gorgeous plush and cold braid of a footman; and they were standing upon the very spot where Lisbeth and I had stood, and in almost the exact attitude—it was desecration. I stood stock still despite the Imp's frantic tugs at my coat all other feelings swallowed up in one of half-amused resentment. Thus the resplendent footman happened to turn his head, presently espied me, and removing his plush-clad arm from the waist of the trim maid-servant, and doubling his fists, strode towards us with a truly terrible mien. 

 "And w'ot might your game be?" he inquired, with that supercilious air inseparable to plush and gold braid; "oh, I know your kind, I do—I know yer!" 

 "Then, fellow," quoth I, "I know not thee, by Thor, I swear it and Og the Terrible, King of Bashan!" 

 "'Ogs is it?"  said he indignantly, "don't get trying to come over me with yer 'ogs; no nor yet yer fellers! The question is, wo't are you 'anging round 'ere for?"  Now, possibly deceived by my pacific attitude, or inspired by the bright eyes of the trim maid-servant, he seized me, none too gently, by the collar, to the horrified dismay of the Imp. 

 "Nay, but I will, give thee moneys—" 

 "You are a-going to come up to the 'ouse with me, and no blooming nonsense either; d'ye 'ear?" 

 "Then must I needs smite thee for a barbarous dog—hence—base slave—begone!"  Wherewith I delivered what is technically known in "sporting" circles as a "right hook in the ear," followed by a "left swing to the chin," and my assailant immediately disappeared behind a bush, with a flash of pink silk calves and buckled shoes. Then, while the trim maidservant filled the air with her lamentations, the imp and I ran hot-foot for the wall, over which I bundled him neck and crop, and we set off pell-mell along the river-path. 

 "Oh, Uncle Dick," he panted, "how—how fine you are! you knocked yon footman—I mean varlet—from his saddle like—like anything. Oh, I do wish you would play like this every night!" 

 "Heaven forbid!" I exclaimed fervently. 

 Coming at last to the shrubbery gate, we paused awhile to regain our breath. 

 "Uncle Dick," said the Imp, regarding me with a thoughtful eye, "did you see his arm—I mean before you smote him 'hip and thigh'?" 

 "I did." 

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