"But I say let him out--let him out. Look at him, ladies--look at him. You shall see what a madman is--you shall see how I can manage him. Hark ye, fellow,--out with him at once. Give me your whip--I know all about his treatment. You shall see me work him. I'll manage him,--I'll fight with him, and laugh with him too--how we shall laugh--Ha! Ha! Ha!" His horrible laughter--for it was horrible--was cut short by an unexpected incident. He was knocked down as suddenly as I had been, with a blow from behind, to the astonishment of all around. The assailant was the sheriff of Hamilton jail, who had just arrived and detected the fugitive, Archy Dargan--the most cunning of all bedlamites, as he afterwards assured me--in the person of the handsome Col. Nelson. "I knew the scamp by his laugh--I heard it half a mile," said the sheriff, as he planted himself upon the bosom of the prostrate man, and proceeded to leash him in proper order. Here was a concatenation accordingly. "Who hev' I got in the pen?" was the sapient inquiry of my captor--the fellow whose whip had been so potent over my imagination. "Who? Have you any body there?" demanded the sheriff. "I reckon!--We cocht a chap that Jake made affidavy was the madman." "Let him out then, and beg the man's pardon. I'll answer for Archy Dargan." My appearance before the astonished damsels was gratifying to neither of us. I was covered with mud and blood,--and they with confusion. "Oh! Mr. ----, how could we think it was you, such a fright as they've made you." Such was Miss Emmeline's speech after her recovery. Susannah's was quite as characteristic. "I am so very sorry, Mr. ----." "Spare your regrets, ladies," I muttered ungraciously, as I leapt on my horse. "I wish you a very pleasant morning." "Ha! Ha! Ha!" yelled the bedlamite, writhing and bounding in his leash--"a very pleasant morning." The damsels took to their heels, and went off in one direction quite as fast as I did in the other. Since that day, dear reader, I have never suffered myself to scare a fool, or to fall in love with a pair of twins; and if ever I marry, take my word for it, the happy woman shall neither be a Susannah, nor an Emmeline. THE CHIROPODIST By BAYARD TAYLOR