the drag examined and the axles greased,--in a
word, have your brains about you, Paynter. Good-bye." Exit as before.

CHAPTER XVI. UNPLEASANT TURN TO AN AGREEABLE CONVERSE.

There is no denying it, I have led a life of far more than ordinary
happiness. The white squares in the checker of my existence have
certainly equalled the black ones, and it is not every man can say as
much. I suspect I owe a great share of this enjoyment to temperament,
to a disposition not so much remarkable for opposing difficulties as for
deriving all the possible pleasure from any fortunate conjuncture. This
gift I know I possess. I am not one of those strong natures which,
by their intrinsic force, are ever impressing their own image on the
society they live in. I am a weak, frail, yielding creature, but my very
pliancy has given me many a partnership in emotions which, with a more
rugged temperament, I had not partaken of. When one has wept over a
friend's misfortunes and awakes to the consciousness that no ill has
befallen himself, he feels as some great millionnaire might feel who
has bestowed a thousand pounds in charity and yet knows he is never
the poorer. With the proud consciousness of this fresh title to men's
admiration, he has the secret satisfaction of knowing that he will
go clothed in purple as before, and fare to-day as sumptuously as
yesterday. Do you, most generous of readers, call this selfishness?
It is the very reverse. It is the grand culminating point of human
sympathy.

I have a great deal more to say about myself. It is a theme I am really
fond of, but I am not exactly sure that you are like-minded, or that
this is the fittest place for it. I return to events.

It was on a bright, breezy morning of the early autumn that a heavy old
German travelling-carriage,--a wagon!--rattled over the uneven pavement
of Kalbbratonstadt, and soon gaining one of the long forest alleys,
rolled noiselessly over the smooth sward. Within sat an elderly lady
with a due allowance of air-cushions, toy-terriers, and guide-books; in
the rumble were a man and a maid; and in the cabriolet in front were a
pale but placid girl, with large gray eyes and long lashes, and he who
now writes these lines beside her. They who had only known me a few
months back as a freshman of Trinity would not have recognized me now,
as I sat with a long-peaked travelling-cap, a courier's belt and bag at
my side, and the opening promise of a small furry mousta