'O for a bowl of fat Canary,
Rich Palermo, sparkling Sherry,'

in order to drink to our better acquaintance."

"Thank you, sir,--thank you," cried the strange gypsy, seemingly
delighted with the spirit with which his young acquaintance appeared
to enter into his character, and his quotation from a class of authors
at that time much less known and appreciated than at present; "and if
you have seen already enough of the world to take up with ale when
neither Canary, Palermo, nor Sherry are forthcoming, I will promise,
at least, to pledge you in large draughts of that homely beverage.
What say you to passing a night with us? our tents are yet more at
hand than the public-house of which I spoke to you." The young man
hesitated a moment, then replied,--

"I will answer you frankly, my friend, even though I may find cause to
repent my confidence. I have a few guineas about me, which, though
not a large sum, are my all. Now, however ancient and honourable your
fraternity may be, they labour under a sad confusion, I fear, in their
ideas of meum and tuum."

"Faith, sir, I believe you are right; and were you some years older, I
think you would not have favoured me with the same disclosure you have
done now; but you may be quite easy on that score. If you were made
of gold, the rascals would not filch off the corner of your garment as
long as you were under my protection. Does this assurance satisfy
you?"

"Perfectly," said the youth; "and now how far are we from your