He knew who the visitor was; and after rapidly writing the name on a slip of paper, took it into an inner room. Mr Hadleigh glanced over some bills which were lying on the counter announcing the dates of sailing of a number of A1 clippers and first-class screw-steamers to all parts of the world. The clerk reappeared, and with a polite, ‘Will you walk in, sir?’ held the door of the inner room open till Mr Hadleigh passed in, and then closed it. Mr Wrentham rose from his table, holding out his hand. ‘Glad to see you here, Mr Hadleigh—very glad. I hope it is business that brings you?’ ‘Yes—important business,’ was the answer. CURIOUS ANTIPATHIES IN ANIMALS. I. HORSES. My late father-in-law, a physician in extensive practice, once possessed a horse named Jack, which was celebrated for his many peculiarities and his great sagacity. One of his antipathies was a decided hatred to one particular melody, the well-known Irish air, _Drops of Brandy_. If any one began to whistle or hum this air, Jack would instantly show fight by laying his ears back, grinding his teeth, biting and kicking, but always recovering his good temper when the music ceased. No other melody or music of any kind ever affected him; you might whistle or sing as long as you liked, provided you did not attempt the objectionable Irish air. One of the doctor’s nephews and Jack were great friends. The lad could do almost anything with him; but if he presumed to whistle the objectionable melody of Erin, Jack would show his displeasure by instantly pulling off the lad’s cap and biting it savagely, but never attempting the smallest personal injury to the boy himself, and always exhibiting his love when the sounds ceased; thus saying, as plainly as a horse could say: ‘We are great friends, and I love you very much; but pray, don’t make that odious noise, to which I entertain a very strong objection.’