Page:Henry Northcote (IA henrynorthcote00snairich).pdf/183

 and more in harmony with his surroundings, than when he entered this room, and asked me in a mincing tone, with all the aitches misplaced, whether in my opinion any obstacle would be raised against his getting his evening clothes out of pawn, as he desired to wear them in the dock during his trial."

"For the love of pity, spare me!" cried Northcote, pressing his fingers into his ears, "or I shall run away."

"The gentleman with the protruding lip on the second shelf towards the window is, unless my eyes deceive me, one Bateman, who slaughtered his maiden aunt with a chopper and buried her in a drain—"

Northcote spared himself further details in the history of Mr. Bateman by laying violent hands upon his counterfeit presentment, and hurling it with terrific force against the iron window bar, whence it fell to the floor in a thousand pieces.

"Upon my soul, I have a great mind to go through the lot," he said, livid with fury.

"Pray do so, by all means, dear boy," said Mr. Whitcomb, with that unction which never forsook him, "and you will find your art-loving countrymen will avenge this outrage upon the private and peculiar form of their culture by one day insisting that your own effigy is placed on these historic shelves."