For which general remarks on the affairs of the nation, Sheriff F. _put_ some corresponding replies, and so they proceeded along until they approached a well-known dining saloon, then under the supervision of a burly Englishman; and, as it was about the time people dined, and the Sheriff being a man that liked a fat dinner and a fine bottle, about as well as any body, when the Hon. Mr. Buck proposed-- "What say you, Sheriff, to a dinner and a bottle of old Sherry, at ----? We don't often meet (?), so let's sit down and have a quiet talk over things." "Well, Mr. Buck," says the Sheriff, "I would like to, just as soon as not, but I've got a disagreeable bit of business with you, and it would be hardly friendly to eat your dinner before apprizing you of the fact, sir." "Ah! Sheriff, what is it, pray?" says the somewhat alarmed Diddler; "nothing serious, of course?" "Oh, no, not serious, particularly; only a _writ_, Mr. Buck; a writ, that's all." "For my arrest?" "Your arrest, sir, on sight," says the Sheriff. "The deuce! What's the charge!" "Debt--false pretence--_swindling!_" "Ha! ha! that is a good one!" says the slight'y cornered Ex-M. C.; "well, hang it, Sheriff, don't let business spoil our digestion; come, let us dine, and then I'm ready for execution!" says the "Western member," with well affected gaiety. Stepping into a private room, they rang the bell, and a burly waiter appeared. "Now, Mr. F.," says the adroit Ex-M. C., "call for just what you like; I leave it to you, sir." "Roast ducks; what do you say, Buck?" "Good." "Oyster sauce and lobster salad?" "Good," again echoes the Ex-M. C. "And a--Well, waiter, you bring some of the best side dishes you have," says the Sheriff. "Yes, sir," says the waiter, disappearing to fill the order. "What are you going to drink, Sheriff?" asks the honorable gent. "Oh! ah, yes! Waiter, bring us a bottle of Sherry; you take Sherry, Buck?" "Yes, I'll go Sherry." The Sherry was brought, and partly discussed by the time the dinner was spread. "They keep the finest Port here you ever tasted," says the Diddler. "Do they!" he responds; "well, suppose we try it?" A bottle of old Port was brought, and the two worthies sat back and really enjoyed themselves in the saloon of the sumptuously kept restaurant; they then drank and smoked, until sated nature cried enough, and the Sheriff began to think of business. "Suppose we top off with a fine bottle of English ale, Sheriff!" "Well, be it so; and then, Buck, we'll have to proceed to the office." "Waiter, bring me a couple of bottles of your English ale," says the Hon. Mr. Buck. "Yes, sir." "And I'll see to the bill, Sheriff, while the waiter brings the ale," said the Ex-M. C., leaving the room "for a moment," to speak to the landlord. "Landlord," says the Diddler, "do you know that gentleman with whom I've dined in 15?" "No, I don't," says the landlord.