im--not that he liked being called an esquire; yet, for all
that, he felt safe, for there, extra-large and important, was the word
"_Private_"--a military distinction that made him doubly certain; so,
he bore away the letter, in great trepidation, to his quarters in the
tiles, there to be much relieved by its contents; vowing, as he lay on
his bed, to be watchful as the Duke on the look-out in his "Battle of
Waterloo," and dumb as a dead drummer in the foreground.

Happily Victoria and Albert were ignorant of these despatches, or John
might have lost his commission and uniform. Confidence is
unshaken;--for, on December 30_th_, _Sunday_, Captain de Camp is
reported a "glorious oriental brick,"--he having kindly prescribed all
sorts of good things for his invalid friend, without the slightest
regard to expense; and, moreover, broken Brown's quinsy by administering
an extraordinary anecdote, or "crammer," that scarcely any one could
_swallow_; but Brown did, and laughed so much afterwards, that the
quinsy was gone; for the Captain had anecdotes suited to all times and
seasons--he only wanted listeners, and off he went like an alarum.
Sunday put him in mind of that day twelvemonths; and that day put him in
mind of Richard Spark, of the Native Infantry; Rich. Spark put him in
mind of how they got that Hindoo millionaire, Makemuchjee Catch-muchjee,
into a Christian church, by walking him between them, in a state of
ether; how he (the Hindoo) was mollified by the sermon, and went
home--melted the Idol, Boobobum, that had golden hair, diamond eyes,
pearly teeth, coral lips, a silver tongue, and a copper bottom; how he
handed her over in lumps to the church; and yet, with all these poetical
attributes she was the ugliest and most precious god he ever set eyes
on. She was the subscription of the district--the poor put the copper
and the rich the gold;--the Captain telling of how he made a posthumous
portrait of her, which is quite correct; only he forgot five bosoms in
the bust, and left out a right arm:--it is engraved in No. 365 of the
"Missionary Record."

This paragraph opens with the last day of the old year.--The cold that
stiffened Mr. Brown's neck, and choked up his throat has thawed; his
nose has resumed its accustomed hue; his temper is unusually good
in the prospect of vacating his room, and beginning the year with
redoubled energy. Mrs. Brown is preparing for something important;
and, from the delicate scented note y