"Jorrocks!" at length said I, taking him by the hand, "how are you, my old boy?" He started at the sound of his name. "Jorrocks," said he, "who's that?" "Why, the Yorkshireman; you surely have not forgotten your old friend and companion in a hundred fights!" _Jorrocks._ Oh, Mr. York, it's you, is it? Much obliged by your inquiries, but I'm drowned. _Yorkshireman._ Aye, but you are coming round, you'll be better before long. _Jorrocks._ Never! Don't try to gammon me. You know as well as I do that I'm drowned, and a drowned man never recovers. No, no, it's all up with me, I feel. Set down, however, while I say a few words to you. You're a good fellow, and I've remembered you in my will, which you'll find in the strong port-wine-bin, along with nine pounds secret service money. I hopes you'll think the legacy a fat one. I meant it as such. If you marry Belinda, I have left you a third of my fourth in the tea trade. Always said you were cut out for a grocer. Let Tat sell my stud. An excellent man, Tat--proudish perhaps--at least, he never inwites me to none of his dinners--but still a werry good man. Let him sell them, I say, and mind give Snapdragon a charge or two of shot before he goes to the 'ammer, to prevent his roaring. Put up a plain monument to my memory--black or white marble, whichever's cheapest--but mind, no Cupids or seraphums, or none of those sort of things--quite plain--with just this upon it--_Hic jacet Jorrocks._ And now I'll give you a bit of news. Neptune has appointed me huntsman to his pack of haddocks. Have two dolphins for my own riding, and a young lobster to look after them. Lord Farebrother whips in to me--he rides a turtle. "And now, my good friend," said he, grasping my hands with redoubled energy, "do you think you could accomplish me a rump-steak and oyster sauce?--also a pot of stout?--but, mind, blow the froth off the top, for it's bad for the kidneys!" THE END