THE EDITOR'S STORY. 143 



town Eagle,' and I thought I could scarce do 

 better than have a chat with the shopkeeper 

 touching its local circulation and influence. 



" Have I an Aigle, is it ? Be gor I have, 

 bad luck to them for Aigles" 



" I thought it was considered a very good 

 paper." 



" Ye don't know what they call it in Cark, 

 thin?" replied the fellow, with that sort of in- 

 describable grin which comes over an Irish- 

 man's face when he is enjoying the foretaste of 

 a joke; " they calls the Aigle the Goose, and 

 in my opinion they're right." 



Notwithstanding my very limited associa- 

 tion up to that period with the journal in 

 question, I confess it was with no slight feel- 

 ing of annoyance that I walked to breakfast 

 after this account of it. While at the repast, 

 I remembered that the first thing I had to do 

 was to see the gentleman whom I was to suc- 

 ceed, and who I had stipulated was to remain 

 in office at least a fortnight after my arrival. 



" James, take in my cawrd," I heard a deep 

 voice growl from the hall outside the coffee- 

 room ; and the waiter appeared, and handed 



