the utmost difficulty that Mr. Grant. could keep the tell-tale blood from rushing to his face. "He showed me the ring," continued Mr. Harrison. "It is a very handsome one." "Was he satisfied with it?" asked Mr. Grant. "Not fully." "Why so?" "He was afraid it might not be solid. In fact, so anxious was he on this point, that he took the ring to your neighbour, over the way, to get his opinion about it." As Mr. Harrison said this, Grant was conscious that a betrayal of the truth was on his countenance. "And, of course, Martin said the ring was not solid." "No, he did not exactly say that. I went with the gentleman, at his request. Martin weighed the ring, and, after doing so, simply stated that gold of the quality of which the ring was made was worth a certain price per pennyweight. By multiplying the number of pennyweights contained in the ring with the price mentioned, he showed that you either lost one dollar on the ring, or filled the centre with some baser metal." "Well?" The blood had, by this time, risen to the very brow of the jeweller. "'Cut the ring,' said my friend. It was done, and, to my mortification and astonishment, it proved to be even as he had said. The ring was not solid!" For some moments, Mr. Grant hung his head in painful confusion. Then, looking up, he said-- "It was his own fault." "How so?" was inquired. "He would not pay the price for a solid ring, and I could not give him my work for nothing." "Did you ask him a fair price?" "Yes; and he answered, that my neighbour over the way had offered to make him a solid ring, for just one dollar less. I knew exactly what kind of a ring Martin could and would furnish for that money, and