I saw him two hours afterwards.
"Tom," said I, "about these emerald studs—I think I could get them back from the Fiscal."
"Keep them to yourself. I'm off to India."
"Bah!—go down to the Highlands for a month."
Tom did so; purveyed himself a kilt; met an heiress at the Inverness Meeting, and married her. He is now the happy father of half-a-dozen children, and a good many of us would give a trifle for his practice. But to this day he is as mad as a March hare if an allusion is made in his presence to any kind of studs whatsoever.
[MY COLLEGE FRIENDS.]
No. III.
MR W. WELLINGTON HURST.