It was customary with Mr. Tumbler, Jr., in those halcyon days, to drop (or rather, as he expressed it, 'happen') in the coffee-houses, at about eleven o'clock, every day, that being the hour when the lunch was set out for customers. At such times, Mr. Tumbler was frequently known to make some very odd mistakes, such, for example, as drinking the liquor of some other individual, who might have been so negligent as to put his glass down for a moment, while he helped himself to a mouthful of the eatables. But these little errors are incident to an absent-minded man, and might have been passed over unnoticed, had not Mr. Tumbler, on a later occasion, been discovered in the act of abstracting a handkerchief from the coat-pocket of a gentleman who was standing at the bar; for which offence he was very unceremoniously ejected from the premises, with an invitation from the keeper to call, in future, 'once in a great while.' Mr. Tumbler was, happily for his circumstances, not a particular man. He dwelt any where and every where, and might justly be termed a 'promiscuous' lodger. He had, it is true, a particular stall in the market-house, which he sometimes occupied at night; but Mr. Tumbler had serious objections to sleeping there. 'The flies' he said, 'made it inconwenient in the morning, and the benches was werry often left dirty, by the negligence of the butchers:' beside, he was 'roused out, o' market mornings, at early day-light, vich was uncommon uncomfortable!' He was a constant attendant upon horse-races, and the like gatherings. He usually repaired thither with a small capital of two or three dollars, and a 'sweat-cloth,' 'merely,' as he said, 'to occupy his mind, and turn an honest penny or two.' He was, moreover, an accomplished thimble-player, and would bet 'twenty-five, fifty, or seventy-five cents, that no gentlemen could tell where the ball was!' At a certain cock-fight, Mr. Tumbler was exceedingly vociferous in his encouragement of a certain white bantam, engaged in the combat. 'Go it my darling!' exclaimed he, looking exultingly upon his favorite. 'That's the way to tell it, my bully! Give it to him, my little whitey!' 'Hurra for dat red cock!' said a colored gentleman, looking sideways at Mr. Tumbler, in a species of defiance. 'Hurra for the white cock!' again ejaculated Mr. Tumbler. 'Hurra for de red cock!' responded his sable adversary. 'A dollar on the white cock!' exclaimed our hero. 'Done! I take dat bet!' answered the colored gentleman. The stakes were accordingly produced, and deposited in the hands of a gentleman of rather inelegant appearance, in a rough bell-crowned hat, who by-the-by was one of Mr. Tumbler's particular friends. 'Hurra for the white cock!' again shouted Mr. Tumbler. 'Hurra for de red cock!' again shouted the colored gentleman.