ge," observed Tom, who was
blowing up the fire.

"May be, Tom, as a judge a'ter dinner; but a judge on the bench be one
thing, and a judge over a bottle be another, and not bad judges in that
way either. At all events, if you warn't _sewed up_, it wasn't your
fault."

"And I suppose," replied Tom, "it was only your misfortune that you
were."

"No, I don't say that; but still, when I look at the dog, who's but a
beast by nature, and thinks of myself, who wasn't meant to be a beast,
why, I blushes, that's all."

"Jacob, look at father--now, does he blush?" cried Tom.

"I can't say that I perceive it," replied I, smiling.

"Well, then, if I don't it's the fault of my having no legs. I'm sure
when they were knocked off I lost half the blood in my body, and that's
the reason, I suppose. At all events, I meant to blush, so we'll take
the will for the deed."

"But do you mean to keep sober in future, father?" said Tom.

"Never do you mind that--mind your own business, Mr Tom. At all
events, I sha'n't get tipsy till next time, and that's all I can say
with safety, 'cause, d'ye see, I knows my failing. Jacob, did you ever
see that old gentleman sail too close to the wind before?"

"I never did--I do not think that he was ever tipsy before last night."

"Then I pities him--his headache, and his repentance. Moreover, there
be his nose and the swallow-tail of his coat to make him unhappy. We
shall be down abreast of the Hospital in half-an-hour. Suppose you go
and give him a shake, Jacob. Not you, Tom; I won't trust you--you'll be
doing him a mischief; you haven't got no fellow-feeling, not even for
dumb brutes."

"I'll thank you not to take away my character that way, father," replied
Tom. "Didn't I put you to bed last night when you were speechless?"

"Suppose you did--what then?"

"Why, then, I had a feeling for a dumb brute. I only say that, father,
for the joke of it, you know," continued Tom, going up to his father and
patting his rough cheek.

"I know that, my boy; you never were unkind, that's sartain; but you
must have your joke--

"Merry thoughts are link'd with laughter,
Why should we bury them?
Sighs and tears may come hereafter,
No need to hurry them.
They who through a spying-glass,
View the minutes as they pass,
Make the sun a gloomy mass,
But the fault's their own, Tom."

In the meantime I was vainly attempting to rouse the Dominie. After
many fruitless attempts,