The second instalment of a budget of breezy little narratives--exciting, humorous, and curious--hailing from all parts of the world. This month we publish a humorous Canadian episode and a terrible affair which occurred on an American train. A BLUFF THAT WORKED. BY J. K. STRACHAN, J.P., OF BRITISH COLUMBIA. This amusing little story was told to me by Mr. John Wood, in the Tecumseh Hotel at Winnipeg. He happened to see there the character I have called “Slippery Dick,” whom he had known in 1881 or 1882 at a small village near London, Ontario, where he then lived, and the sight of the man recalled the facts to his mind. As most of the parties concerned are still living, I have thought it advisable to alter the names. * * * * * Dick Small was his name, but we called him “Small Dick,” or “Slippery Dick,” on account of his small and mean ways. Well, one night Sam Smart and I and several other boys were in Steve Brown’s bar, “talking horse,” when old Dick came meandering in, and, of course, chipped in with some of his usual boasting. “I’ve got the best little mare in the settlement,” he told us, “and don’t you forget it. I’m game to back that little bit of horseflesh for fifty dollars for a mile, twice round the half-mile track, against anything you can produce in these parts. Who’s got anything to say? I’ll run her now, to-morrow, or any time.” “You ain’t produced the collateral,” put in Sam, quietly. With that old Dick thrust his hand into his back pocket and drew out quite a wad. Counting out five ten-dollar bills, he put them on the counter. “Now, Steve, you’re stakeholder,” he said. “Who’s going to cover ’em? It’s put up or shut up.” Sam got up, and, putting a fifty-dollar bill on top of Dick’s, replied, “I’ll jest take that bet. Hold the stakes, Steve.” “All right,” said Steve, and pushed the money into his safe. The boys all looked at Sam, puzzled like, and old Slippery was wondering what it all meant. “Didn’t know you had a horse, Sam,” he remarked. “You don’t know everything, Dick,” returned Sam, “but I ain’t surprised, for I only brought him home to-day. Well, let’s settle the time for the match. To-morrow morning at eight o’clock will suit me. I don’t want a crowd to know too much of my horse’s points, so we’ll do it on the quiet.” The old man agreed to this, and Sam went on: “And now, as I’ve got to see some business, I’ll say good-bye, boys. Say, Steve, a word with you before I go.” Steve and Sam went into the back room, and in about five minutes Sam came out and walked off. The boys and Slippery hung around, and you could see the old miser was uneasy about his fifty dollars. So he began a-trying to pump Steve. “Say, Steve,” said he, “what kind of a horse has Sam got?” “Don’t know; ain’t seen him,” replied Steve. “You don’t know anything about him, I suppose?” inquired Dick.