IN RE-PINKERTON'S INSURANCE. PART I.-How Mr. Briefless, Junior accepted a Reference. "I AM going to ask you to do me a slight favour," said PINKERTON, "but if you grant it, it will confer a chronic blessing on my whole life." I need scarcely say I was only too pleased to be of the slightest service to PINKERTON. He occupies chambers beneath those bearing my name (and others), and when I visit Pump Handle Court I usually run across him. He is considerably my junior, both in years and professional standing. This being so, i thought it possible he might wish to consult me. "If you desire my counsel on the conduct of a consent brief- "I began. 'Oh, no, it's nothing of that sort," interrupted my learned friend. "The fact is, as I am going to be married I want to insure my life." "A very proper thing to do," I said, heartily. "When undertaking the responsibilities of the married state, which are, in reality, bound by an expressed contract, it is desirable"Yes, yes," again interrupted PINKERTON, "I know all that, but the fact is, in your unprofessional capacity I want you to do me a favour." I was a little annoyed at my learned friend's tone. Although I do not appear in the Courts quite so frequently as I did in the days of my hot youth-yet as recently as shortly before the long vacation I was briefed to support an application for the appointment of a receiver in chambers-I am regarded, and I think rightly regarded, as a legal authority of weight in the bosom of my family. My maiden aunt, CAROLINE ADELAIDE, invariably consults me before adding (she has added several) a codicil to her will, and as for Uncle JACK-a most vigorous old gentleman of ninety-four-he keeps me quite busily employed in reading his letters to the Urban Council. My maiden Aunt, CAROLINE ADELAIDE, was so she said-infinitely obliged to me for my opinion on the probable validity of a legacy left to a parrot, and Uncle JACK was equally thankful when I prevented him from sending, as a privileged communication, his opinion in writing to the clerk of the U. C. anent the District Surveyor that that individual was a "blithering idiot," and what was worse from a legal point of view-"tip receiver." Uncle JACK agreed with me, on recovering from his attack of gout, that his "privileged communication" would probably have landed him in Holloway. So I repeat, I was displeased with PINKERTON's tone-it savoured of disrespect. "I am nothing if not professional," I said, with a grave smile. "Of course, I shall be only too pleased to serve you." "Well, it's only to become my surety. The medical Johnny who examined me said I was right enough, but he must have a form filled in by a friend of some years' standing before he could recommend his board to accept me." "I see," I returned. "I shall be very happy, but I am bound to say that I shall have to answer the questions put me with the nicest regard as to their truthfulness." "I expect nothing less," said PINKERTON, in rather a nasty tone. Of course, my dear fellow, I don't want you to tell a pack of lies, but still, if you have any hesitation about it I can easily get GEORGE DE PUTRE POTTE to "Not at all," I replied, promptly. I don't like DE PUTRE POTTE. He suggests to my mind a donkey suffering from exaggerated self-complacency. And the matter was settled. "You might give me a hint or two," I continued. "How did you get on with the examining doctor? 'What, the medical Johnny? Oh, first rate. He weighed me, and said I was satisfactory to an ounce." I was a little surprised at this, as PINKERTON is distinctly thin. I myself am only fifteen stone to five feet nine, and I am certainly portly as compared with my learned friend. "Then he punched me in the chest and listened with a thing like one of those theatrical telephone-tubes to hear the echoes." "And was the condition of your lungs to his satisfaction? "Eminently-he said I was as sound as a bell. Then he made me hop about the room on one leg like a demented duck." "I see. No doubt to test the muscles of your foot." I have some knowledge of anatomy. "Probably. Then he listened for the music again, and declared my heart to be perfection. I was very pleased, as, to tell the truth, I had rather worried myself by reading The Dictionary of the Incurable, by Doctor ZERO." "Unquestionably a text-book of commanding importance." "So I thought until I found that I had the symptoms of fifteen fatal diseases, of which two thirds should terminate abruptly within a week." "I need scarcely say that your apprehension was not realised?" I am apt sometimes to become unconsciously a crossexaminer. "You are perfectly right in that assumption. I am still alive, and if I may believe the medical Johnny, have no need to make In fact, as the doctor bade my will for the next twenty years. me adieu, he predicted that I would be on the books of the company until I was eighty." "Distinctly satisfactory." "So I thought. So, my dear fellow, when the form arrives, fill it in according to the dictates of your conscience." "That I assuredly will," I returned, heartily, as I wrung PINKERTON's hand warmly. "I am confident that all will be well." "I would be grieved beyond measure if I did not share in that belief," said my learned friend. "ALICE is the dearest girl alive." And then PINKERTON gave me a detailed account of how, when, and where he had met his fiancée, and other details from his point of view-of an interesting character. At length he left me, and I turned my attention to my notes upon a book I contemplate writing some day, to be called, From the Gown of the Student to the Chancellor's