"He is always well," said Randal, "I believe he is made of iron."
"His heart is of gold," said the Parson.
"Ah!" said Randal, inquisitively, "you told me you had come in contact with him once, respecting, I think, some of your old parishioners at Lansmere?"
The Parson nodded, and there was a moment's silence.
"Do you remember your battle by the Stocks, Mr. Leslie?" said Mr. Dale with a good-humored laugh.
"Indeed, yes. By the way, now you speak of it, I met my old opponent in London the first year I went up to it."
"You did! where?"
"At a literary scamp's—a cleverish man called Burley."
"Burley! I have seen some burlesque verses in Greek by a Mr. Burley."
"No doubt, the same person. He has disappeared—gone to the dogs, I dare say. Burlesque Greek is not a knowledge very much in power at present."