gazine. It commenced--

'"Can I view thee panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing;
Can I unmoved see thee dying
On a log
Expiring frog!"'

'Beautiful!' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Fine,' said Mr. Leo Hunter; 'so simple.'

'Very,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'The next verse is still more touching. Shall I repeat it?'

'If you please,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'It runs thus,' said the grave man, still more gravely.

'"Say, have fiends in shape of boys,
With wild halloo, and brutal noise,
Hunted thee from marshy joys,
With a dog,
Expiring frog!"'

'Finely expressed,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'All point, Sir,' said Mr.
Leo Hunter; 'but you shall hear Mrs. Leo Hunter repeat it. She can do
justice to it, Sir. She will repeat it, in character, Sir, to-morrow
morning.'

'In character!'

'As Minerva. But I forgot--it's a fancy-dress DEJEUNE.'

'Dear me,' said Mr. Pickwick, glancing at his own figure--'I can't
possibly--'

'Can't, sir; can't!' exclaimed Mr. Leo Hunter. 'Solomon Lucas, the Jew
in the High Street, has thousands of fancy-dresses. Consider, Sir, how
many appropriate characters are open for your selection. Plato, Zeno,
Epicurus, Pythagoras--all founders of clubs.'

'I know that,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'but as I cannot put myself in
competition with those great men, I cannot presume to wear their
dresses.'

The grave man considered deeply, for a few seconds, and then said--

'On reflection, Sir, I don't know whether it would not afford Mrs. Leo
Hunter greater pleasure, if her guests saw a gentleman of your celebrity
in his own costume, rather than in an assumed one. I may venture to
promise an exception in your case, sir--yes, I am quite certain that, on
behalf of Mrs. Leo Hunter, I may venture to do so.'

'In that case,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'I shall have great pleasure in
coming.'

'But I waste your time, Sir,' said the grave man, as if suddenly
recollecting himself. 'I know its value, sir. I will not detain you. I
may tell Mrs. Leo Hunter, then, that she may confidently expect you and
your distinguished friends? Good-morning, Sir, I am proud to have beheld
so eminent a personage--not a step sir; not a word.' And without giving
Mr. Pickwick time to offer remonstrance or denial, Mr. Leo Hunter
stalked gravely away.

Mr. Pickwick took up his hat, and repaired to the Peacock, but Mr.
Winkle had conveyed the intelligence of the fancy-ball there, before
him.