“Show him up,” said the proprietor at once.  He had hardly time to look into his mirror, and make sure that his hair and his toilet were all right, before a dapper little fellow, with a professional manner, and a portfolio under his arm, was ushered into the room.  The air of easy good-nature and good fellowship was one which Mr. Belcher could assume at will, and this was the air that he had determined upon as a matter of policy in dealing with a representative of “The Tattler” office.  He expected to meet a man with a guilty look, and a deprecating, fawning smile.  He was, therefore, very much surprised to find in Mr. Tibbets a young gentleman without the slightest embarrassment in his bearing, or the remotest consciousness that he was in the presence of a man who might possibly have cause of serious complaint against “The Tattler.”  In brief, Mr. Tibbets seemed to be a man who was in the habit of dealing with rascals, and liked them.  Would Mr. Tibbets have a cup of coffee sent up to him?  Mr. Tibbets had breakfasted, and, therefore, declined the courtesy.  Would Mr. Tibbets have a cigar?  Mr. Tibbets would, and, on the assurance that they were nicer than he would be apt to find elsewhere, Mr. Tibbets consented to put a handful of cigars into his pocket.  Mr. Tibbets then drew up to the table, whittled his pencil, straightened out his paper, and proceeded to business, looking much, as he faced the proprietor, like a Sunday-school teacher on a rainy day, with the one pupil before him who had braved the storm because he had his lesson at his tongue’s end.

As the substance of the questions and answers appeared in the next morning’s “Tattler,” hereafter to be quoted, it is not necessary to recite them here.  At the close of the interview, which was very friendly and familiar, Mr. Belcher rose, and with the remark:  “You fellows must have a pretty rough time of it,” handed the reporter a twenty-dollar bank-note, which that gentleman pocketed without a scruple, and without any remarkable effusiveness of gratitude.  Then Mr. Belcher wanted him to see the house, and so walked over it with him.  Mr. Tibbets was delighted.  Mr. Tibbets congratulated him.  Mr. Tibbets went so far as to say that he did not believe there was another such mansion in New York.  Mr. Tibbets did not remark that he had been kicked out of several of them, only less magnificent, because circumstances did not call for the statement.  Then Mr. Tibbets went away, and walked off hurriedly down the street to write out his report.

The next morning Mr. Belcher was up early in order to get his “Tattler” as soon as it was dropped at his door.  He soon found, on opening the reeking sheet, the column which held the precious document of Mr. Tibbets, and read: 

“The Riot at Sevenoaks!!! 
“An interesting Interview with Col.  Belcher! 
“The original account grossly Exaggerated! 
“The whole matter an outburst of Personal Envy! 
“The Palgrave Mansion in a fume! 
“Tar, feathers and fagots! 
“A Tempest in a Tea-pot! 
“Petroleum in a blaze, and a thousand fingers burnt!!! 
“Stand out from under!!!”