girl crying in the kitchen. When Eliza
asked what was the matter, she said that she would rather say nothing,
but that she was wishful to leave at the end of her month.

Of course Eliza blamed me, but I had told the girl as distinctly as I
could speak that it was a wine which required dilution. However, Eliza
persuaded her to stay on. The girl took the pledge on the following
day, and seemed changed in many ways. She put the bottle back in the
sideboard; there was still more than half of it left.

* * * * *

After that nothing happened with reference to the tonic port, until one
day I noticed that our cat (who had recently lost her kittens) seemed
in a poor state of health. I gave it a few spoonfuls of the tonic port
in a little milk. It drank it with avidity, somewhat to my surprise. I
had one or two little things to do in the garden after that, and when I
came back Eliza said that the cat had become so very strange in its
manner that she had thought it best to lock it in the coal-cellar.

I went to look at it, and found it lying on its back, dead. It had a
singularly happy expression on its face. Both Eliza and myself were
very sorry to lose it.

[Illustration: "_It had a singularly happy expression on its face._"]

I judged it best to say nothing about the port. But the bottle had gone
from the sideboard. Eliza said that she had removed it, to prevent
further accidents.

I told the head clerk about it, but he only laughed in the silliest
way. He is a most ill-bred man, in my opinion.

THE GENTLEMAN OF TITLE

One of our younger clerks, a man of the name of Perkins, is said to be
very well connected. He certainly spends more than his salary, and
rarely wears the same trousers on two consecutive days. But I am not a
snob, nor one who thinks much of these things, and I had never
cultivated young Perkins. Consequently it rather surprised me when he
introduced me to his friend, the Hon. Eugene Clerrimount. Then I
remembered what had been said about Perkins's connections.

* * * * *

The Hon. Eugene Clerrimount was a handsome young man, though apparently
troubled with pimples. His manner had in it what I should call dash.
There was not an ounce of affectation about him; but then high rank
does not need affectations--I have always noticed that. He appeared to
take rather a liking to me, and insisted that we must all three go