if this hub bub was always to last!" a voice speaks suddenly. It is
the Hon. Mr. Snivel, who looks in at the eleventh hour, as he says, to
find affairs always in a fuss. "Being a man of legal knowledge--always
ready to do a bit of a good turn--especially in putting a disordered
house to rights--I thought it well to look in, having a leisure minute
or two (we have had a convention for dissolving the Union, and passed a
vote to that end!) to give to my old friends," Mr. Snivel says, in a
voice at once conciliating and insinuating. "I always think of a border
feud when I come here--things that find no favor with me." Mr. Snivel,
having first patted the old man on the shoulder, exchanges a significant
wink with his friend Keepum, and then bestows upon him what he is
pleased to call a little wholesome advice. "People misunderstand Mr.
Keepum," he says, "who is one of the most generous of men, but lacks
discretion, and in trying to be polite to everybody, lets his feelings
have too much latitude now and then." Maria buries her face in her
handkerchief, as if indifferent to the reconciliation offered.

"Now let this all be forgotten--let friendship reign among friends:
that's my motto. But! I say,--this is a bad piece of news we have this
morning. Clipped this from an English paper," resumes the Hon.
gentleman, drawing coolly from his pocket a bit of paper, having the
appearance of an extract.

"You are never without some kind of news--mostly bad!" says Keepum,
flinging himself into a chair, with an air of restored confidence. Mr.
Snivel bows, thanks the gentleman for the compliment, and commences to
read. "This news," he adds, "may be relied upon, having come from
Lloyd's List: 'Intelligence was received here (this is, you must
remember, from a London paper, he says, in parentheses) this morning, of
the total loss of the American ship ----, bound from this port for
Charleston, U.S., near the Needles. Every soul on board, except the
Captain and second mate, perished. The gale was one of the worst ever
known on this coast--'"

"The worst ever known on this coast!" ejaculates Mr. Keepum, his wicked
eyes steadily fixed upon Maria. "One of Trueman's ships," Mr. Snivel
adds. "Unlucky fellow, that Trueman--second ship he has lost."

"By-the-bye," rejoins Keepum, as if a thought has just flashed upon him,
"your old friend, Tom Swiggs, was supercargo, clerk, or whatever you may
call it, aboard that ship, eh?"

It is the knave who