man smoke, when we have been out together, but I have
never observed him indulging in that habit, in the city."

"Oh, yes! He smokes at home," Bob said.

"I have great confidence in Mr. Medlin, Robert. You have been
comfortable with him, I hope?"

"Could not be more comfortable, sir."

"An excellent man of business, Robert, and most trustworthy. A
serious-minded man."

Bob was looking up, and saw a little twinkle in Mr. Bale's eye.

"You don't find it dull, I hope?"

"Not at all dull, sir. Mr. Medlin and his family are very musical."

"Musical, are they, Robert?" Mr. Bale said, in a tone of surprise.
"As far as I have seen in the counting house, I should not have
taken him to be musical."

"No, I don't think you would, uncle. Just the same way as one
wouldn't think it likely that you would smoke a cigar."

"Well, no, Robert. You see, one must not always go by appearances."

"No, sir; that is just what Mr. Medlin says," Bob replied, smiling.

"Oh, he says that, does he? I suppose he has been telling you that
we go out fishing together?"

"He did mention that, sir."

"You must not always believe what Medlin says, Robert."

"No, sir? I thought you told me he was perfectly trustworthy?"

"In some points, boy; but it is notorious that, from all times, the
narratives of fishermen must be received with a large amount of
caution. The man who can be trusted with untold gold cannot be
relied upon to give, with even an approach to accuracy, the weights
of the fish he has caught; and indeed, all his statements with
reference to the pursuit must be taken with a large discount.

"You were surprised, when you heard that I went fishing, Robert?"

"Not more surprised than I was when you lit your cigar, sir."

"Well, you know what Horace said, Robert. I forget what it was in
the Latin, but it meant:

"'He is a poor soul, who never rejoices.'

"The bow must be relaxed, Robert, or it loses its stiffness and
spring. I, myself, always bear this in mind; and endeavour to
forget that there is such a place as the city of London, or a place
of business called Philpot Lane, directly I get away from it."

"Don't you think that you could forget, too, uncle, that the name I
am known by in the city is Robert; and that my name, at all other
times, is Bob?"

"I will try to do so, if you make a point of it," Mr. Bale said,
gravely; "but at the same time, it appears to me that Bob is a name
for a short-tailed sheepdog, rather