ral delight, sings a comic song,
with a fal-de-ral--tol-de-ral chorus at the end of every verse, much
longer than the verse itself. It is received with unbounded applause,
and after some aspiring genius has volunteered a recitation, and failed
dismally therein, the little pompous man gives another knock, and says
'Gen'l'men, we will attempt a glee, if you please.' This announcement
calls forth tumultuous applause, and the more energetic spirits express
the unqualified approbation it affords them, by knocking one or two stout
glasses off their legs--a humorous device; but one which frequently
occasions some slight altercation when the form of paying the damage is
proposed to be gone through by the waiter.

Scenes like these are continued until three or four o'clock in the
morning; and even when they close, fresh ones open to the inquisitive
novice. But as a description of all of them, however slight, would
require a volume, the contents of which, however instructive, would be by
no means pleasing, we make our bow, and drop the curtain.

CHAPTER III--SHOPS AND THEIR TENANTS

What inexhaustible food for speculation, do the streets of London afford!
We never were able to agree with Sterne in pitying the man who could
travel from Dan to Beersheba, and say that all was barren; we have not
the slightest commiseration for the man who can take up his hat and
stick, and walk from Covent-garden to St. Paul's Churchyard, and back
into the bargain, without deriving some amusement--we had almost said
instruction--from his perambulation. And yet there are such beings: we
meet them every day. Large black stocks and light waistcoats, jet canes
and discontented countenances, are the characteristics of the race; other
people brush quickly by you, steadily plodding on to business, or
cheerfully running after pleasure. These men linger listlessly past,
looking as happy and animated as a policeman on duty. Nothing seems to
make an impression on their minds: nothing short of being knocked down by
a porter, or run over by a cab, will disturb their equanimity. You will
meet them on a fine day in any of the leading thoroughfares: peep through
the window of a west-end cigar shop in the evening, if you can manage to
get a glimpse between the blue curtains which intercept the vulgar gaze,
and you see them in their only enjoyment of existence. There they are
lounging about, on round tubs and pipe boxes, in all the dignity of
whisker