town the other day, at a time when, according
to his own confession, there was " not a
single soul in all London," by which he
meant, of course, no denizen of its upper
circles.

"Well, Harry," cried he, extending three
lavender-coloured fingers in lieu of the
customary pair, " have you half-an-hour or so to
spare in the service of a blood relation?"

I replied, and very truly, that I always
had half an hour, or half a day for that
matter, at his complete disposal whensoever
he desired my company.

"Very well," answered he, with a frankness
that became him charmingly, " I'm
exceedingly glad of it, for I hate walking
alone, and there's nobody else to walk with.
We will go together and see Dagon."

"And who is Dagon?" inquired I, not
without a sense of shameful ignorance.

"Why Amy Dagon, of course," retorted
he, sharply; " who else should it be?"

"Thank you," responded I, disengaging
my arm from his with a certain virtuous
violence, "my wife wouldn't like it if she
heard of it. In short, you're a man about
town, and I'm not, and I would rather not
see her, whoever she is."

I really did not believe that it was possible
for anybody reared in the best circles to
laugh as the baronet laughed at this reply.
I don't think anybody ever saw him with
tears in his eyes before.

"It's a man," he cried, as soon as he found
breath to speak; " it's Amalek Dagon; and
do you really mean to tell me that you never
heard of the great Dagon before?"

"Never," said I, " never, upon my word,
except as a heathen god."

Cousin Jack looked down upon me—he
has a way of doing that, although I am taller
than he—with an expression as if he was
contemplating some rare and curious zoological
specimen.

"Come along," exclaimed he, " come along.
I would not have missed this for a couple of
ponies. Have you ever chanced to catch the
name of Palmerston, or of Betting Davis, or
of the Tipton Slasher? Indeed! Well I'm
astonished to hear it. This is Trafalgar
Square, and that is the National Cruet-Stand,
and now you shall see another British
institution, who is quite as well known in town
as they."

We turned into the Strand, and rang at
the private door of a house of genteel
appearance. A tidy-looking servant-girl
answered the summons, but requested us to
give our names before informing us whether
her master was at home. Having carried
the baronet's card upstairs, she returned
immediately, and ushered us into a room on
the first floor, plainly but handsomely furnished.
A short and rather vulgar-looking
person, but perfectly well-dressed, rose from
the sofa, at our entrance, and put aside a
sporting paper that he had been reading.

"How are you, Dagon? " said my cousin,
nodding carelessly; " I have brought a friend
of mine to look at you, who has never heard
of your existence before."

The little man smiled in a somewhat
sinister manner, but professed himself
charmed at making the acquaintance of any
friend of Sir John's.

"What is your last achievement, Amy?"
inquired my cousin, with the air of a man
who asks for information for somebody else.
"Anything about you in Bell?"

"An account of a neat little thing we
did upon the Eastern Counties last week;
that's all; a mere trifle, but rather laughable,
too."

"Go on; tell it, Dagon," said my cousin,
yawning unpolitely, " it's sure to be news to
him!"

"Well, sir," replied the little man, addressing
himself to me, "there has been a good
deal of picking up, you must know, on that
line of railway lately."

"Shares improving," interrupted I,
innocently; "ah! so I've heard."

Mr. Amalek Dagon looked interrogatively
towards my cousin, as though he would say,
"Can this ridiculous ignorance be actually
bona fide, or is it affected?"

Sir John Aighton, Baronet, indulged in a
roar of laughter which would have done
honour to a coal-heaver.

"No, sir," replied the little man, softly,
again addressing himself to me, " I did not
exactly allude to the shares; I meant the
sharpers. The card-sharpers and the thimble-
riggers have been doing a great stroke of
business upon that line, of late, particularly
upon the Cambridge gentlemen. A young
fellow-commoner, son of General Blazes,—
whom you know, Sir John,—came to me
only the other day, about his family watch
and other matters, which he had made over
to them; the money was gone, of course,
beyond recovery, and we had a great deal of
difficulty even about the ticker. You see,
they're an exceedingly low set of
practitioners, these thimble people; quite
pettifoggers, sir, with little or no connection
among respectable persons."

"I should imagine that was the case with
most of that sort of gentry," observed I,
"except, perhaps, an involuntary connection
with the police."

Here Mr. Dagon gave a sort of forbearing
smile, which could scarcely be called
appreciatory.

"So," he continued, " I determined to put
these public nuisances down. I took a place
in company with three young gentlemen of
my acquaintance, from the Shoreditch Station
to Cambridge, and two of the parties for
whom I was in search, got into the same
carriage. They had not much luggage
beside a small carpet-bag, but within that
there were three stout sticks, and a round
piece of wood, out of which they ingeniously