at golden dainties; here, in the cellar, all the works and labours, the commands and services of the world, are shown by the imp in action—drawn into life, for a brief space, from what was a moment before bars of inert metal. It is, my son, as if all the world outside of the walls of the Bank, was imitated by the world’s masters down in the Bank cellars. I can see the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen in little men of gold not bigger than an Alderman’s thumb: and here they act in the metal itself what the metal makes acted in the flesh outside.” [Pg 26] “And for what purpose—I don’t see the use of it,” said the young flea. “As a farewell show to our dreamer here. And he is mightily pleased with it,—for he rubs his hands, and then rubs his heart as though he found all happiness there.” “And has he found it, think you?” asked the youngster. “Humph! That will be seen,” said the old one. CHAPTER III. It was mid-day when Mrs. Jericho next entered her bed-room. She came in, humming a little piece of a song. Whereupon, the culprit between the sheets took courage to observe—“I don’t think I ever passed so wretched a night.” “Considering the night was over when you came home, Mr. Jericho, you of course are the best judge. How should I know anything about it?” Such was the home-thrust relentlessly given by Mrs. Jericho. She would not be mollified. “I went, my dear,”—began Jericho. [Pg 27] [Pg 27] The outraged wife would not be insulted. Suddenly twisting round, as though stung by the hypocritic tenderness, Mrs. Jericho desired the man to keep his fine words for people out of doors. Her eyes were at length opened; she had a long time—too long—been fondly blind; but at last she knew all; she was satisfied, and—she again repeated it—she would not be insulted. Jericho was not to be diverted into a quarrel. Pacific man! He would struggle to keep the peace. Hence, in tones, feloniously intended to soften and cajole, he returned to what he called the terrors of the past night. “If I were to live
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