To this anecdote of the counsellor, succeeded many others, of which, as the whiskey was potent and the hour late, my memory is not over retentive: the party did not break up till near four o’clock; and even then, our seance only concluded, because some one gravely remarked “that as we should be all actively engaged on the morrow, early hours were advisable.” CHAPTER XX. THE ASSIZE TOWN. I had not been above a week in my new quarters, when my servant presented me, among my letters one morning, with a packet, which with considerable pains, I at length recognised to be directed to me. The entire envelope was covered with writing in various hands, among which I detected something which bore a faint resemblance to my name; but the address which followed was perfectly unreadable, not only to me, as it appeared, but also to the “experts” of the different post-offices, for it had been followed by sundry directions to try various places beginning with T, which seemed to be the letter commencing the “great unknown locality:” thus I read “try Tralee,” “try Tyrone,” “try Tanderagee,” &c. &c. I wonder that they didn’t add, “try Teheran,” and I suppose they would at last, rather than abandon the pursuit. “But, Stubber,” said I, as I conned over the various addresses on this incomprehensible cover, “are you sure this is for me?” “The postmaster, sir, desired me to ask you if you’d have it, for he has offered it to every one down in these parts lately; the waterguard officers will take it at 8d. Cir, if you won’t, but I begged you might have the refusal.” “Oh! very well; I am happy to find matters are managed so impartially in the post-office here. Nothing like a public cant for making matters find their true level. Tell the postmaster, then, I’ll keep the letter, and the rather, as it happens, by good luck, to be intended for me.” “And now for the interior,” said I, as I broke the seal and read: “Paris, Rue Castiglione.