than to speer wha gave it the name of cockie-leekie."

"More properly pronounced, _coq a lecher_," said the inexorable Dean.
"The dish is a French one."

"Did ever any one hear the like?" exclaimed Sir Andrew, utterly
confounded by the assertion.

"I confess, Sir Andrew," said Linton, "it's rather hard on Scotland.
They say you stole all your ballad-music from Italy, and now they claim
your cookery for France!"

"The record," said the Attorney-General, across the table, "was tried at
Trim. Your Lordships sat with the Chief Baron."

"I remember perfectly; we agreed that the King's Bench ruled right,
and that the minor's claim was substantiated." Then turning to Mrs.
Kennyfeck, who out of politeness had affected to take interest in what
she could not even understand a syllable of, he entered into a very
learned dissertation on "heritable property," and the great difficulties
that lay in the way of defining its limits.

Meanwhile "pipeclay," as is not unsuitably styled mess-table talk,
passed among the military, with the usual quizzing about regimental
oddities. Brownrigg's cob, Hanshaw's whiskers, Talbot's buggy, and
Carey's inimitable recipe for punch, the Dean throwing in his negatives
here and there, to show that nothing was "too hot or too heavy" for his
intellectual fingers.

"Bad law! Mr. Chief Justice," said he, in an authoritative tone. "Doves
in a cot, and coneys in a warren, go to the heir. With respect to
deer--"

"Oh dear, how tiresome!" whispered Mrs. White to Cashel, who most
heartily assented to the exclamation.

"What's the name o' that beastie, young gentleman?" said Sir Andrew, who
overheard Cashel recounting some circumstances of Mexican life.

"The chiguire,--the wild hog of the Caraccas," said Cashel. "They are
a harmless sort of animal, and lead somewhat an unhappy life of it; for
when they escape the crocodile in the river, they are certain to fall
into the jaws of the jaguar on land."

"Pretty much like a member o' the Scotch Kirk in Ireland," said Sir
Andrew, "wi' Episcopaalians on the tae haun, and Papishes on the tither.
Are thae creatures gude to eat, sir?"

"The flesh is excellent," broke in the Dean. "They are the
_Cavia-Capybara_ of Linnaeus, and far superior to our European swine."

"I only know," said Cashel, abruptly, "that _we_ never eat them, except
when nothing else was to be had. They are rancid and fishy."

"A mere prejudice, sir," responded the Dean. "If you taste