"So, fellow, I am expected by you to swallow this 'tale of a tub,' which has been invented or revived solely for the purposes of monetary extortion!" exclaimed Downie Trevelyan, with the most intense and crushing hauteur, as he lay back in the same luxurious easy chair in which his uncle died, and played with his rich gold eye-glass and watered silk riband. "It ain't a tale of a tub, my lord; but of the wreck of a _steamer_--the steamer _Admiral_ of Montreal," replied Sharkley, meekly and sententiously.…
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