“‘Let me go,’ shouted the other; ’let me go, I say.  I will smash him to atoms.  Upon my honor and reputation, he shall not escape me this way—­I’ll send him home a hoop—­a triangle—­a zoologist.  I’ll beat him into mustard, the cowardly scoundrel!  And only you were a magistrate, father, I would have done it before you.  Let me go, I say—­the M’Clutchy blood is up in me!  Father, you’re a scoundrel if you hold me!  You know what a lion I am—­what a raging lion, when roused.  Hands off, M’Clutchy, I say, when you know I’m a thunderbolt.’

“The tugging and pulling that took place here between the father and son were extraordinary, and I could not in common decency decline assisting the latter to hold him in.  I consequently lent him my aid seriously; but this only made things worse:—­the more he was held, the more violent and outrageous he became.  He foamed at the mouth—­stormed—­swore—­and tore about with such vehemence, that I really began to think the fellow was a dull flint, which produced, fire slowly, but that there was fire in him.  The struggle still proceeded, and we pulled and dragged each other through every part of the house:—­chairs, and tables, and office-stools were all overturned—­and Phil’s cry was still for war.

“It’s all to no purpose,’ he shouted—­’I’ll not leave an unbroken bone in that scoundrel Hartley’s body.’

“‘I know you wouldn’t, if you got at him,’ said Val.  ’He would certainly be the death of him,’ he added aside tome; ’he would give him some fatal blow, and that’s what I’m afraid of.’

“Phil was now perfectly furious—­in fact he resembled a drunken man, and might have passed for such.

“‘Hartley, you scoundrel, where are you, till I make mummy of you?’ he shouted.

“‘Here I am,’ replied Hartley, entering’ the room, walking up to him, and looking him sternly in the face—­’here I am—­what’s your will with me?’

“So comic a paralysis was, perhaps, never witnessed.  Phil stood motionless, helpless, speechless.  The white cowardly froth rose to his lips, his color became ashy, his jaw fell, he shook, shrunk into himself, and gasped for breath—­his eyes became hollow, his squint deepened, and such was his utter prostration of strength, that his very tongue lolled out with weakness, like that of a newly dropped calf, when attempting to stand for the first time.  At length he got out—­

“’Hold!  I believe, I’ll restrain myself; but only my father’s a
magistrate------’

“‘Your father’s a scoundrel, and you are another,’ said Hartley; ’and here’s my respect for you.’

“Whilst speaking, he caught Phil by the nose with one hand, and also by the collar of his coat with the other, and in this position led him, in a most comical way, round the room, after which he turned him about, and inflicted a few vigorous kicks upon a part of him which must be nameless.

“‘I am not sorry,’ said he, ’that I forgot my note-case in the other room, as it has given me an opportunity of taming a raging lion so easily.’