“How wretched those who tasteless live,
And say this world no joys can give:
Why tempts yon turtle sprawling,
Why smoaks the glorious haunch,
Are these not joys still calling
To bless our mortal paunch?
O 'tis merry in the Hall
When beards wag all,
What a noise and what a din;
How they glitter round the chin;
Give me fowl and give me fish,
Now for some of that nice dish;
Cut me this, Sir, cut me that,
Send me crust, and send me fat.
Some for tit bits pulling hauling,
Legs, wings, breast, head,--some for liquor, scolding, bawling,
Hock, port, white, red, here 'tis cramming, cutting, slashing,
There the grease and gravy splashing,
Look, Sir, look, Sir, what you've done,
Zounds, you've cut off the Alderman's thumb.”
The Hon. Tom Dashall, who was fully aware that City appointments for
twelve o'clock mean one, was nevertheless anxious to arrive at their
place of destination some time before the commencement of the business
of the day; and fortunately meeting with no obstruction on the road,
they were set down at the corner of King-street, about half-past twelve.
“Come,” said he, “we shall now have time to look about us at leisure,
and observe the beauties of this place of civic festivity. The Hall you
see in front of you, is the place devoted to the entertainment usually
given by the Lord Mayor on his entrance upon the duties and dignities of
his office. It is a fine gothic building, in which the various courts
of the city are held. The citizens also meet there for the purpose of
choosing their representatives in Parliament, the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs,
&c. It was originally built in the year 1411, previous to which period
the public, or as they term it the Common Hall, was held at a small room
in Aldermanbury.
~~210~~~ The expense Of the building was defrayed by voluntary
subscription, and its erection occupied twenty years. It was seriously
damaged by the fire of 1666, since which the present edifice, with the
exception of the new gothic front, has been erected. That, however,
was not finished till the year 1789, and many internal improvements and
decorations have been introduced since. There is not much of attraction
in its outward appearance. That new building on the right has recently
been erected for the accommodation of Meetings of Bankrupts; and on the
left is the Justice-Room, where the Aldermen attend daily in rotation as
magistrates to decide petty causes; but we must not exhaust our time now
upon them.”
On entering the Hall, Tallyho appeared to be highly pleased with its
extent, and was presently attracted by the monuments which it contains.
“It is a noble room,” said he.--“Yes,” replied Tom, “this Hall is
153 feet in length, 48 in breadth, and the height to the roof is 55.”
Tallyho was, however, more engaged in examining the monument erected to
the memory of Lord Nelson, and an occasional glance at the two enormous
figures who stand at opposites, on the left of the entrance.--Having
read the tablet, and admired the workmanship of the former, he hastily
turned to the latter. “And who in the name of wonder are these?” he
inquired.
“These,” replied his communicative Cousin, “are called _Gog_ and
_Magog_. They are two ancient giants carved in wood, one holding a
long staff suspending a ball stuck with pikes, and the other a halbert,
supposed to be of great antiquity, and to represent an ancient Briton
and a Saxon. They formerly used to stand on each side of that staircase
which leads to the Chamberlain's Office, the Courts of King's Bench and
Common Pleas, the Court of Aldermen, and the Common Council Chamber. At
the other end are two fine monuments, to the memory of Lord Chatham, the
father of Mr. Pitt, and his Son. The windows are fine specimens of
the revived art of painting on glass. There is also a monument of Mr.
Beckford.”
While they were taking a view of these several objects of curiosity,
their attention was suddenly attracted by a confused noise and bustle
at the door, which announced the arrival of the Lord Mayor and his
attendants, who passed them in state, and were followed by our friends
to the Council Chamber; on entering which, they were ~~211~~~ directed
by the City Marshall, who guarded the door, to keep below the bar.
Tallyho gazed with admiration and delight on the numerous pictures with
which the Chamber is decorated, as well as the ceiling, which forms, a
dome, with a skylight in the centre. The Lord Mayor having first entered
the Court of Aldermen, the business of the day had not yet commenced.
