ake, get into
any trouble. My Juno understands no jesting on these occasions: and it
might so happen that she would leave a mark of her remembrance with you,
that you would not forget so long as you lived.'

'But I suppose, Sir, you won't expect that a dog can be allowed to sup
with her Highness's company!'

'Oh! faith, Sir, credit me--the dog is a more respectable member of
society than yourself, and many a one here present: so just leave me and
my Juno unmolested. Else I may, perhaps, take the trouble to make an
example of you.'

The princess, whose attention was now drawn, made a sign to the servant
to retire; and Von Pilsen and his friends could scarcely keep down their
laughter to a well-bred key, when Mr. Schnackenberger drew his pipe from
his pocket--loaded it--lit it at one of the chandeliers over the
supper-table--and, in one minute, wrapped the whole neighbourhood in a
voluminous cloud of smoke.

As some little damper to their merriment, however, Mr. Schnackenberger
addressed a few words to them from time to time:--'You laugh,
gentlemen,' said he; 'and, doubtless, there's something or other very
amusing,--no doubt, infinitely amusing, if one could but find it out.
However, I could make your appetites for laughing vanish--aye, vanish in
one moment. For, understand me now, one word--one little word from me to
Juno, and, in two minutes, the whole room shall be as empty as if it had
been swept out with a broom. Just the first that I look at, no matter
whom, she catches by the breast--aye, just you, Sir, or you, Sir, or
you, Mr. Von Pilsen,' (fixing his eye upon him) 'if I do but say--seize
him, Juno!' The word had fled: and in the twinkling of an eye, Juno's
fore-paws, not over clean, were fixed in the elegant white silk
waistcoat of Mr. Von Pilsen.

This scene was the signal for universal uproar and alarm. Even Mr.
Jeremiah, on remarking the general rising of the company, though totally
unaware that his harmless sport had occasioned it, rose also; called the
dog off: and comforted Von Pilsen, who was half dead with fright, by
assuring him that had he but said--'Bite him, Juno!'--matters would have
ended far worse.

On Mr. Schnackenberger's standing up, his bodily equilibrium was
manifestly so much endangered, that one of the company, out of mere
humanity, offered his servant to see him safe home. A slight
consciousness of his own condition induced our hero to accept of this
offer: through some misundersta