aughed at all Mr. Merryman's remarks,
though he remembered them with remarkable accuracy, and insisted upon
waiting to the very end of the fun, and was only induced to retire just
before its conclusion by representations that the ladies of the party
would be incommoded if they were to wait and undergo the rush and
trample of the crowd round about. When this fact was pointed out to
him, he yielded at once, though with a heavy heart, his eyes looking
longingly towards the ring as we retreated out of the booth. We were
scarcely clear of the place, when we heard "God save the Queen," played
by the equestrian band, the signal that all was over. Our companion
entertained us with scraps of the dialogue on our way home--precious
crumbs of wit which he had brought away from that feast. He laughed over
them again as we walked under the stars. He has them now, and takes them
out of the pocket of his memory, and crunches a bit, and relishes it
with a sentimental tenderness, too, for he is, no doubt, back at school
by this time; the holidays are over; and Doctor Birch's young friends
have reassembled.

Queer jokes, which caused a thousand simple mouths to grin! As the jaded
Merryman uttered them to the old gentleman with the whip, some of the
old folks in the audience, I dare say, indulged in reflections of their
own. There was one joke--I utterly forget it--but it began with Merryman
saying what he had for dinner. He had mutton for dinner, at one o'clock,
after which "he had to COME TO BUSINESS." And then came the point.
Walter Juvenis, Esq., Rev. Doctor Birch's, Market Rodborough, if you
read this, will you please send me a line, and let me know what was
the joke Mr. Merryman made about having his dinner? YOU remember
well enough. But do I want to know? Suppose a boy takes a favorite,
long-cherished lump of cake out of his pocket, and offers you a bite?
Merci! The fact is, I DON'T care much about knowing that joke of Mr.
Merryman's.

But whilst he was talking about his dinner, and his mutton, and his
landlord, and his business, I felt a great interest about Mr. M. in
private life--about his wife, lodgings, earnings, and general history,
and I dare say was forming a picture of those in my mind--wife cooking
the mutton: children waiting for it; Merryman in his plain clothes, and
so forth; during which contemplation the joke was uttered and laughed
at, and Mr. M., resuming his professional duties, was tumbling over
head and heels.