. . .We must now beg their attention to the continuation of the history of Archibald Mackenzie's bank-note.

Lady Catherine Mackenzie one day observed that the colours were changed in one spot on the right-hand pocket of her son's waistcoat. "My dear Archibald," said she, "what has happened to your smart waistcoat? What is that terrible spot?" "Really, ma'am, I don't know," said Archibald, with his usual soft voice and deceitful smile. Henry Campbell observed that it seemed as if the colours had been discharged by some acid. "Did you wear that waistcoat, Mr. Mackenzie," said he, "the night the large bottle of vitriolic acid was broken—the night that poor Forester's cat was killed: don't you remember?" "Oh, I did not at first recollect; I cannot possibly remember, indeed,—it is so long ago,—what waistcoat I wore on that particular night." The extreme embarrassment in Archibald's manner surprised Henry. "I really don't perceive your drift," continued Mackenzie: "what. . . Read More