ss J'mima Ivins's friend, to dance,
without taking no more notice of Mr. Samuel Wilkins, and Miss J'mima
Ivins's friend's young man, than if they was nobody!

'What do you mean by that, scoundrel!' exclaimed Mr. Samuel Wilkins,
grasping the gilt-knobbed dress-cane firmly in his right hand. 'What's
the matter with _you_, you little humbug?' replied the whiskers. 'How
dare you insult me and my friend?' inquired the friend's young man. 'You
and your friend be hanged!' responded the waistcoat. 'Take that,'
exclaimed Mr. Samuel Wilkins. The ferrule of the gilt-knobbed dress-cane
was visible for an instant, and then the light of the variegated lamps
shone brightly upon it as it whirled into the air, cane and all. 'Give
it him,' said the waistcoat. 'Horficer!' screamed the ladies. Miss
J'mima Ivins's beau, and the friend's young man, lay gasping on the
gravel, and the waistcoat and whiskers were seen no more.

Miss J'mima Ivins and friend being conscious that the affray was in no
slight degree attributable to themselves, of course went into hysterics
forthwith; declared themselves the most injured of women; exclaimed, in
incoherent ravings, that they had been suspected--wrongfully
suspected--oh! that they should ever have lived to see the day--and so
forth; suffered a relapse every time they opened their eyes and saw their
unfortunate little admirers; and were carried to their respective abodes
in a hackney-coach, and a state of insensibility, compounded of shrub,
sherry, and excitement.

CHAPTER V--THE PARLOUR ORATOR

We had been lounging one evening, down Oxford-street, Holborn, Cheapside,
Coleman-street, Finsbury-square, and so on, with the intention of
returning westward, by Pentonville and the New-road, when we began to
feel rather thirsty, and disposed to rest for five or ten minutes. So,
we turned back towards an old, quiet, decent public-house, which we
remembered to have passed but a moment before (it was not far from the
City-road), for the purpose of solacing ourself with a glass of ale. The
house was none of your stuccoed, French-polished, illuminated palaces,
but a modest public-house of the old school, with a little old bar, and a
little old landlord, who, with a wife and daughter of the same pattern,
was comfortably seated in the bar aforesaid--a snug little room with a
cheerful fire, protected by a large screen: from behind which the young
lady emerged on our representing our inclination for