To find you “hail fellows, well met,” in your hail,
In one tune with your rain, and your wind and your thunder,
“’Fore God,” they would cry, “they are both in a tale!”
Consider the hint.
RATHER OUT IN THE WEATHER.
THE DISCOVERY.
“IT’S a nasty evening,” said Mr. Dornton, the stockbroker, as he settled himself in the last inside place of the last Fulham coach, driven by our old friend Mat—an especial friend in need, be it remembered, to the fair sex.