"Her lips to mine how often did she join. Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing! How many tales to please me did she coin. Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing! Yet in the midst of all her pure protesting. Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jesting." But what cared I? I whistled her off, and took another, for they're as thick as mulberries, my son. And I'd like to have my time over again, pleasures, pains, and all. But this is not to the point, and yet it is, although the lines will not apply--that is to say, I hope not.' I listened in anxiety; I was well acquainted with old Mac's character by this time, and I knew it would be useless to interrupt him and ask him to come to the point at once; he must come to it his own way. 'Old Mac can tell a hawk from a handsaw with half an eye,' he continued, 'and he has two good ones at his command. Old Mac says to himself, seeing a certain talented young friend whom he esteems--your health, my son. Ah, I forgot, my glass is empty'--(I was obliged to fill it again; I had no fear of Mac's getting tipsy on three glasses; he was too well seasoned)--'Old Mac says to himself, what does this talented young friend of his mean by coming so often to Turk West's establishment? Well, there would be nothing in that, but he comes in unseasonable hours--that is to say, in the hours during which he is supposed to be working for the public. What does that mean? says old Mac, in confidence to himself. Your health, my son. It can mean but one thing. Old Mac knows the signs. And that's why he winked at you to follow him. _Do_ you follow me?' 'Not exactly,' I was obliged to confess, notwithstanding that I had a dim glimmering of what was coming. Old Mac laughed. 'Well, not to beat about the bush--but I thought I'd lead up to it by easy stages--a certain fair friend of ours is at a certain place this morning, and I fancied you might like to see her.' My heart beat violently; I knew that he referred to Jessie. 'Did she tell you to come for me?' He dashed my hopes to the ground by hurriedly replying, 'No, no, my son; she knows nothing of it, and had best not know, perhaps. The fact is, our fair friend is about to make her first appearance on the boards, and she is now rehearsing her part. I know the box-keeper, and he will let us into the dress circle, where you can see her without her seeing you.' I thanked him cordially, and we walked together to the theatre, and were admitted to the dress circle, which was in complete darkness. Certainly no one on the stage could distinguish us, but in the dim light I could see all the actors and actresses engaged in the rehearsal. Jessie was among them.