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Rh entertained us with an account of "a great time" with Mike the night before.

Presently we passed a pretty little cottage between the canal and the river; over the low garden gate leant a young woman, whom Johnnie Curran saluted thus:

"Evenin', Julia."

"Evenin', Johnnem."

Johnnie, with a wink at us, to cover his duplicity:

"Mike here Sunday?"

"No," sulkily; "but he was up at Steele's."

"Well—he'll come next Sunday."

"Don't care if he never comes."

"Oh, yes you do. Good-by, Julia."

"No, I don't. Good-by Johnnem." Pause of moment.

"Say, Johnnem!"

"What is it?"

"You needn't tell Mike I said that."

"No fear, Julia. I'll tell him to come up Sunday."

And Johnnie Curran laughed low to himself, as if he knew the ways of womankind. It was a dismal drizzly evening, and we had to go along till ten o'clock. Then, at Lambertville, we were to tie up till morning. As the night grew the rain increased, and at ten it was a steady