t morning Gunner Israel Spettigew, having relieved guard with
Gunner Oke at the breach, and advised him to exhibit a dose of
black-currant wine before turning in (as a specific against a chill in the
extremities), was proceeding leisurably to cut himself a quid of tobacco
when he became aware of two workmen--carpenters they appeared to be in the
dim light--approaching the entry.

"Who goes there?" he challenged. "'Tis no use my asking you for the
countersign, because I've forgotten it myself: but there's No Admittance
except on Business."

"That's what we've come upon," said one of the workmen. "By the looks of
'ee you must be one of the new Artillerymen from Looe that can't die
however hard they want to. But didn' Jackson tell you to look out for
us?"

"Who's Jackson?"

"Why, our Clerk of the Works. He's somewhere inside surely? He usually
turns up half an hour ahead of anyone else, his heart's so set on this
job."

"I haven't seen 'en go by, to my knowledge," said Uncle Issy.

The two men looked at one another. "Not turned up? Then there must be
something the matter with 'en this morning: taken poorly with over-work,
I reckon. Oh, you can't miss Jackson when once you've set eyes on him--a
little chap with a face like a rabbit and a 'pediment in his speech."

"Hey?" said Uncle Issy sharply. "What? A stammerin' little slip of a
chap in a moleskin waistcoat?"

"That's the man. Leastways I never see'd him wear a moleskin waistcoat,
'xcept on Sundays."

"But it _was_ Sunday!"

"Hey?"

"Oh, tell me--tell me, that's dear souls! Makes a whistly noise in his
speech--do he?--like a slit bellows?"

"That's Jackson, to a hair. But--but--then you _hev_ seen 'en?"

"Seen 'en?" cried Uncle Issy. "A nice miss I ha'n't helped to bury 'en,
by this time! Oh yes . . . if you want Jackson he's inside: an' what's
more, he's a long way inside. But you can't want him half so much as
he'll be wantin' you."

HIS EXCELLENCY'S PRIZE-FIGHT.

My grand-uncle pushed the decanter of brown sherry: a stout old-fashioned
decanter, with shoulders almost as square as his own, and a silver chain
about them bearing a silver label--not unlike the badge and collar which
he himself wore on full ceremonial occasions.

"Three times round the world," he said, "and as yet only twice around the
table. You must do it justice, gentlemen."

"A great wine, Admiral!" said the Rector, filling and sipping, with
half-closed eyes