He stated, substantially, that the whole difficulty grew out of a love affair. He had become deeply infatuated with an unknown and beautiful blonde. He had often met her in the street, in theatres, and concert-rooms, and his intense admiration ripened into a deep love. He was unable to learn who she was until a fortnight previously, when he found a friend who was well acquainted with her, and who undertook to bring about an introduction. Things wore a brighter aspect then. The sun was more brilliant; the moon shed a less melancholy light; lager bier tasted better; oysters appeared fatter; peanuts seemed always roasted just enough, and, in fact, he felt quite satisfied with life, and the world generally, and resolved to postpone indefinitely a purpose he had entertained of buying three cents' worth of arsenic. But a day or two before the scene in the Police Court in which he figured, he found himself in a stage, and directly opposite was the identical object of his admiration and affection. He hitched from one side on his seat to the other; put one leg on the other, and then reversed them; looked out of the window, and then at her; scratched his ears; pulled up his collar; brushed the dust from his pantaloons; put his hands in his pockets; pulled them out, and did many ridiculous things which he would not have done had she not been present. She stopped the stage on one of the avenues, and handed him a five-franc piece to pay the driver. The driver, as usual, gave change in small pieces. He counted it to see that it was all right; found it to be so, and informed her of the fact. The streets being very muddy, he resolved to do the genteel in the way of assisting her out of the vehicle; made his exit; put one foot six inches into a mud-hole, and the other on the edge of the curb-stone; lifted the lady to the sidewalk in safety, at the expense of bursting off two suspender-buttons, and his vest-buckle, a slip down causing his nose to fall against the tire, his knees into the mud, his shoulder against the stage-steps, and caving in his hat. But all this didn't trouble him in the least, as he expected to be more than remunerated by an approving smile on the part of the lady. He turned his face towards her, and found her engaged in counting the change, which he had pronounced to be all right, as if she suspected that he would be guilty of cheating her out of a stray sixpence, and thus hazard his chances for salvation. The effect of the disappointment, on him, was frightful. He felt a sickening sensation; stopped at the nearest whisky-shop, and imbibed; went to another, and took a nip; proceeded to a third, and smiled; reached a fourth, and took a horn; entered a fifth, and drank, and so on, _ad libitum_. At last he reached Niblo's; saw a flaming poster announcing that Louisa Pyne was to sing in the "Crown Diamonds;" bought a ticket; took several drinks and a seat. His ears had become unusually critical.