Some member here dared to suggest that it was high time that the Higholdboy should do something else than criticise the contributions of his fellow-members. Mr. Spout desired it to be understood that he should admit of no dictation from inferiors; that he should exercise his own discretion in deciding whether he would contribute to the amusement of others, or criticise them in their efforts to be jolly. Yet, without giving up any of this right, he would volunteer to lay before the club, on the present occasion, a matter which, to him, possessed some points of interest, and as he didn't care whether it interested the others or not, he should state facts for his own amusement. He intended to laugh at everything which he thought was funny, without any reference to the comfort of others. "The circumstance which I am about to relate," said Mr. Spout, "is one in which a friend of mine was involved. My friend's name," he continued, "is Bartholomew Buxton. He is the owner of a book-store, and was led into that business on account of a thirst for reading. He is a man of about thirty-five years, and his whole life has been passed in poring over books. I regard him as a man of very rare intelligence, though his intellect is not, perhaps, very fruitful of original thoughts. What is remarkable with him is his personal appearance. He is a little man, just large enough to be entitled to enter the army--that is to say, 'five-foot-four.' His body is very small, and his head very large, round, and full. His hair is of a sandy color, and of the scratch wig order of cut. His eyes are small, and one of them squints frightfully. His complexion is quite pale. In the matter of dress, he wears usually a pair of pants of a checker-board-pattern-on-a-large-scale cloth, blue dress-coat, ornamented with large fancy brass buttons, and a vest--a double-breaster--of the brightest scarlet. But these eccentricities in apparel would hardly attract attention so long as the main feature of his dress is visible. That feature is his collar. It is a remarkable collar--a mighty rampart of linen, which encircles his head in a line with the centres of his ears, almost meeting in his face. Numerous reasons have been assigned for Mr. Buxton's going to such lengths (or rather heights) in his indulgence in collar. One idea advanced is, that he is actuated by a desire to economize in the expenses of washing, and to do this, has the garments made in such a way as to be convertible into collars at either end. Another suggestion is, that the collar is a matter of utility, designed by Mr. Buxton to economize physical strength, which, inasmuch as his head is very large and his body very small, must be overtaxed to hold his ponderous brain-box erect.