Tom directed his Cousin's eye in the first instance to the very large
and celebrated painting by Copley, which fronts the Lord Mayor's
chair, and represents the destruction of the floating batteries before
Gibraltar, to commemorate the gallant defence of that place by General
Elliott, afterwards Lord Heath field, in 1782. The statue of the late
King George the Third; the death of David Rizzio, by Opie; the miseries
of Civil War, from Shakespeare; Domestic Happiness, exemplified in
portraits of an Alderman and his family; the death of Wat Tyler; the
representation of the Procession of the Lord Mayor to Westminster Hall,
by water; and the ceremony of swearing in the Lord Mayor at Guildhall,
in 1781; containing portraits of all the principal members of the
Corporation of London at that time. Meanwhile the benches were filling
with the Deputies and Common Councilmen from their several wards. At one
o'clock, the Lord Mayor entered the Court, attended by several Aldermen,
who took their seats around him, and the business of the day commenced.
Among those on the upper seats, Tom gave his Cousin to understand which
were the most popular of the Aldermen, and named in succession Messrs.
Waithman, Wood, Sir Claudius Stephen Hunter, Birch, Flower, and Curtis;
and as their object was not so much to hear the debates as to see the
form and know the characters, he proposed an adjournment from their
present rather uncomfortable situation, where they were obliged to stand
wedged in, by the crowd continually increasing, during which they could
take a few more observations, and he could give some little clue to the
origin and present situations of the persons to whom he had directed his
Cousin's attention. Making the best of their way out of the Court, they
found themselves in an anti-room, surrounded by marshalmen, beadles of
Wards waiting for their Aldermen, and the Lord Mayor's and Sheriffs'
footmen, finding almost as much difficulty to proceed, as they had
before encountered.
~~212~~~ Having struggled through this formidable phalanx of judicial
and state appendages,
“Now,” said Dashall, “we shall be enabled to breathe again at liberty,
and make our observations without fear; for where we have just quitted,
there is scarcely any possibility of making a remark without having it
snapped up by newspaper reporters, and retailers of anecdotes; here,
however, we can indulge _ad libitum_.”
“Yes,” replied Tallyho, “and having seen thus far, I am a little
inquisitive to know more. I have, it is true, at times seen the names
of the parties you pointed out to me in the daily prints, but a sight of
their persons in their official stations excites stronger curiosity.”
“Then,” said Tom, “according to promise I will give you a sort of
brief sketch of some of them. The present Lord Mayor is a very eminent
wholesale stationer, carrying on an extensive trade in Queen-street;
he ought to have filled the chair before this, but some temporary
circumstances relative to his mercantile concerns induced him to give up
his rotation. He has since removed the obstacle, and has been elected
by his fellow-citizens to the high and important office of Chief
Magistrate. I believe he has not signalized himself by any remarkable
circumstance, but he has the character of being a worthy man. Perhaps
there are few in the Court of Aldermen who have obtained more deservedly
the esteem of the Livery of London, than Alderman Waithman, whose
exertions have long been directed to the correction of abuses, and who
represented them as one of their members during the last Parliament,
when he displaced the mighty Alderman Curtis. Waithman is of humble
origin, and has, like many others of Civic notoriety, worked his way
by perseverance and integrity as a linen-draper, to respectable
independence, and the hearts of his fellow-citizens: he has served the
office of Sheriff, and during that time acted with a becoming spirit at
the death of the late Queen, by risking his own life to save others. His
political sentiments are on the opposition side, consequently he is no
favorite with ministers.”
“And if he were,” replied Tallyho, “that would scarcely be considered an
honour.”
“True,” continued Tom, “but then it might lead to profit, as it has done
with many others, though he appears to hold such very light.
~~213~~~ “Alderman Wood has not yet been so fortunate as the celebrated
Whittington, whom you may recollect was thrice Lord Mayor of London; but
he has had the honour to serve that office during two succeeding years:
he is a member of Parliament, and his exertions in behalf of the late
Queen, if they have done him no great deal of good among the higher
powers, are at least honourable to his heart.
“Of Sir Claudius Stephen Hunter there is but little to be said,
except that he has served the office, and been a Colonel of the City
Militia--led off the ball at a Jew's wedding--used to ride a white
charger--and is so passionately fond of military parade, that had
he continued another year in the office, the age of chivalry would
certainly have been revived in the East, and knights-errant and esquires
have completely superseded merchants, traders, and shopkeepers.
“Alderman Birch is an excellent pastry-cook, and that perhaps is the
best thing that can be said of him: he has written some dramatic pieces;
but the pastry is beyond all comparison best of the two, and he needs no
other passport to fame, at least with his fellow-citizens.
