the expense of his new acquaintance, who, that day, was so overjoyed to find that the stage of the "Monopoly" was compelled to go the whole route entirely empty, that his hilarity and flow of boisterous humour knew no bounds, and he snapped his fingers, and said he did not care a fig for the expense

-not he?

"Here's to the People's Line !" drank Jonathan. "The People's Line for ever!" shouted the driver. "And confusion to the Monopoly !" rejoined the down-easter.

"With all my heart!" echoed the friend of the people.

"The Flying Dutchman is deficient in publick spirit!" said the landlord, a warlike little fellow, who was a major in the militia.

"Behind the age we live in !" remarked a justice

of the peace.

"And he deserves to run the gauntlet from Brooklyn to Jamaica for violating the constitution!" responded all the patriotick inmates of the bar-room.

"I say, mister! you're a fine specimen of a liberal fellow," said Jonathan, as his companion paid the reckoning, resumed the ribands, and touched up the leaders gayly. "You deserve encouragement, and you shall have it. I promise it to you, my lad," continued he, as he slapped the "People's Line" on the shoulder like an old and familiar friend, “and that's enough. The Flying Dutchman, forsooth! why, he's a hundred years at least behind the grand march of improvement, and, as he will never be able to overtake it, I shall henceforward look upon him as a mere abstract circumstance, unworthy of the least regard or notice."

Jonathan weighed every word of the last sentence before he pronounced it, for he was, upon the whole, rather a cute chap, and had no notion of letting his friendship for the one party involve him in a law-suit for a libel on the other.

The overjoyed proprietor thanked him heartily for his good wishes, and for the expression of his contempt for the old "Monopoly," and the lumbering vehicle thundered on toward Jamaica.

Arrived, at last, at the termination of the journey,

the driver unharnassed the horses, watered them, and put them up for the night. When he turned to take his own departure, however, he observed that Jonathan, who, after all said and done, candour compels us to acknowledge, had rather a hang-dog sort of look, seemed fidgetty and discontented; that he lingered about the stable, and followed him like a shadow wherever he bent his steps.

"Do you stop in this town, or do you go further?" asked the driver.

"I shall go further, when you settle the trifle you owe me," replied Jonathan, with a peculiar, knowing, but serious expression.

"That I owe you?"

"Yes-is there not something between us ?" "Not that I know of."

"Why, mister, what a short memory you've got -you should study mnemonicks, to put you in mind of your engagements."

"What do you mean ? There must be some

mistake!"

"Oh! but there's no mistake at all," said Jonathan, as he pulled a handbill from his pocket, unfolded it with care, and smoothed it out upon the table. It was the identical mammoth handbill with the ponderous capitals.

"That's what I mean. Look there, Mr. People's Line. There I have you, large as life—and no

mistake whatever. That's your note of hand-it's a fair business transaction-and I will trouble you for the twenty-five cents, in less than no time; so shell it out, you 'tarnal crittur."

"My christian friend, allow me to explain, if you please. I confess that it's in the bill; but, bless your simple soul, nobody ever thinks of asking me

for it."

"Now,

"Did you ever!" ejaculated Jonathan. that's what I call cutting it a leetle too fat! but it's nothing to me. I attend to nobody's affairs but my own; and if other people are such ninnyhammers as to forgive you the debt, that's no reason why I should follow their bad example. Here are your conditions, and I want the mopuses. A pretty piece

of business, truly, to endeavour to do your customers out of their just and legal demands in this manner. But I can't afford to lose the amount, and I won't!

-What! haven't I freely given you my patronage -liberally bestowed upon you the pleasure of my company, and, consequently, afforded you a triumph over that narrow-contracted 'Monopoly?' and now you refuse to comply with your terms of travel, and pay me my money, you ungrateful varmint, you! Come, mister, it's no use putting words together in this way. I'll expose you to 'old Monopoly' and everybody else, if you don't book-up like an honest fellow; and I won't leave the town until I am satisfied."

"You won't ?"

"No."

"Are you serious?"

"Guess you'll find I am."

"And you will have the money?"

"As sure as you stand there."

66

'What, the twenty-five cents ?"

"Every fraction of it."

"And you won't go away without it ?"

"Not if I stay here till doomsday: and you know the consequence of detaining me against my will." "What is it ?"

"I'll swinge you, you pyson sarpent, you !" “You'll what ?”