"Why, that must be about the time of the Great Storm," rejoined Jackson.
"Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him."
"I should like to hear all particulars of the affair," said Jackson, "if it wouldn't be troubling you too much."
Mr. Wood required little pressing. He took a sip of punch and commenced his relation. Though meant to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed to excite the risible propensities rather than the commiseration of his auditor; and when Mr. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment.
"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!"
"Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes."
"To be sure! Nothing entertains me so much. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!"
"I dare say they did. But I found it no laughing matter, I can assure you. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever."
"Quite natural! Never forgive an injury!—I never do!—ha! ha!"
"Really, Mr. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Your laugh reminds me of—of——"