ke trying, 'for he who never
makes an effort never risks a failure.'" The couples were soon formed
and ranged for a fresh dance. Jorrocks took a conspicuous position in
the centre of the room, buttoned his coat, and, as the music struck up,
put his arm round the waist of his partner. The Countess, it seems, had
some misgivings as to his prowess in the dancing line, and used all her
strength to get him well off, but the majority of the dancers started
before him. At length, however, he began to move, and went rolling away
in something between a gallop and a waltz, effecting two turns, like a
great cart-wheel, which brought him bang across the room, right into the
track of another couple, who were swinging down at full speed, making a
cannon with his head against both theirs, and ending by all four coming
down upon the hard boards with a tremendous crash--the Countess Benvolio
undermost, then the partner of the other Countess, then Jorrocks, and
then the other Countess herself. Great was the commotion, and the music
stopped; Jorrocks lost his wig, and split his Beelzebub breeches across
the knees, while the other gentleman cracked his behind--and the
Countess Benvolio and the other Countess were considerably damaged;
particularly the other Countess, who lost four false teeth and broke an
ear-ring. This, however, was not the worst, for as soon as they were
all scraped together and set right again, the other Countess's partner
attacked Jorrocks most furiously, calling him a _sacre-nom de-Dieu'd
bete_ of an Englishman, a mauvais sujet, a cochon, etc., then spitting
on the floor--the greatest insult a Frenchman can offer--he vapoured
about being one of the "grand nation," "that he was brave--the world
knew it," and concluded by thrusting his card--"Monsieur Charles Adolphe
Eugene, Confiturier, No. 15 bis, Rue Poupee"--into Jorrocks's face. It
was now Jorrocks's turn to speak, so doubling his fists, and getting
close to him, he held one to his nose, exclaiming, "D--n ye, sir, je
suis--JORROCKS!--Je suis an Englishman! je vous lick within an inch of
your life! --Je vous kick!--je vous mill!--je vous flabbergaster!" and
concluded by giving him his card, "Monsieur le Colonel Jorrocks, No 3,
Rue des Mauvais-Garcons."

A friend of the confectioner's interposed and got him away, and Mr.
Stubbs persuaded Mr. Jorrocks to return into the cardroom, where they
were speedily waited upon by the friend of the former, who announced
that the