me and her Majesty have had a little difference, I
think on the whole I may propose the Queen_!" Fool is he who neglects
his Sovereign, and gets in exchange Sovereign contempt. Such was
Toole's observation.

It was at this little entertainment that Sir Henry told the story of
the banker's clerk and the bad boy--a true story, he said, although it
may be without a moral. The best stories, said Toole, like the best
people, have no morals--at least, none to make a song about--any more
than the best dogs have the longest tails.

A gentleman who was a customer at a certain bank was asked by a bank
clerk whether a particular cheque bore his signature.

The gentleman looked at it, and said, "That is all right."

"All right?" said the bank clerk. "Is that really your signature,
sir?"

"Certainly," said the gentleman.

"Quite sure, sir?"

"As sure as I am of my own existence."

The clerk looked puzzled and somewhat disconcerted, so sure was he
that the signature was false.

"How can I be deceived in my own handwriting?" asked the supposed
drawer of the cheque.

"Well," said the clerk, "you will excuse me, I hope, but I have
_refused to pay on that signature_, because I do not believe it is
yours."

"_Pay_!" said the customer. "For Heaven's sake, do not dishonour my
signature."

"I will never do that," was the answer; "but will you look through
your papers, counterfoils, bank-book, and accounts, and see if you can
trace this cheque?"

The customer looked through his accounts and found no trace of it or
the amount for which it was given.

At last, on examining the _number_ of the cheque, he was convinced
that the signature could not be his, _because he had never had
a cheque-book with that number in it_. At the same time, his
astonishment was great that the clerk should know his handwriting
better than he knew it himself.

"I will tell you," said the clerk, "how I discovered the forgery. A
boy presented this cheque, purporting to have been signed by you. I
cashed it. He came again with another. I cashed that. A little while
afterwards he came again. My suspicions were then aroused, not by
anything in the signature or the cheque, but by the circumstance of
the _frequency of his coming_. When he came the third time, however,
I suspended payment until I saw you, because the _line under your
signature with which you always finish was not at the same angle_; it
went a trifle nearer the letters, and I at once concl