I have been repeatedly questioned about how I spent the time between lunch and three o'clock, but I have two good reasons for evading a direct answer; one is, that I do not care to say, the other, that I cannot, like some people, tell a lie without provocation. Young Evans, at the Inquiry and Subscription wicket, knew that I told him as I went out at noon that if a smooth-shaven countrified-looking old man asked for Uncle Benny he was to be shown up to my room to await my return. Old Jamieson, the elevator man, knew that I entered by the side door about three o'clock, and that I was quite astonished to hear that a visible Uncle Benny had appeared and disappeared during my absence, and that he had been followed into my room by a smooth-shaven rural-looking old codger; that after an interval of loud conversation that could be heard above the rumbling of the presses in the basement, the latter emerged hastily, clattered down the stairs with something in one hand that looked like a human scalp, closely pursued by Uncle Benny, who was excitedly pulling his stovepipe hat down over his ears as he ran, and stopping as he descended the stairs to replace the huge prunella shoes that kept dropping off. But it was Meldrum, the cartoonist, whose room was opposite mine, who told me most about this strange occurrence. "I thought there was a fire at first," he said, in relating the affair. "I got into the hall and saw the most remarkable looking old party sitting at your desk. Hairy as a gorilla--couldn't see a feature except his nose--smoked goggles--white hair to his shoulders--white beard down to his belt--long-skirted frock coat--pants turned up at the bottom, showing his spindle-shanks half way----" "_Spindle_-shanks!" "Yes--regular pipe-stems--and prunella shoes, by Jove!--the kind he wore in the ark--voice like a polar bear, and deaf as a door-post. Other chap got completely winded trying to make him hear." "What was _he_ like?" "Small, smooth-shaven, pink cheeks, blue eyes. Looked like Shem--voice away up in G." "Could you hear what they said?" Meldrum laughed derisively. "Hear?" he repeated. "_Hear!_ Great Scott! If the presses hadn't been running some idiot on the street would have pulled the fire-alarm, sure. When I saw them first Noah had his hand up to his ear and Shem was yelling into it: 'Will--yum Wed--der!' "'I see,' growls Noah, 'William was your grandson, and he got married. Go ahead.' "'No, no--' shouts Shem, 'that's my _name_. WILL......YUM WED......DER!' "'You'll have to raise your voice,' says Noah, 'I'm a little hard of hearing.'