“But last, though not least, under our present consideration, comes the
renowned Sir William, a plain bluff John Bull; he is said to be the
son of a presbyterian citizen, and was rigidly educated in his father's
religion. He obtained the alderman's gown, and represented the City in
the year 1790: he is a good natured, and, I believe, a good hearted man
enough, though he has long been a subject for satirical wit. He was Lord
Mayor in 1796: you may recollect what was related of him by the literary
labourer we met with in the Park--anecdotes and caricatures have been
published in abundance upon him: he may, however, be considered in
various points of view--as an alderman and a biscuit baker--as a
fisherman “--
“How!” cried Tallyho!
“Why, as a fisherman, he is the Polyphemus of his time.
“His rod was made out of the strongest oak,
His line a cable which no storm e'er broke,
His hook was baited with a dragon's tail,
He sat upon a rock and bobb'd for a whale.”
“Besides which,” continued Dashall, “he is a great sailor; has a yacht
of his own, and generally accompanies
~~214~~~ Royalty on aquatic excursions. I remember a laughable
caricature, exhibiting the alderman in his own vessel, with a turtle
suspended on a pole, with the following lines, in imitation of
Black-eyed Susan, said to be written by Mr. Jekyll:--
“All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When Castlereagh appeared on board,
'Ah where shall I my Curtis find.
Tell me ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
Does my fat William sail among your crew.'”
He is a banker, a loan-monger, and a contractor, a member of Parliament,
and an orator; added to which, he may be said to be a man of wit
and humour--at all events he is the cause of it in others. His first
occupations have procured him great wealth, and his wit and humour great
fame.
“The worthy Alderman's hospitality to the late good humoured and
gossiping James Boswell, the humble follower and biographer of Dr.
Johnson, is well known; and it is probable that the pleasures of the
table, in which no man more joyously engaged, shortened his life. To
write the life of a great man is no easy task, and to write that of a
big one may be no less arduous. Whether the Alderman really expected to
be held up to future fame by the Biographer of Johnson, cannot be
very easily ascertained; however that wish and expectation, if it ever
existed, was completely frustrated by the death of poor Boswell.
“I recollect to have seen some lines of the worthy Alderman, on the
glorious victory of the Nile, which shew at once his patriotism, his
wit, and his resolution, in that he is not to be laughed out of the
memorable toast he once gave--
“Great Nelson, in the grandest stile,
Bore down upon the shores of Nile,
And there obtained a famous victory,
Which puzzled much the French Directory.
The impudence of them there fellows,
As all the newspapers do tell us,
Had put the grand Turk in a pet,
Which caus'd him send to Nelson an aigrette;
Likewise a grand pelisse, a noble boon--
Then let us hope--a speedy peace and soon.”{1}
1 Whether the following lines are from the same hand or not,
we are unable to ascertain; at least they wear a great
similarity of character:
I give you the three glorious C's.
Our Church, Constitution, and King;
Then fill up three bumpers to three noble Vs.
Wine, Women, and Whale fish-ing.
~~215~~~ “Egad,” said Bob, “if this be true, he appears to knock up
rhymes almost as well as he could bake biscuits” (smothering a laugh.)
“Why,” replied Dashall, “I believe that it has not been positively
ascertained that these lines, which unlike other poetry, contain no
fiction, but plain and undeniable matter of fact, were wholly indicated
by the worthy Alderman; indeed it is not impossible but that his
worship's barber might have had a hand in their composition. It would
be hard indeed, if in his operations upon the Alderman's pericranium,
he should not have absorbed some of the effluvia of the wit and genius
contained therein; and in justice to this operator on his chin and
caput, I ought to give you a specimen which was produced by him upon the
election of his Lordship to the Mayoralty--
“Our present Mayor is William Curtis,
A man of weight and that your sort is.”
“This epigrammatic distich, which cannot be said to be destitute of
point, upon being read at table, received, as it deserved, a large share
of commendation; and his Lordship declared to the company present, that
it had not taken his barber above three hours to produce it extempore.”
Tallyho laughed heartily at these satirical touches upon the poor
Alderman.
“However,” continued Tom, “a man with plenty of money can bear laughing
at, and sometimes laughs at himself, though I suspect he will hardly
laugh or produce a laugh in others, by what he stated in his seat in
the House of Commons, on the subject of the riots{1} at Knightsbridge.
