asional remarks, but at length relapsed into himself, and after some
minutes of thought he reached out his hand and drew from among the
periodicals lying on the table--

CHAPTER XVI.

THE DAILY PAPER.

"By the powers!" suddenly interrupted the deep voice of O'Halloran,
breaking in upon our lively and delightful conversation.

At which we all started as though we had been shot.

"By the pipers!" continued O'Halloran, after some hesitation. "To think
of anybody thryin' to cross the river on the 3d! Why, that was the dee
of the breek-up."

At these words I started in new astonishment, and for a moment didn't
know what in the world to make of it all. As for the ladies, they
didn't say a word. I didn't notice them, in fact; I had turned and was
looking at O'Halloran.

"See here," said he. "Did you ever hear the loikes of this? '_Paul
Verrier of Chaudiere lift his homne on the 3d of Eepril last, to convee
a leedy to Quebec across the oice_;'" and he read straight through the
very advertisement which I had written and inserted in that very paper.

What my emotions were at that moment it is difficult to describe. At
first I felt surprise, then I experienced a sense of triumph at this
striking proof of the success which my advertisement had met with, but
finally I had occasion to feel emotions which were very different from
either of these. I had turned as O'Halloran began to read those
familiar words, and after he had finished I mechanically settled myself
into my former position, partly because of the comfort of the thing,
and partly to see how perfectly impartial hearers like these ladies
would listen to this composition of mine. My chief feeling was
precisely the same as animates the artist who stands _incognito_ beside
his picture, to listen to the remarks of spectators; or the author who
hunts through papers to read the criticism on his first book. This, it
is true, was neither a picture nor a book, nor was I either an artist
or an author, yet, after all, this advertisement was a literary effort
of mine, and, what is more, it was the first one that had appeared in
print. Was it any wonder, then, that for those reasons I felt curious
to see the effect of that advertisement?

Now, as I turned, I was in expectation of some sign of feeling on the
part of the ladies--call it surprise; call it sympathy; call it what
you will--but I certainly was not prepared for that very peculiar and
very marked effect whic