e departed for the
country, and, as fate would have it, arrived at the inn then occupied by
Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk.

In this out-of-the-way place he fondly imagined he had never been heard
of. Judge then of his surprise, after his dinner and pint of wine, at the
following information.

_Fitz._ "Waiter."

"Yes, sar."

"Who have you in the house?"

"Fust of company, sar;--alwaist, sar."

"Oh! of course;--any one in particular?"

"Yes, sar, very particular: one gentleman very particular, indeed. Has his
bed warmed with brown sugar in the pan, and drinks asses' milk, sar, for
breakfast!"

"Strange fellow! but I mean any one of name?"

"Yes, sar, a German, sar; with a name so long, sar, it take all the indoor
servants and a stable-helper to call him up of a morning."

"You don't understand me. Have you any public people here?"

"Yes, sar--great man from town, sar--belongs to the Theatre--Mr. Fitzflam,
sar--quite the gentleman, sar."

"Thank you for the compliment" (_bowing low_).

"No compliment at all, sar; would you like to see him, sar?--sell you a
ticket, sar; or buy one of you, sar."

"What?"

"House expected to be full, sar--sure to sell it again, sar."

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"The play, sar--Fitzflam, sar!--there's the bill, sar, and (_bell rings_)
there's the bell, sar. Coming." (_Exit Waiter_.)

The first thing that suggested itself to the mind of Mr. Hannibal
Fitzflummery Fitzflam was the absolute necessity of insisting upon that
insane waiter's submitting to the total loss of his well-greased locks,
and enveloping his outward man in an extra-strong strait-waistcoat; the
next was to look at the bill, and there he saw--"horror of horrors!"--the
name, "the bright ancestral name"--the name he bore, bursting forth in all
the reckless impudence of the largest type and the reddest vermilion!

Anger, rage, and indignation, like so many candidates for the exalted
mutton on a greased pole, rushed tumultuously over each other's heads,
each anxious to gain the "ascendant" in the bosom of Mr. Hannibal
Fitzflummery Fitzflam. To reduce a six-and-ninepenny gossamer to the
fac-simile of a bereaved muffin in mourning by one vigorous blow wherewith
he secured it on his head, grasp his ample cane and three half-sucked
oranges (in case it should come to pelting), and rush to the theatre, was
the work of just twelve minutes and a half. In another brief moment,
payment having been ten