He sat in an awful state of mind, trying to do his problems in vain, and talking to himself. At dinner he ate nothing. At tea time he was worse, for he was seasick, and had to be carried out. And when study hour came, there he was with his problems again. The young ones had gone to bed. Mr. Ginger, also. The professor presided at the study table, and Mrs. Stuffemwell sat by the fire, crocheting. All was very still, when, suddenly, there came three knocks on the door. The professor never stirred. They came again. “Shall I open the door, sir?” said Brown. “For what?” asked the professor. “A knock, sir,” said Brown. “I heard none; but see,” said the professor. Brown opened the door. There was no one there. He took his seat again. Before he had lifted his book, the door was pushed open, and in walked some one. The professor took no notice; neither did Mrs. Stuffemwell. But Brown, staring, as we all did, cried out: “Why, there’s Plug.” “Where?” asked the professor. “There,” said I. “There,” said we all, pointing to the spot. “I see no one in the room but ourselves,” said the professor, “and I have private reasons to believe that Thomas, whom you impolitely call Plug, will not be here to-night. I shall not mention why I think so here.” “But I see him,” cried Decker. “There!” said Sprat. “There!” said I. “There!” said Brown. “How dare you say so, young gentlemen?” said Mrs. Stuffemwell. But we all saw Plug, white as a sheet, his black tongue sticking out of his mouth; and as he came toward us, and we saw a red stain on his breast, we knew it was his ghost; and Decker uttered an awful yell, and flung himself on his knees, and began to pray for mercy on his soul. And then the professor began to roar, and Mrs. Stuffemwell to shriek with laughter, and Plug, pulling something black out of his mouth, laughed, too. “I’ve had revenge enough, young gents,” said he. “I don’t want to kill nobody, nor to dissect ’em, neither; but I’d had tricks enough played on me, and I thought I’d see if I couldn’t play one, too. Asking professor’s leave, I heard your plans at the window; and as I’ve been with traveling play actors in my time, I knew what a bladder of blood could do, and jest how to manage the whole of it. And so I’ve had my turn for once, I hope, if you do think me a fool--as I ain’t, young gents, I promise you.” With which Plug bowed to the professor and Mrs. Stuffemwell, and toddled away, out of the room. We three were glad to get a caning next day, but Decker was too sick to bear one for a week; and I know, for he told me so, that he never attempted to play a joke on any one again. MOVING THE JURY. A Canadian barrister named McSweeny was a thorough student of human nature, and master of the art of observation. Nothing escaped his notice. While engaged upon a case, he watched the jury as a cat watches a mouse, and frequently astonished his clients by ending his arguments very abruptly and submitting the matter to the jury.