settled without exchanging a word, the doctor buttoned his coat tightly, grasped his cane firmly, and sternly began his return homeward. His way led the length of Main Street, and seldom was any one bold enough to accost him then. Once, at such a time, Mr. Mumbie crossed his path (it was shortly after the delivery of the doctor's lecture on Eccentricity), and ventured to greet him with a smile and extended hand: "Good-day, doctor." "Sir to you," replied the doctor, halting in a military attitude. "Fine afternoon, doctor." "Very fine indeed, sir. Ha! very fine." "Doctor, you'd hardly believe it, but to-day is my birthday," said Mr. Mumbie, assuming a triumphant air as if he were imparting a surprising piece of news. "I see no reason to doubt it," replied the doctor, curtly. "Yes, sir, that is so," rejoined Mr. Mumbie with decision; "I'm a much older man, let me tell you, than you take me for." Dr. Wattletop looked as if he were prepared to take Mr. Mumbie for any age whatever, for that gentleman presented what might be styled an anachronistic appearance. He was a large man, offering at first view a protuberant expanse of waistcoat, supported by somewhat unstable legs. His head was an oblong one, covered with a curly glossy brown wig, that contrasted singularly with thick gray eyebrows, and dyed whiskers on flabby cheeks flanked by two large ears. "Yes, sir," repeated Mr. Mumbie, "I'm a much older man than you take me for. You know Mrs. Mumbie is much my junior, and that I never made up my mind to marry until late in life--that accounts for it." "Accounts for what?" inquired the doctor, beginning to be bored. "Accounts for the--the discrepancy I spoke of. Now, here's a knife," and Mr. Mumbie drew from his pocket a jack-knife, the bone-handle of which was yellow with age, "here's a knife that I have carried about with me since I was a boy. It was given to me as a birthday present. Just notice the date I scratched on the handle--Nov. 16th, 1814. Just think of that. I've carried it for going on fifty years--yes, sir, fifty years. I doubt if there's many men, or in fact any man, can say as much; and what changes have taken place since then! But I'm a man of strong local attachments. I had an umbrella, doctor, when I was first married that I had used steadily for twenty-six years--think of that! I suppose I would have had it yet, but Mrs. Mumbie, unfortunately, was prejudiced against that umbrella, and one day it disappeared. I never saw it again." This was said solemnly, and Mr. Mumbie looked as if he were about to pay the tribute of a tear to the manes of the departed umbrella. The doctor's patience becoming weary, he was about to turn on his heel to leave, when Mr. Mumbie resumed: