Now, consider the folly of Tag-rag. Here was he in all this terrible pucker about advancing _five pounds_ on the strength of prospects and chances which he had deemed safe for adventuring _his daughter_ upon--her, the only object on earth, except money, that he regarded with anything like sincere affection. How was this? The splendor of the future possible good fortune of his daughter, might, perhaps, have dazzled and confused his perceptions. Then, again, _that_ was a _remote_ contingent venture; but this sudden appeal to his pocket--the demand of an immediate outlay and venture--was an instant pressure, and he felt it severely. Immediate profit was everything to Tag-rag--'twas his very life's blood! He was, in truth, a _tradesman to his heart's core_. If he could have seen the immediate _quid pro quo_, or could, at all events, have got, if only by way of earnest, as it were, a bit of poor Titmouse's heart, and locked it up in his desk, he would not have cared so much; it would have been a little in his line;--but here was a FIVE-POUND NOTE going out forthwith, and nothing immediate, visible, palpable, replacing it. Oh! Titmouse had unconsciously pulled Tag-rag's very heart-strings! Observe, discriminating reader, that there is all the difference in the world between a TRADESMAN and a MERCHANT; and, moreover, that it is not every _tradesman_ that is a Tag-rag. All these considerations combined to keep Tag-rag in a perfect fever of doubt and anxiety, which several hearty curses (I regret to say) failed in effectually relieving. By the time, however, that Titmouse had made his appearance at Mr. Tag-rag's shop, with a sufficiently sheepish air, and was beginning to run the gantlet of grinning contempt from the "_gents_" on each side of the shop, Tag-rag had determined on the course he should pursue in the very embarrassing matter above referred to. To the inexpressible amazement of all present, he bolted out of a little counting-house or side-room, hastened to meet Titmouse with outstretched hand and cordial speech, drew him into his little room, and shut the door. There Tag-rag informed his flurried young friend that he had made arrangements (with a little inconvenience, which, however, between friends, signified nothing) for lending Titmouse five pounds. "And, as life's uncertain, my dear Mr. Titmouse," said Tag-rag, as Titmouse, with ill-disguised ecstasy, put the five-pound note into his pocket--"even between the dearest friends--eh? Understand? It's not _you_ I fear, nor you me, because we've confidence in each other. But if anything should happen, those we leave behind us"---- Here he took out of his desk an "I. O. U. £5," ready drawn up and dated--"a mere slip--a word or two--is satisfaction to both of us."