I suspect his wit and good humour will hardly protect him in that
instance.”
1 On a motion made by Mr. Favell in the Court of Common
Council, on the 21st of March, the following resolution was
passed, indicative of the opinion that Court entertained of
the conduct of Alderman Curtis on the occasion here alluded
to:
“That Sir William Curtis, Bart, having acknowledged in his
place in this Court, that a certain speech now read was
delivered by him in the House of Commons, in which, among
other matters which he stated respecting the late riot at
Knightsbridge, he said, 'That he had been anxious that a
Committee should investigate this question, because he
wished to let the world know the real character of this
Great Common Council, who were always meddling with matters
which they had nothing to do with, and which were far above
their wisdom and energy. It was from such principles they
had engaged in the recent inquiry, which he would contend
they had no right to enter upon. Not only was evidence
selected, but questions were put to draw such answers as the
party putting them desired.'
“That the conduct of Sir William Curtis, one of the repre-
sentatives of this City in Parliament, lias justly merited
the censure and indignation of this Court and of his fellow
Citizens.”
~~216~~~ After taking a cursory look into the Chamberlain's Office, the
Court of King's Bench and Common Pleas, they took their departure from
Guildhall, very well satisfied with their morning's excursion.
It was between three and four o'clock when our friends left the Hall.
Tom Dashalt, being upon the qui vive, determined to give his Cousin a
chevy for the remainder of the day; and for this purpose, it being on
a Friday, he proposed a stroll among the Prad-sellers in Smithfield,
where, after partaking of a steak and a bottle at Dolly's, they
accordingly repaired.
“You will recollect,” said Tom, “that you passed through Smithfield
(which is our principal cattle market) during the time of Bartholomew
Fair; but you will now find it in a situation so different, that you
would scarcely know it for the same place: you will now see it full
of horse-jockeys, publicans, pugilists, and lads upon the lark like
ourselves, who having no real business either in the purchase or sale of
the commodities of the market, are watching the manners and manouvres of
those who have.”
As Tom was imparting this piece of information to his attentive Cousin,
they were entering Smithfield by the way of Giltspur-street, and were
met by a man having much the appearance of a drover, who by the dodging
movements of his stick directly before their eyes, inspired our friends
so strongly with the idea of some animal being behind them which they
could not see, and from which danger was to be apprehended, that they
suddenly broke from each other, and fled forward for safety, at which
a roar of laughter ensued from the byestanders, who ~~217~~~ perceiving
the hoax, recommended the dandies to take care they did not dirty their
boots, or get near the hoofs of the _prancing prads_, Tom was not much
disconcerted at this effort of practical jocularity, though his Cousin
seemed to have but little relish for it.
“Come along,” said Tom, catching him by the arm, and impelling him
forward, “although this is not Bartholomew Fair time, you must consider
all fair at the horse-fair, unless you are willing to put up with a
horse-laugh.”
Struggling through crowds who appeared to be buying, selling, or
bargaining for the lame, the broken winded, and spavined prads of
various sizes, prices, and pretensions,
“There is little difference,” said Tom, “between this place as a market
for horses, and any similar mart in the kingdom,
Here the friend and the brother
Meet to humbug each other,
except that perhaps a little more refinement on the arts of gulling
may be found; and it is no very uncommon thing for a stolen nag to
be offered for sale in this market almost before the knowledge of his
absence is ascertained by the legal owner.--I have already given you
some information on the general character of horse-dealers during our
visit to Tattersal's; but every species of trick and low chicanery is
practised, of which numerous instances might be produced; and though I
admit good horses are sometimes to be purchased here, it requires a
man to be perfectly upon his guard as to who he deals with, and how he
deals, although the regulations of the market are, generally speaking,
good.”
“I wouldn't have him at no price,” said a costermonger, who it appeared
was bargaining for a donkey; “the h------y sulkey b------ von't budge,
he's not vorth a fig out of a horses------.”
“I knows better as that 'are,” cried a chimney-sweeper; “for no better
an't no vare to be had; he's long backed and strong legged. Here, Bill,
you get upon him, and give him rump steaks, and he'll run like the devil
a'ter a parson.”
Here Bill, a little blear-eyed chimney-sweeper, mounted the poor animal,
and belaboured him most unmercifully, without producing any other effect
than kicking up behind, and most effectually placing poor Bill in the
~~218~~~ mud, to the great discomfiture of the donkey seller, and the
mirth of the spectators. The animal brayed, the byestanders laughed, and
the bargain, like poor Bill, was off.
