and saw men and boys of yesterday springing
into importance in close consultation with
our steady old bankers, it was impossible
not to feel discontented. I repeated to myself
all the cautious proverbs—" Slow and
sure;" "More haste worse speed;" "What's
earned over the devil's back is spent," &c.;
and then met some one whom I had considered
a stupid fellow, who would stop me to show
a letter of allotment he was going to sell for
ever so many hundred pounds.

I could not help imparting my discontent
one day to Joseph Sleekleigh, the cashier of
the chief bank at Mudborough. Sleekleigh was
deacon of our chapel, universally considered a
safe, steady man of business, and the future
manager of the Joint Stock Bank whenever
old Dummy, who had held it from the
commencement, died. To this Sleekleigh
answered, "Well, if we were to do anything, it
ought to be on a large scale. These allotments
are but paltry affairs for men like you
and me."

A few Sundays after this conversation,
Sleekleigh called upon me, and said, as soon
as we were alone in the garden, "B, are
you ready to go into a really good thing on
a large scale? Are you prepared, in fact, to
back your luck, and make a fortune?
Because, if you are, I have a chance for you."

I told him how disappointed I had been
by my father-in-law's infamous deception.
So he went on to say, "You know my
nephew, young Tom Slum, who returned
from Australia the other day."

"Yes, of course; always smoking cigars,
drives hired tandems, goes to races with
prize-fighters. I have seen him, and could
never understand how a respectable man like
you could have such a young ruffian for his
nephew."

"Well well," said Sleekleigh, "he is rather
wild, but not such a fool as he seems. He
now and then collects information worth
having, for the bank; and, although of course
I can't receive him at my own house, I do
meet him occasionally. Tom has a secret that
may be worth a hundred thousand. Think
of that. So make up your mind. Will you
go in with me into the speculation?"

After further consultation, I consented to
draw a check in four figures; he then
confided to me that Slum had been making love
to the good-looking housekeeper of Alderman
Rugg, a widower, and chairman of the
Pinnacle Junction Railway, and that he, or
rather she for him, had discovered that a
secret plan was nearly completed, for buying
the Granite Valley Continuation in ten per cent
stock; indeed, Mrs. Jenny had somehow or
other got possession of the torn pieces of the
original draft memorandum, prepared at a
private dinner between the alderman and
Lawyer Cockle.

To cut a long story short, I was tempted
to go into the affair. I went to the London
broker who had always bought Consols                                                   for for me, quietly collected shares, and made
large time bargains in the Granite Valley
Continuation, then at fifty per cent discount.
In three weeks we divided nearly a hundred
thousand pounds! Yes, you may stare, a
hundred thousand pounds. The news of the
amalgamation came out in less than a week
after I had operated. Up went the shares;
two hundred per cent premium; the directors
who, in consequence of our getting
into the secret, had not made quite as much
as they expected, took the public while it
was in the humour, and issued a lot of
new extension shares. Of course we got
our quota, and there was another famous
pull. My total third came to thirty-two
thousand pounds, nineteen shillings, and
fourpence.

You can't expect that I was going to attend
to my beggarly business after that. Besides,
this coup having been effected by me alone,
ostensibly, gave me an immense reputation
among the most knowing hands as a sharp
man of business,—they never guessed how I
got my information, and I was overwhelmed
with offers of shares in good things, with
seats in provisional committees, besides being
consulted about plans for all sorts of
undertakings. I never knew before how quick,
how intelligent I was. I had been noted on
our little 'Change for the decided way in
which I underwrote a doubtful ship; in my
new line this served me wonderfully. I
dined with a great East Indian, and got a
letter of introduction which gave me two
hundred shares in the celebrated Punjaub
and Cape Comorin Railway,—deposit five
shillings. I sold them the day following, for
twelve pounds premium. I was a director of
the Great Metropolis and Mudborough
Direct; of the Great Metropolis and Coalboro'
Direct, and half-a-dozen other great
projects. We brought them all out at ten
pounds premium and every director had a
thousand shares. We were quite above anything
at less than ten pounds premium, and the
Coalboro' we brought out at twenty-five pounds.
When I think that all the Directs but
one have been wound up with a heavy
loss; that the Punjaubs have been sold at
two shillings and sixpence discount, and that
the lines at work which were at two hundred
and fifty pounds are now at ninety pounds
each it drives me almost mad.

I got into a completely new line of life
and set of society, instead of the aldermen
whom I used to think it a great honour to dine
with. I was intimate with lords and M.P's.
Our Direction Boards were regular happy
families. No prejudices, politics, or religion,
or rank, or birth prevailed there. We had
Lord Jennet, who came in with William the
Conqueror, and Trimmer the banker, whose
father kept a gin-shop; and Muggins, who
had been on the turf, but found the Stock
Exchange more profitable; the Honourable
Peter Plaudit, M.P., the celebrated radical