d for PUNCH to give to his dear friends, the public, the
first and only extract which has ever been made from the genuine diary of a
_late_ Lord Mayor of London, or, as that august individual was wont, when
in Paris, to designate himself on his visiting tickets--

"Mr. ----
"FEU LORD MAYOR DE LONDRES."

How the precious MS. came into our possession matters little to the reader;
suffice it to say, it is a secret which must ever remain confined to the
bosoms of PUNCH and his cheesemonger.

DIARY.

_Nov. 10, eight o'clock._--Dreamed a horrid dream--thought that I was
stretched in Guildhall with the two giants sitting on my chest, and
drinking rum toddy out of firemen's buckets--fancied the Board of Aldermen
were transformed into skittle-pins, and the police force into bottles of
_Harvey's sauce_. Tried to squeak, but couldn't. Then I imagined that I was
changed into the devil, and that Alderman Harmer was St. Dunstan, tweaking
my nose with a pair of red-hot tongs. This time, I think, I _did_ shout
lustily. Awoke with the fright, and found my wife pulling my nose
vigorously, and calling me "My Lord!" Pulled off my nightcap, and began to
have an idea I was somebody, but could not tell exactly who. Suddenly my
eye rested upon the civic gown and chain, which lay upon a chair by my
bed-side:--the truth flashed upon my mind--I felt I was a _real_ Lord
Mayor. I remembered clearly that yesterday I had been sworn into office. I
had a perfect recollection of the glass-coach, and the sheriffs, and the
men in armour, and the band playing "Jim along Josey," as we passed the
Fleet Prison, and the glories of the city barge at Blackfriars-bridge, and
the enthusiastic delight with which the assembled multitude witnessed--

[Illustration: THE LORD MAYOR TAKING WATER.]

I could also call to mind the dinner--the turtle, venison, and turbot--and
the popping of the corks from the throats of the champagne bottles. I was
conscious, too, that I had made a speech; but, beyond this point, all the
events of the night were lost in chaotic confusion. One thing, however, was
certain--I was a _bona fide_ Lord Mayor--and being aware of the arduous
duties I had to perform, I resolved to enter upon them at once. Accordingly
I arose, and as some poet says--

"Commenced sacrificing to the Graces,
By putting on my breeches."

Sent for a barber, and authorised him to remove the superfluous hair from
my chin--at the same time made him aware