After a complete turn round Smithfield, hearing occasionally the
chaffing of its visitants, and once or twice being nearly run over,
they took their departure from this scene of bustle, bargaining, and
confusion, taking their way down King-street, up Holborn Hill, and along
Great Queen-street.
“Now,” said Tom, “we will have a look in at Covent Garden Theatre; the
Exile is produced there with great splendour. The piece is certainly got
up in a style of the utmost magnificence, and maintains its ground in
the theatre rather upon that score than its really interesting dialogue,
though some of the scenes are well worked up, and have powerful claims
upon approbation. The original has been altered, abridged, and (by some
termed) amended, in order to introduce a gorgeous coronation, a popular
species of entertainment lately.”
Upon entering the theatre, Tallyho was almost riveted in attention
to the performance, and the latter scene closed upon him with all its
splendid pageantry before he discovered that his Cousin had given him
the slip, and a dashing cyprian of the first order was seated at his
elbow, with whom entering into a conversation, the minutes were not
measured till Dashall's return, who perceiving he was engaged, appeared
inclined to retire, and leave the cooing couple to their apparently
agreeable tete-a-tete. Bob, however, observing him, immediately wished
his fair incognita good night, and joined his Cousin.
“D------d dull,” said Tom,--“all weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable.”
“But very grand,” rejoined Bob.
“I have found nothing to look at,” replied Tom; “I have hunted every
part of the House, and only seen two persons I know.”
“And I,” said Tallyho, “have been all the while looking at the piece.”
“Which piece do you mean, the one beside you, or the one before you?”
“The performance--The Coronation.”
“I have had so much of that,” said Tom, “that finding you so close in
attention to the stage, that I could get no ~~219~~~ opportunity of
speaking to you, I have been hunting for other game, and have almost
wearied myself in the pursuit without success; so that I am for quitting
the premises, and making a call at a once celebrated place near at hand,
which used to be called the Finish. Come along, therefore, unless you
have 'mettle more attractive;' perhaps you have some engagements?”
“None upon earth to supersede the one I have with you,” was the reply.
Upon which they left the House, and soon found themselves in Covent
Garden Market. “This,” said Tom, “has been the spot of many larks and
sprees of almost all descriptions, ana election wit has been as cheap
in the market as any of the vegetables of the venders; but I am going
to take you to a small house that has in former times been the resort of
the greatest wits of the age. Sheridan, Fox, and others of their time,
have not disdained to be its inmates, nor is it now deserted by the
votaries of genius, though considerably altered, and conducted in
a different manner: it still, however, affords much amusement and
accommodation. It was formerly well known by the appellation of the
_Finish_, and was not opened till a late hour in the night, and, as at
the present moment, is generally shut up between 11 and 12 o'clock,
and re-opened for the accommodation of the market people at 4 in the
morning. The most respectable persons resident in the neighbourhood
assemble to refresh themselves after the labours of the day with a glass
of ale, spirits, or wine, as they draw no porter. The landlord is a
pleasant fellow enough, and there is a pretty neat dressing young lass
in the bar, whom I believe to be his sister--this is the house.”
“House,” said Bob, “why this is a deviation from the customary buildings
of London; it appears to have no up stairs rooms.”
“Never mind that,” continued Dashall, “there is room enough for us, I
dare say; and after your visit to the Woolpack, I suppose you can stand
smoke, if you can't stand fire.”
By this time they had entered the Carpenter's Arms, when turning short
round the bar, they found themselves in a small room, pretty well filled
with company, enjoying their glasses, and puffing their pipes: in the
right hand corner sat an undertaker, who having just obtained a victory
over his opposite neighbour, was humming a stave ~~220~~~ to himself
indicative of his satisfaction at the result of the contest, which it
afterwards appeared was for two mighty's;{1} while his opponent was
shrugging up his shoulders with a feeling of a very different kind.
“It's of no use,” said Jemmy,{2} as they called him, “for you to enter
the lists along with me, for you know very well I must have you at
last.”
“And no doubt it will prove a good fit,” said an elderly shoemaker
of respectable appearance, who seemed to command the reverence of the
company, “for all of us are subject to the _pinch_.”
