now, here's another sign. It says that, if the bill is good, it must have in one corner, mixed in with the vignette, the figure of a goose, very small, indeed, all but microscopic; and, for added precaution, like the figure of Napoleon outlined by the tree, not observable, even if magnified, unless the attention is directed to it. Now, pore over it as I will, I can't see this goose."
"Can't see the goose? why, I can; and a famous goose it is. There" (reaching over and pointing to a spot in the vignette).
"I don't see it—dear me—I don't see the goose. Is it a real goose?"
"A perfect goose; beautiful goose."
"Dear, dear, I don't see it."
"Then throw that Detector away, I say again; it only makes you purblind; don't you see what a wild-goose chase it has led you? The bill is good. Throw the Detector away."
"No; it ain't so satisfactory as I thought for, but I must examine this other bill."
"As you please, but I can't in conscience assist you any more; pray, then, excuse me."
So, while the old man with much painstakings resumed his work, the cosmopolitan, to allow him every facility, resumed his reading. At length, seeing that he had given up his undertaking as hopeless, and was at leisure again, the cosmopolitan addressed some gravely interesting remarks to him about the book before him, and, presently, becoming more and more grave, said, as he turned the large volume slowly over on the table,
