then I'll give him twenty," responded the tinman.

"He has failed in five different places within the last five years,"
persisted the pertinacious adviser; "has run away from his creditors,
Heaven knows how often; has taken the benefit of the Act time after
time! You would not give your own sweet Harriet, the best and prettiest
girl in the county, to an adventurer, the history of whose life is to
be found in the Gazette and the Insolvent Court, and who is a high
churchman and a tory to boot. Surely you would not fling away your
daughter and your honest earnings upon a man of notorious bad character,
with whom you have not an opinion or a prejudice in common? Just think
what the other party will say!"

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Mallet or Mr. Mayor, if you prefer the sound of
your new dignity," broke out John Parsons, in a fury, "I shall do what
I like with m