ofit? Was I to exhibit in ludicrous
situations and extravagant incidents, with 'illustrations by Phiz,'
because I happened to be fat, and fond of rambling? Or was it my name
only that you pirated, so that Arthur O'Leary should be a type of
something ludicrous, wherever he appeared in company? Or worse still,
was it an attempt to extort money from me, as I understand you once
before tried, by assuming for one of your heroes the name of a most
respectable gentleman in private life? To which of these counts do you
plead guilty?

"Whatever is your plan, here is mine: I have given instructions to my
man of law to obtain an injunction from the Chancellor, restraining you
or any other from publishing these 'Loiterings.' Yes; an order of
the court will soon put an end to this most unwarrantable invasion
of private rights. Let us see then if you'll dare to persist in this
nefarious scheme.

"The Swan-river for you, and the stocks for your publisher, may,
perhaps, moderate your literary and publishing ardour--eh! Master Harry?
Or do you contemplate adding your own adventures beyond seas to the
volume, and then make something of your 'Confessions of a Convict,' I
must conclude at once: in my indignation this half hour, I have been
swallowing all the smoke of my meerschaum, and I feel myself turning
round and round like a smoke-jack. Once for all--stop! recall your
announcement, burn your MS., and prostrate yourself in abject humility
at my feet, and with many sighs, and two pounds of shag (to be had
at No. 8, Francis-street, two doors from the lane), you may haply be
forgiven by yours, in wrath,

"Arthur O'Leary.

"Address a line, if in penitence, to me here, where the lovely scenery,
and the society remind me much of Siberia--

"Edenderry, 'The Pig and Pot-hooks.'"

Having carefully read and re-read this letter, and having laid it before
those whose interests, like our own, were deeply involved, we really
for a time became thoroughly nonplussed. To disclaim any or all of the
intentions attributed to us in Mr. O'Leary's letter, would have been
perfectly useless, so long as we held to our project of publishing
anything under his name. Of no avail to assure him that our "Loiterings
of Arthur O'Leary" were not his--that our hero was not himself. To
little purpose should we adduce that our Alter Ego was the hero of a
book by the Prebend of Lichfield, and "Charles Lever" given to the world
as a socialist. He cared for nothing