But neither
of the three bachelors had yet sustained that pecuniary tax which Wesley
Tiffles always levied upon his friends, just before leaving them
forever. They formed a part of his reserve corps, which had latterly
been sadly thinned out in Mr. Tiffles's desperate contest with
the world.
Mr. Tiffles shook hands with Marcus Wilkeson, giving him the grip of
some unknown Order, slapped Overtop on the back, and playfully pulled
the whiskers of Maltboy. Then he filled a pipe, threw himself into a
chair, adjusted his legs in the true form of a compass, and opened his
coat ostentatiously. All this in about ten seconds, and with a geniality
that defied reproof. He was the very embodiment of cheer.
"Prepare to be astonished," said Mr. Tiffles, after his third whiff. "I
have a splendid idea." The three bachelors smiled, and nodded an
intimation that they were prepared,
"I have had some impracticable notions in my time; but this _is_ good,
and you'll say so. You know that dog, Mark, two doors below--the large
yellow one, with cropped ears, and a tail like the handle of a
shaving brush?"
Mr.
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