had been spreading the beef on Trenton crackers. But let no one think him an ascetic, or a miser, for there was no gayer, more generous old gentleman in the city. A lawyer of repute, the president or secretary of many prominent societies, he was also a bon vivant. He presided at public banquets, and gave toasts as no younger man would presume to do, so finely rhetorical were his habits of expression; and he was, also, always one of the pall-bearers to any dead man of distinction in the city: so both at feasts and funerals was he a familiar figure. He was a tall, spare man, and he wore a very black wig, and handsome gold glasses. His office coat was ancient and shiny, and as I talked to him I watched a moth-worm wriggling on the velvet collar; but the rest of his dress was neat and handsome. He was a courteous old gentleman, but he could be roused to quick resentment if any one shouted into his ear-trumpet. He had no use for view-halloos, he said. I was always well received by him, and he always told me stories of old singers and musicians, because he fancied that I cared for music only, although I always went to him on business, and he also always told me that he was the oldest man since Noah, and that he well remembered my uncle, "but as a figure in my panorama of yesterday; and a fine, handsome figure he makes," he would add, "as I recall him both in his house and in public." That he had a history dating back to Noah I could believe, so curious and ancient were his surroundings, and so suggestive was he of that animal called the elephant by us, which has been left over by mistake, the sole survivor of a curious creation.
He listened to the story which I told into his trumpet in a voice as quiet and clear as I could make it, and he nodded approbation as I spoke.
"Your uncle," he said, "was too good a business-man to be careless, and, as you say, he negotiated the purchase. Still, the title must be looked after. Of course I am out of active business, except for some old clients; but my nephews will do it as well and readily. Bernard!" he called.
From behind the bureau, where he had managed to have a desk bestowed, appeared Bernard Mendoza, one of these nephews. He had peeped out and smiled when I first appeared, and had, necessarily, heard my story.
"Where is Duncan?" asked Mr. Griswold.
"Shall I call him?"
"Are you a Quaker or a Yankee, that you answer me by asking a question?"
"Neither, thank heaven," replied the young man, who was a South Carolinian of Spanish family, "and Duncan is, I suppose, in his office."
"Go and bring him here," said his uncle; "and come yourself, for you have a chance to oblige some very good and very lovely Ladies."
Young Mendoza smiled and nodded, and off he went. I knew both of these young men, and Bernard Mendoza I heartily liked. He looked like a Spaniard, and this pleased me, because I dreaded fair men, remembering Ogden, and he held his head well, as became his blood, and he was frank and cordial in his manner. Duncan Macfar-
