B. PERSIMMON, p.m.

This was cheering; and Tiffles only hoped that he would be able to secure so faithful an ally in every postmaster, for he had decided to do this preliminary work through that variety of public functionary, until the success of the panorama would justify hiring a special courier to go in advance and smooth the way for him,

All these preparations having been satisfactorily made; and the panorama, with the curtains, the lighting apparatus, and the other properties, having been forwarded in three enormous boxes to the scene of the impending conflict with public opinion, Tiffles made ready to follow.  And, on the eventful morning of the----- of April, 185-, he might have been seen at the Cortlandt-street ferry, accompanied by Patching, who had graciously consented to see how the “thing worked” on its first public trial.

Patching pulled his enormous hat still farther over his eyes, so that he might not be recognized.  This gave him an extremely questionable aspect; and the ticket taker at the ferry peered under the huge brim suspiciously as Patching came in.  He also attracted the attention of a detective in citizen’s clothes, and was a general object of interest to all the people congregated in the ferry house and waiting for the boat.

“This is fame,” muttered Patching, glancing at his scrutinizers from the shadow of the far-reaching hat.  “This is what people starve and die for.  It is a bore.”  He struck an attitude, as if unconsciously, folding his arms, and appearing to be in a profound revery.  Then, after another cautious glance about, he turned to Tiffles, by his side, and said: 

“It is useless.  I am recognized.  But remember your solemn promise.  I had no hand in the painting of it.”

“Not a little finger, my dear fellow,” cheerfully replied Tiffles, who had given the artist similar assurances of secrecy five times that morning.

At that moment a hand touched Tiffles familiarly on the shoulder.  He turned suddenly, for he was always expecting rear attacks from creditors.  He saw Marcus Wilkeson.

“Best of friends,” said Tiffles, with unfeigned joy, “I am glad to see you.  Of course you are going with us, though I hardly dared hope as much when I sent you the invitation.”

“To tell the truth, Tiffles, I had no intention of going, till this morning, when it suddenly occurred to me that a little trip in the country, and the fun of seeing your panorama and hearing you lecture, would drive away the blues.  I had a bad fit of them last night.”

Here Patching turned, and looked Marcus in the face, without seeming to recognize him.  It was his habit (not a singular one among the human species) to pretend not to remember people, and to wait for the first word.  Marcus indulged in the same habit to some extent, and, when he saw Patching looking at him without a nod or a word, he also was blank and speechless.