“Exquisitely rendered, I am sure,” he said--“exquisitely rendered. Praise from Mr. De Blacquaire is worth having, let me tell you, Fuller. Mr. De Blacquaire is himself a distinguished musician. Ah! my old friend Eld! How do you do? how do you do?” This greeting was addressed to Sennacherib, who had arisen on the earl's arrival, had deliberately turned his back, and was now engaged in turning over the leaves of music which lay on the table before him. “Sennacherib,” said Isaiah, mildly, “his lordship's a-talking to thee.” “I can hear,” responded Sennacherib, “as he's a-talking to one on us. As for me, I'm none the better for being axed.” “And none the worse, I hope,” said his lordship, as cheerily as he could. “Nayther wuss nor better, so far as I can see,” replied Sennacherib. “Come, come, Mr. Eld,” said Fuller. “Harmony! harmony!” “I was a-tekin' my walks abroad this mornin',” said Sennacherib, still bending over his music, “when I see that petted hound of the vicar's mek a fly at a mongrel dog as had a bone. The mongrel run for it and took the bone along with him. It comes into my mind now as if the hound had known a month or two aforehand as he'd want that bone, he'd ha' made friends wi' the mongrel.” This parable was so obviously directed at his lordship and his young _protégé_ that Sennacherib's companions looked and felt ill at ease. Fuller was heard to murmur “Harmony!” but a disconcerted silence fell on all, and his lordship took snuff while he searched for a speech which should turn the current of conversation into a pleasanter channel. The Earl of Barfield was particularly keen in his desire to run Mr. Ferdinand de Blacquaire for the county, and to run him into Parliament. Ferdinand himself was much less keen about the business, and regarded it all as a mingled joke and bore. This being the case, he felt free to avoid the ordinary allures of the parliamentary candidate, and, apart from that, he had, with himself at least, a reputation to sustain as a man of wit. “Has this mongrel a bone?” he asked, in a silky tone. “Let him keep it.” His lordship shot a glance of surprised wrath at him, almost of horror, but Sennacherib began to chuckle. “Pup's got a bite in him,” said Sennacherib--“got a bite in him.” His lordship felt a little easier, and looking about him discovered that everybody was smiling more or less, though on one or two faces the smile sat uneasily. “Come, come, Mr. Eld,” said Fuller, “harmony!” “Ah!” cried the earl, seizing gladly on the word. “Let us have a little harmony. Don't let our presence disturb your music. Mr. Eld is a local notability, Ferdinand. Mr. Eld speaks his mind to everybody. I'm afraid he's on the other side, and in that case you'll have many a tussle with him before you come to the hustings. Eh? That's so, isn't it, Eld? Eh? That's so?” “Oh,” said Sennacherib, with the slow local drawl, “we'll tek a bit of a wrastle now and again, I mek no manner of a doubt.”