"Surely!" said Mr. Homer, with a meek bow; "surely; and indeed, Pindar, the ceremonies were of the simplest description, in accordance with the wishes of our revered and deceased relative. But sit down, my dear brother; sit down, and let me procure some refreshment;--a--sustenance;--a--bodily pabulum, for you. Have you come far, may I ask?" "From the metropolis, sir; from New York!" replied Mr. Pindar, seating himself and throwing back his little batlike cloak. "By rail to the Junction; the evening stage, a jolt, a rattle, and a crawl,--behold me! A crust, Homer, a crust! no disturbance of domestic equilibrium. A consort lurks within?" "I beg your pardon, Brother!" said Mr. Homer, with a bewildered look. "A wife, sir, a wife!" said Mr. Pindar. "Are you married, Homer?" "Oh, no; no, indeed, my dear brother!" said Mr. Homer, hastily, and blushing very red. "Nothing of the kind, I assure you. And you?" "Perish the thought!" said Mr. Pindar; and he waved the Sex out of existence. Mr. Homer looked troubled, but hastened out of the room, and, after some ineffective appeals to Tommy, who, as we know, was talking with Annie Lizzie at the gate, foraged for himself, and returned with crackers and cheese, doughnuts and cider. Seated together at this simple feast, the two brothers looked at each other once more, and both rubbed their hands with precisely the same gesture. "Food!" cried Mr. Pindar, vivaciously; "and drink! necessities, base if you will, but grateful, sir, grateful! Brother, I pledge you!" "Brother, I drink to you!" cried Mr. Homer, filling his glass with a trembling hand. "To our reunion, sir! the--the rekindling of--of affection's torch, my dear brother. Long may it--" "Blaze!" cried Mr. Pindar, with a sudden skip in his chair. "Snap! crackle! flame! crepitate! Pindar to Homer shall, bright glass to glass--enough!" He ceased suddenly, and fell upon the crackers and cheese with excellent appetite. Mr. Homer watched him in anxious and bewildered silence: once or twice he opened his lips as if about to speak, but closed them each time with a sigh and a shake of the head. The visitor was the first to speak, beginning, when the last cracker had disappeared, as suddenly as he had left off. "Brother," he said, "why am I here?" Mr. Homer repeated the words vaguely: "Why are you here, my dear brother? I doubt not that affection's call, the--voice of sympathy, of--a--brotherhood, of--consanguinity,--a--sounded in your ears--" "Trumpets!" Mr. Pindar struck a sonorous note, and nodded thrice with great solemnity. "Alarums and excursions; enter long-lost brother, centre. You are right, Homer; but this was not all. The Dramatic Moment, sir, had struck." With these words, he folded his arms, and, dropping his head on his breast, gazed up through his eyebrows in a manner which Mr. Homer found highly disconcerting. "Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Homer, with vague politeness.