place,' sez yer; 'but we've never 'ad nobody in 'ere from theer; they all goes next door' ("And a precious bad lot they are too!" broke in the bystander), and I think you'd better go there too,' which accordingly, zer, I did; and this ere gintlemen wat's so pleasant-loike sent me back to you." 'Just what I did, and I think you'd better take him over; you haven't got anything from that part of the country, you know."

This interlude passed, the Fallen One suddenly said, "Suppose we have a turn with the bones?" "Don't mind it. Don't mind if I do. You throw first." His Darkness produced the box and dice, and threw sixes. The guardian of the other place looked calmly on, sniffed, took up the box, and deliberately threw SEVENS.

CHAPTER VIII.

Bradshaw, not Bible-Lord Tennyson and the £600 charge— Chief Justice Bovill-"Take the lost time out of your speech""-"We're on our oaths the same as you are"Lord Palmerston turned teetotaller-Diaconal troublesGeorge III. and his Prayer Book-The late Duke of Cambridge and the Decalogue-Sudden deaths of rich menShadowing of statesmen-High art suicide-Dean Stanley and the Hibbert Lectures-The Rev. Olympia Brown-Earl Percy sees my fall-Unfortunate upset to two clergymen— Ministers and their shadows-The Countess' return visit— Tischendorf and the Codex Sinaiticus-How he humbugged the Cardinal over the Vatican MS.-£300 for a sheet of paper-The harmless ghost-Chief Baron Kelly; once grocer in Oxford Street-The starting-place of the Pollocks -Huddersfield all Ramsden now-Lord Chancellor Westbury and his eldest son-Largest sum ever earned by a Junior-" One of 'em hit me or else both of 'em”—The Irish jurymen's proper place-The effect of colour on a criminal case-Safe escape from a train going two hundred miles an hour-Judges' and Counsellors' coloured trousers -How judges have sometimes been appointed-Huddleston as a French scholar-Judge tired of the Bench-Judge sick of a case-Counsel's change of front.

MUCH has been written upon the charm

of the study of books, and lists have been made out of those of them which can convey the greatest amount of delight in the shortest time to appreciative and receptive

minds; but here, as everywhere else, there are exceptions. The present Bishop of Oxford was lately addressing eight hundred school children at Reading. He advised them to turn all their attention to books, as being the best guides on the path of life, the best supporters in its trials and chances, the best consolation in their frequent stumbles and falls; and then went on: "Alas! for me the study of books is at an end; all my time is taken up in going to and fro in my diocese, all my anxiety during the day is how to catch trains, all my reflections when the day is over as to how I came to miss them. To one book alone all my time and study is given,-I have time for no other, it is never out of my hands, I carry it wherever I go. Children, can you tell me the name of that book? It begins with a 'B."" All hands were held up, and from eight hundred voices in all manner of shrill squeaks came, "Please, sir, I know; the Bible, sir." The answer came sorrowfully, "No, indeed, children-it's Bradshaw."

Nor does the reading of books, even out loud for the benefit of others, always leave behind it soothing and restful recollections.

Many years ago a great Northern Peer was passing the autumn at his ancestral domain. He had invited sundry guests to visit him, but had been suddenly compelled to go away for three or four days. The establishment was

THE POET'S VISIT.

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left in charge of his sister, who acted as housekeeper, and the other then members of the family consisted of his eldest son and his tutor -a friend of long standing looking in every day to render any help that might be required. One day this gentleman found the lady in tears; she had a visiting card in her hand on which was written the name

"MR. ALFRED TENNYSON."

"Oh, Mr. Eelymann, what shall I do? My brother told me he had asked this horrid man and his wife to come here, and I was to take them in and make them comfortable, and let my brother know as quickly as possible. Now he's gone to Inverclatachin, and there's no telegraph there, and it will be a day before I can communicate with him-and whatever am I to do?" "Do, Lady Haweis? Send down for him, bring him here; I'll keep him company." "But he's got his wife with him." "Well, that will be company for you. I've always understood Mrs. Tennyson was a very nice person." "Oh, but, Mr. Eelymann, you don't know; that horrid man can't bear me." "Nonsense, why shouldn't he?" "Oh, but you don't know-you don't know all." "Then tell me all." Well, you see, it's like this. I once went to Stafford House to hear him read something -something he'd written. It was some charge

of £600 they'd made him, and he was very angry about it, and made us very uncomfortable; for he kept shouting out 'Charged me six hundred,' and I got frightened and wanted to go out, and I had to pass him,--had to go very close to him, too, and I brushed against him, and then he broke out afresh :

"Jamming to right of me,
Jamming to left of me,
Charged me six hundred.'

Then he stopped short and looked at meoh, such a look!-and nobody would open the door, and I felt as if I must sink into the ground with him glaring at me. I'm sure he never will forget it." "Oh, yes, Lady Haweis, he's forgotten all about that; at all events, there's your brother's orders, he must come here. I will go down and bring him up, and stop here until he goes away; so you'll only have his wife."

The scene changes to the head inn of the town close by, with Mr. Eelymann entering. "Oh, Mr. Tennyson, I've come down from the house to say that his lordship has been unexpectedly called away and can't be back for a day or so, but he's left orders for us to make you comfortable, and I've come down to fetch you up." "Let me introduce you to Mrs. Tennyson." "Oh, Lady Haweis will be so