"I'm the kew-rator, havin' been Hymen's servant in the old days, and shows around the visitors, besides dustin' the mementoes--locks of his bloomin' 'air and the rest of the trash, I looked in to see how you was a-gettin' on after the palaver.

If I'm not wanted I'll go." "Don't go." "Very well, then, I won't." Mr.Tamblyn took a seat on the edge of an unoccupied bed, drew from his pocket a knife and a screw of pig-tail tobacco, sliced off a portion and rubbed it meditatively between his hands.

"I done you a good turn just now," he continued.

"Some o' the company--the womenkind especially--wanted to come in and make a fuss over you before leavin'." "Why should they want to make a fuss over me ?" "Well you may ask," said Mr.Tamblyn, candidly.

"'Tain't a question of looks, though.