Wig, with the sub-title of The Experiences of a Practising Barrister, when my admirable and excellent clerk PORTINGTON entered the room. "I think, Sir, this is something more than a circular," he said. I allow my valued assistant a certain latitude in the selection of documents to be destroyed or preserved. "Thank you," I replied, and then I opened an envelope bearing a type-written name and address. I glanced at the contents. A form to be filled in about the health of PINKERTON. I read the questions more carefully, and my mind became much disturbed. They were distinctly of an embarrassing character. How I replied to them, and what was the effect of my answers must be reserved for another chapter. Pump-Handle Court. (Signed) December 1, 1897. A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR. SOME "SIDE-SHOWS" WHICH MESSRS. BARNUM AND BAILEY SHOULD NOT OMIT AT OLYMPIA. ("Among the animals at Olympia are some which are curious freaks of nature. . . . The most singular of these is Jo-Jo, who is a union of a perfect with an imperfect human organism."-Times.] SEASONABLE LITERATURE. unmoved by the sound of church bells in HARRY," said Sir JASPER, with a sob strangely foreign to his wonted lack of feeling, "you must forgive me. I don't deserve it, I know. Through forty-seven pages my ingenious schemes have kept you and your MARY apart, and if that missing will hadn't turned up, I should have won the game. But you won't be hard on a "I thank you!" cried Sir JASPER. "Now poor old villain, HARRY, my boy? There's that you've foiled all my schemes, I was only a page or two more, so you can afford sure you'd forgive me. My regards to to be generous. And, if my words are Miss MARY, and after a few glasses of hot weak, that sound will reach your heart-brandy-and-water, I'll step round to the the sound of Christmas bells!" Hall." Christmas revel. And there was roast beef, and mistletoe, and Sir Roger de Coverley, and snapdragon, and blind-man's buff, and ghost stories, and love-making, and, above all, gallons and gallons of punch. Not till every drop of the latter was finished did the company disperse. Finally they left in pairs, to be married next morning, and to live happily ever after, which is the only proper way of finishing up an old-fashioned Christmas number. THE SAME CHAPTER. (1897.) At the window of the foulest garret in the slums of London (for full description, vide previous pages), HARRY the hero stood and twiddled his thumbs. With a languid interest he watched a cat in the yard lick its paw, and miaow twice. Then he turned to his companion and regarded him curiously. "JASPER," he said, with a yawn, "don't you think we might as well end somewhere here?" "Just as you like," answered JASPER, who was sitting on a dust-heap in the far corner. "It really doesn't matter where we stop in a story of this kind, one place does as well as another." "There isn't much to go on with," replied HARRY, thoughtfully chewing a piece of string. "Now that you've murdered MARY, and all the others are disposed of, it's about time to finish. I can't go on talking to you for many more pages." "Why not?" JASPER replied. "We can always fill up the gaps with 'dreary silences.' Surely you don't hate me?" HARRY sighed. "Nobody hates in modern stories-that is far too strong an emotion. But, as you've killed my fiancée, besides murdering three other characters, and driving five more to suicide, I do slightly dislike you. Here's the poison bottle, and there's just enough left for us both. You're sure none of the others are left out by mistake? How about that Costermonger mentioned on the second page ?" "Sent to penal servitude," responded JASPER. "And his wife has gone mad in consequence, and killed off three minor characters who weren't accounted for. As vou say, we may as well stop; we've provided a splendid story for a modern Christmas number. Pass the poison bottle when you've taken your share. And don't forget to make a vague remark just before you die-readers expect it." HARRY nodded, and having consumed a pint of pure prussic acid, handed the remainder to JASPER, who quickly swallowed the rest. For a few moments there was silence. Then HARRY sat up. "Why didn't he boil the butter?" he murmured. Then there was a dreary silence. ALL THE DIFFERENCE.-The Daily News published an article, which, under the title of "Rowing and Rowing Men," reviewed the fourth volume of the Isthmian Library, by Messrs. R. C. LEHMANN, GUY NICKALLS, and others, under the able editorship or editorboat, in this instance-of Mr. B. FLETCHER ROBINSON. There is a Crum of thorough-going style. All of them were comfort in it for Etonians; and E. G. there, the hero HARRY, and the heroine BLACKMORE interests us in Australian MARY, and the villain JASPER, together eights. But the title of the book is miswith the old-fashioned uncle, the humorous leading, for "Rowing and Rowing Men mother-in-law, and lots of other characters suggests a comparison between "the Rowwho have been mentioned incidentally in ing Men "Rowdies" of a past genethe story, and long since forgotten. Every ration and the temperate and quiet Rowing one of them turned up for the old-fashioned Men, i.e., oarsmen, of to-day. He flung open the window as he spoke, And that night they revelled in the most and the chimes from the sweet old village church sounded merrily across the snowcovered fields. "JASPER," answered HARRY, in impressive tones, "I forgive you. If, indeed, I followed my natural inclination, I should throw you out of window. But no true hero in a Christmas number was ever yet or |