The day for the hearing at length arrived, and, armed with a mass of carefully selected information, I was in my seat ready to defend the originality of the Nore Napkin Ring, so to speak, to the death.  In my notes before me I had the skeleton of a really fine oration, which I felt (if I mastered my normal nervousness) would bristle with epigram, and thrill with heartfelt, brain-inspired eloquence.  So deeply interested was I in the matter, that I scarcely listened to my friend’s opening, and only became aware of what was happening in Court by the rising of the Judge.  Suddenly his Lordship bowed, and disappeared.  I looked at the clock—­it was only noon—­and, consequently, an hour and thirty minutes in advance of the time usually selected for the mid-day adjournment.  And then, to my dismay, I found that his Lordship was suffering from the influenza!  Well, there was nothing to do but to collect my papers, and, assisted by PORTINGTON, return to my chambers.  The next day my head ached violently, and I could not move.  Then I have a recollection of dictating to my wife long telegrams to PORTINGTON, which I subsequently discovered were neither despatched nor delivered.

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When I awoke, I found that the matter of Quicksilver v. Nore had been arranged and settled—­out of Court!

Pump-handle Court. (Signed) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.

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