“Muggins, sir! who is Muggins?” demanded the Doctor, waspishly: “is Muggins, sir, a fit judge when such an enterprise is in question—an enterprise to reflect eternal honour, sir, on its spirited and high-feluting projectors, with the finger of ignominy to point at the craven that draws back. Muggins! some stony-hearted London capitalist—some toad-eater at the beck of a bloated aristocracy—some miserable haunter of the gilded saloons of a Chancellor of the Exchequer” (the doctor was not very particular as to the authenticity of the accusations he flung broadcast). “Muggins, indeed!” Tom Harris was an ingenuous youth. He looked excessively ashamed of his allusion to Muggins, and was quite borne down by the volubility of his transatlantic opponent. Thus it came about that a meeting was arranged for the next day at Colonel Sling’s chambers, at which we were to discuss the propriety of forming a company to work out the concession of the Nauvoo and Nebraska Railway, of which our American friends were the fortunate owners. I was an older man than Tom Harris, and had necessarily seen more of the world. And I had been “bit,” as the phrase goes, once or twice, by Mexican Debentures, Spanish Deferred, and unsaleable Scrip. I therefore asked, as delicately as I could, why my new acquaintances had not raised among the enlightened capitalists of their own country a sufficient amount to pay all preliminary expenses, thus keeping the golden fruit entirely among Americans. But the Colonel had an answer ready for me. He frowned, pursed up his month, bit his lips, and assumed very much the air of a conspirator. “Hush!” he uttered, in tragic tones; then rushing to the door, whisked it open, putting to rout Adolphus the page, who always is listening at keyholes, in spite of repeated corporal punishment. Adolphus scuttled away across the hall in great dismay, and the Colonel returned to his seat with an expression that Iago might have envied. “Hush!” said he, “walls have auriculars, and spies are always on the watch to re-port the words of Columbia’s children. It is well known that your arbitrary Government has long adopted the wicked maxim due to the crafty forethought of your Pitt, Earl of Holland, that ‘America’s danger is England’s opportunity.’” I could not help laughing as I answered, “I am afraid, Colonel, your memory has not rendered the passage in exactly its original form.” “Excuse me,” croaked the Doctor, “but nothing is more wonderful than the ignorance which prevails in Britain, with regard to the sayings and doings of your grandees and public persons.” “Allow me, Doctor,” said the Colonel, oracularly, “to finish my explanation. You see, gentlemen, we might have offered this concession in Wall Street in the Empire City, and Wall Street would have snapped it up; yes, sir, as an alligator would chaw pork.”