y to the
needful turns.

[Illustration: _PUNCH'S_ FIRST DINING-ROOM, "CROWN INN," VINEGAR YARD.]

Although, as I have said, conviviality and convenience were essentially
identified with the _Punch_ Dinner, especially in its embryonic stage,
when frequent interviews were necessary and the daily occupations of
many of the Staff precluded an earlier attendance, it was quickly seen
that the chief practical use and effect of the Dinner was to broaden the
men's view of things, to produce harmony of tone and singleness of aim,
to keep the Editor constantly in touch with his whole Staff, and through
them with the public; and thus to secure the fullest advantage which
their combined wit and counsel could afford. When the transfer of the
paper was completed from Ebenezer Landells to the house of Bradbury and
Evans, the regular Dinners were soon established at No. 11, Bouverie
Street, E.C., now given over to the Posts and Telegraphs. The second
floor was considered not too undignified for the purpose; but the
descent to the first was made in good time, Mark Lemon taking the
vacated room for his editorial office; and when in 1867 a general
removal was effected to No. 10, the present dining-room--or
Banqueting-Hall, as it was finely called--was specially constructed for
its high purpose. At first these repasts were held on Saturday night,
when the paper was made up and sent away to press. But when the true
value of the meetings became apparent, the day was changed to Wednesday.
The Dinner was established ostensibly for the discussion and determining
of the "big cut," and the function became as exclusive and esoteric as a
Masonic initiation. From that day to this it has, with few exceptions,
been held _januis clausis_; and beside it the Literary Ladies' Dinner
and Bluebeard's Chamber are as open to the world and free from mystery
as the public streets at noon.

[Illustration: _PUNCH'S_ PRESENT DINING-HALL IN BOUVERIE STREET,
WHITEFRIARS.]

The room in which it was held, so long the Temple of the Comic Muse, had
little in itself to command the attention of the superficial observer.
The stairs which Thackeray trod, and which resounded to the quick light
step of Jerrold and to the heavier tread of Leech, exist no longer; but
the classic shrine is practically as it was when the "Fat Contributor,"
pushing roughly past the young 'prentice engraver who opened the door to
his ring, gave no thought to him who was soon to make the name of