bad pun, and such
enormities were frequent, the offender was sentenced to undergo some
ludicrous punishment; and the utmost good-humor and hilarity always
prevailed.

I will now relate a rather amusing adventure in which I participated
with others of the "Uncles and Nephews."

One night we were assembled, as usual, at our head-quarters. The Fourth
of July was to "come off" the next day, and we determined to have some
fun. Accordingly, a couple of stout messengers were despatched to the
theatre, armed with the necessary authority and keys, and they soon
returned laden with dresses from the wardrobe. These garments the party
proceeded to assume; and we were quickly transformed into as
picturesque-looking a crowd as any that ever figured at a masquerade
ball. As for myself, I made a very tolerable representation of Falstaff;
while Richard, Othello, Macbeth, Hamlet, Shylock, and other gentlemen of
Shakespeare's creation, gave variety to the procession. Then there was a
clown in full circus costume, accompanied by Harlequin in his glittering
shape-dress. We sadly longed for a sprightly Columbine; but then we
consoled ourselves with Pantaloon, admirably rendered by P. Jones.

Our "music" consisted of a bass-drum, which was tortured by the clown; a
fish-horn beautifully played upon by Sam Palmer; a dinner-bell whose din
was extracted by Jack Adams. Having formed the procession on the
side-walk, the music struck up, and we marched.

Our first halting-place was at the saloon of Peter Brigham, at the head
of Hanover street. Here we filed in, and great excitement did our
extraordinary appearance create. A mob soon collected before the door,
attracted by our grotesque costumes as well as by the infernal noise of
our "musical" instruments, upon which we continued to perform with
undiminished vigor. Peter Brigham was in agonies, and rushed about the
saloon like an insane fly in a tar barrel. The frightened waiters
abandoned their posts and fled. The mob outside cheered vociferously;
and Harlequin began to belabor poor Pantaloon with his gilded lath to
the immense amusement of the spectators.

Peter Brigham at length mounted a chair, and said--

"Gentlemen, will you hear me? (Hoarse growl from the bass-drum.) I
cannot suffer this noise and racket to go on in my house. (Blast of
defiance from the fish-horn.) You know I have always tried to keep a
decent and respectable place. (Peal of sarcastic laughter from the
dinner bell.) I