“You are very good, father,” says master; “but really, I neither drink nor smoke.” “Right, my boy: quite right. Talk about a good conscience in this life--a good STOMACK is everythink. No bad nights, no headachs--eh? Quite cool and collected for your law studies in the morning?--eh?” And the old nobleman here grinned, in a manner which would have done creddit to Mr. Grimoldi. Master sate pale and wincing, as I've seen a pore soldier under the cat. He didn't anser a word. His exlent pa went on, warming as he continued to speak, and drinking a fresh glas at evry full stop. “How you must improve, with such talents and such principles! Why, Algernon, all London talks of your industry and perseverance: you're not merely a philosopher, man; hang it! you've got the philosopher's stone. Fine rooms, fine horses, champagne, and all for 200 a year!” “I presume, sir,” says my master, “that you mean the two hundred a year which YOU pay me?” “The very sum, my boy; the very sum!” cries my lord, laffin as if he would die. “Why, that's the wonder! I never pay the two hundred a year, and you keep all this state up upon nothing. Give me your secret, O you young Trismegistus! Tell your old father how such wonders can be worked, and I will--yes, then, upon my word, I will--pay you your two hundred a year!” “Enfin, my lord,” says Mr. Deuceace, starting up, and losing all patience, “will you have the goodness to tell me what this visit means? You leave me to starve, for all you care; and you grow mighty facetious because I earn my bread. You find me in prosperity, and--” “Precisely, my boy; precisely. Keep your temper, and pass that bottle. I find you in prosperity; and a young gentleman of your genius and acquirements asks me why I seek your society? Oh, Algernon! Algernon! this is not worthy of such a profound philosopher. WHY do I seek you? Why, because you ARE in prosperity, O my son! else, why the devil should I bother my self about you? Did I, your poor mother, or your family, ever get from you a single affectionate feeling? Did we, or any other of your friends or intimates, ever know you to be guilty of a single honest or generous action? Did we ever pretend any love for you, or you for us? Algernon Deuceace, you don't want a father to tell you that you are a swindler and a spendthrift! I have paid thousands for the debts of yourself and your brothers; and, if you pay nobody else, I am determined you shall repay me. You would not do it by fair means, when I wrote to you and asked you for a loan of money. I knew you would not. Had I written again to warn you of my coming, you would have given me the slip; and so I came, uninvited, to FORCE you to repay me. THAT'S why I am here, Mr. Algernon; and so help yourself and pass the bottle.”