er by my honest shipmate, Will Wimble the
undertaker!"

At this unpardonable piece of ill-breeding, all the original company
half started to their feet, and uttered the same rapid succession of
wild fiendish shrieks which had before caught the attention of the
seamen. The president, however, was the first to recover his composure,
and at length, turning to Legs with great dignity, recommenced:

"Most willingly will we gratify any reasonable curiosity on the part of
guests so illustrious, unbidden though they be. Know then that in these
dominions I am monarch, and here rule with undivided empire under the
title of 'King Pest the First.'

"This apartment, which you no doubt profanely suppose to be the shop of
Will Wimble the undertaker--a man whom we know not, and whose plebeian
appellation has never before this night thwarted our royal ears--this
apartment, I say, is the Dais-Chamber of our Palace, devoted to the
councils of our kingdom, and to other sacred and lofty purposes.

"The noble lady who sits opposite is Queen Pest, our Serene Consort. The
other exalted personages whom you behold are all of our family, and
wear the insignia of the blood royal under the respective titles of
'His Grace the Arch Duke Pest-Iferous'--'His Grace the Duke
Pest-Ilential'--'His Grace the Duke Tem-Pest'--and 'Her Serene Highness
the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.'

"As regards," continued he, "your demand of the business upon which we
sit here in council, we might be pardoned for replying that it concerns,
and concerns alone, our own private and regal interest, and is in no
manner important to any other than ourself. But in consideration of
those rights to which as guests and strangers you may feel yourselves
entitled, we will furthermore explain that we are here this night,
prepared by deep research and accurate investigation, to examine,
analyze, and thoroughly determine the indefinable spirit--the
incomprehensible qualities and nature--of those inestimable treasures of
the palate, the wines, ales, and liqueurs of this goodly metropolis: by
so doing to advance not more our own designs than the true welfare of
that unearthly sovereign whose reign is over us all, whose dominions are
unlimited, and whose name is 'Death.'

"Whose name is Davy Jones!" ejaculated Tarpaulin, helping the lady by
his side to a skull of liqueur, and pouring out a second for himself.

"Profane varlet!" said the president, now turning his attention to
the worthy H