d it was just like Haliburton's
Latin conversation with the Hungarian minister, of which he is very
fond of telling. "_Quoene sit historia Reformationis in Ungaria?_"
quoth Haliburton, after some thought. And his _confrere_ replied
gallantly, "_In seculo decimo tertio,_" etc., etc., etc.; and from
_decimo tertio_ [Which means, "In the thirteenth century," my dear
little bell-and-coral reader. You have rightly guessed that the
question means, "What is the history of the Reformation in Hungary?"]
to the nineteenth century and a half lasted till the oysters came. So
was it that before Dr. Ochterlong came to the "success," or near it,
Governor Gorges came to Dennis and asked him to hand Mrs. Jeffries
down to supper, a request which he heard with great joy.

Polly was skipping round the room, I guess, gay as a lark. Auchmuty
came to her "in pity for poor Ingham," who was so bored by the stupid
pundit--and Auchmuty could not understand why I stood it so long. But
when Dennis took Mrs. Jeffries down, Polly could not resist standing
near them. He was a little flustered, till the sight of the eatables
and drinkables gave him the same Mercian courage which it gave
Diggory. A little excited then, he attempted one or two of his
speeches to the Judge's lady. But little he knew how hard it was to
get in even a _promptu_ there edgewise. "Very well, I thank you," said
he, after the eating elements were adjusted; "and you?" And then did
not he have to hear about the mumps, and the measles, and arnica, and
belladonna, and chamomile-flower, and dodecathem, till she changed
oysters for salad--and then about the old practice and the new, and
what her sister said, and what her sister's friend said, and what the
physician to her sister's friend said, and then what was said by the
brother of the sister of the physician of the friend of her sister,
exactly as if it had been in Ollendorff? There was a moment's pause,
as she declined champagne. "I am very glad you liked it," said Dennis
again, which he never should have said, but to one who complimented a
sermon. "Oh! you are so sharp, Mr. Ingham! No! I never drink any wine
at all--except sometimes in summer a little currant spirits--from our
own currants, you know. My own mother--that is, I call her my own
mother, because, you know, I do not remember," etc., etc., etc.; till
they came to the candied orange at the end of the feast--when Dennis,
rather confused, thought he must say something, and