“There's no certainty of his assertion, however,” replied the
unsuccessful opponent of Jemmy.
“Surely not,”{3} said another most emphatically, taking a pinch of
snuff, and offering it to the shoemaker; “for you know Jemmy may come to
the finch before John.”
1 “Mighty.”--This high sounding title has recently been
given to a full glass of ale,--the usual quantity of what is
termed a glass being half a pint, generally supplied in a
large glass which would hold more--and which when filled is
consequently subjected to an additional charge.
2 To those who are in the habit of frequenting the house,
this gentleman will immediately be known, as he usually
smokes his pipe there of an afternoon and evening.
“With his friend and his pipe puffing sorrow away, And with
honest old stingo still soaking his clay.”
With a certain demonstration before him of the mortality of
human life, he deposits the bodies of his friends and
neighbours in the earth, and buries the recollection of them
in a cloud, determined, it should seem, to verify the words
of the song, that
“The right end of life is to live and be jolly.”
His countenance and manners seldom fail to excite
risibility, not-withstanding the solemnity of his calling,
and there can be little doubt but he is the finisher of
many, after the Finish; he is, however, generally good
humoured, communicative, and facetious, and seldom refuses
to see any person in company for a mighty, usually
concluding the result with a mirthful ditty, or a doleful
countenance, according to the situation in which he is left
as a winner or a loser; and in either case accompanied with
a brightness of visage, or a dull dismal countenance,
indicative of the event, which sets description at defiance,
and can only be judged of by being seen.
3 “Surely not,” are words in such constant use by one
gentleman who is frequently to be met in this room, that the
character alluded to can scarcely be mistaken: he is partial
to a pinch of snuff, but seldom carries a box of his own. He
is a resident in the neighbour-hood, up to snuff, and
probably, like other men, sometimes snuffy; this, however,
without disparagement to his general character, which is
that of a respectable tradesman. He is fond of a lark, a
bit of gig, and an argument; has a partiality for good
living, a man of feeling, and a dealer in felt, who wishes
every one to wear the cap that fits him.
~~221~~~ “Never mind,” continued Jemmy, “I take my chance in this life,
and sing _toll de roll loll_.”
By this time our friends, being supplied with mighties, joined in the
laugh which was going round at the witty sallies of the speakers.
“It is possible I may go first,” said the undertaker, resuming his pipe;
“and if I should, I can't help it.”
“Surely not,--but I tell you what, Jemmy, if you are not afraid, I'll
see you for two more mighties before I go, and I summons you to shew
cause.”
“D------n your summons,”{1} cried the former unsuccessful opponent of
the risible undertaker, who at the word summons burst into a hearty
laugh, in which he was immediately joined by all but the last speaker.
“The summons is a sore place,” said Jemmy.
“Surely not. I did not speak to him, I spoke to you, Sir; and I have a
right to express myself as I please: if that gentleman has an antipathy
to a summons, am I to be tongue-tied? Although he may sport with
sovereigns, he must be accountable to plebeians; and if I summons you to
shew cause, I see no reason why he should interrupt our conversation.”
1 “D-----n your summons.” This, as one of the company
afterwards remarked, was a sore place, and uttered at a
moment when the irritation was strong on the affected part.
The speaker is a well known extensive dealer in the pottery,
Staffordshire, and glass line, who a short time since in a
playful humour caught a sovereign, tossed up by another
frequenter of the room, and passed it to a third. The
original possessor sought restitution from the person who
took the sovereign from his hand, but was referred to the
actual possessor, but refused to make the application. The
return of the money was formally demanded of the man of
porcelain, pitchers, and pipkins, without avail. In this
state of things the loser obtained a summons against the
taker, and the result, as might be expected, was compulsion
to restore the lost sovereign to the loving subject,
together with the payment of the customary expenses, a
circumstance which had the effect of causing great anger in
the mind of the dealer in brittle wares. Whether he broke
any of the valuable articles in his warehouse in consequence
has not been ascertained, but it appears for a time to have
broken a friendship between the parties concerned: such
breaches, however, are perhaps easier healed than broken or
cracked crockery.
~~222~~~ “Surely not,” was reverberated round the room, accompanied with
a general laugh against the interrupter, who seizing the paper, appeared
to read without noticing what was passing.
The company was now interrupted by the entrance of several strangers,
and our two friends departed on their return homeward for the evening.