464 City Sketches. 



now. I thought it couldn't be true ; good bye/' and the lady went 

 on her way, leaving Cobb paralyzed on the curb-stone. 



"Thought it couldn't be true !" But it was true, fatally true ! 

 How had this tigress contrived to sheathe her talons for so long a pe- 

 riod, and so effectually ? And so he was about to be taken in once 

 more, once more to sell himself to a devil. Cobb thought at that 

 moment he would much rather have sold himself at once to the 

 definite article ; and he would not much have cared, if that personage 

 had flown away with him out of hand, and no more bother. 



He retraced his steps to his own home. As he entered the shop, 

 the little negro on one side of the door seemed veritably to be leering 

 maliciously at the little Highlander on the other ; and when he rqf- 

 tired to bed, the portrait of Mr. Hodgkinson, which had for some 

 years officiated as a chimney board, appeared to wear a quizzical 

 expression about the eyes whicli he had not heretofore remarked. 



Next morning, Mr. Cobb walked to his small desk in his small count 

 ing-house, and, taking a sheet of paper, wrote the following letter : Jf 

 " SIR, An unforeseen distressing circumstance compels me to 

 relinquish the hand of your amiable daughter. Be assured, I shall, 

 during my existence, entertain a lively sense of her excellent qualiw 

 ties. I will explain more hereafter. Meanwhile, believe me to 

 be, &c. 



** Mr. Thomas Griskin. DRINKWATER COBB." 



Having despatched this laconic epistle, Cobb sat himself down pre- 

 pared for the worst, that could befal on this side death or marriage : 

 he thought so at least, and the more he thought of the proceeding; 

 he had adopted, the more did he applaud himself for having resorted 

 to it. He was slightly startled, however, about an hour afterwards, 

 by the appearance of Chitterling, bearing in his hand a reply, which 

 ran as follows: 



" Mr. Drinkwater Cobb. 



" SIR, I thought as much, when you didn't come as you had 

 promised yesterday. You want to edge off; but it won't do. You 

 shan't play 'upon the girl's feelings in this here manner. I'll tell you 

 what I mean to do ; it's a thing I can't abear to do, but I must. I 

 shall put it into the hands of Rackem and Wrench, and if they don't 

 serve you out, my name 's not THOMAS GRISKIN." 



" Any answer, master ?" said Chitterling, when the other had 

 finished the letter. " I'll look in presently," said Cobb in a faint voice. 



" You must come soon then," replied Chitterling, " for Griskin's 

 going out : to the lawyer's I think he said," and the foreman hastened 

 from the premises. 



Here was a precious go ! Cobb said it advisedly ; it was a pre- 

 cious go. What ! to be plunged into a vortex of litigation to lose 

 his all, and to get nothing ! That must not be. But how to escape ? 

 Cobb sorted together his multitudinous thoughts, and at length se- 

 lected the following : Griskin was rich. He (Cobb) therefore had 

 a reversionary interest in Griskin. Griskin was more than sixty ; 

 was afflicted with an asthma ; had a short neck, and was no bad 

 subject for apoplexy. And then, Miss Griskin, was no chicken. 

 She was delicate very delicate all along "of her sitting so 



