showed the
pleasure he felt in his demeanour at the board. At one time these two
men sat side by side, and there was as little love as space between
them; but with the good-humoured philosophy which is a tradition of that
institution, the occasional differences of opinion, and the harder
knocks of wit, and sometimes, even, the still sharper encounters of
temper, were all glossed over. As Thackeray so truly remarked
himself--"What is the use of quarrelling with a man if you have to meet
him every Wednesday at dinner?" Nevertheless, in course of time he
changed his seat from between Jerrold and Gilbert Abbott a Beckett, and,
crossing over, faced his friend the enemy, while Mark Lemon, watchful
and alert beneath the cloak of geniality, was quick to cast a damping
word on inflammable conversation and--so far as he could persuade them
to listen to a man so greatly their inferior in genius and intellect--to
stem the threatened outburst. As a matter of fact, Jerrold always
regarded Thackeray as a bit of a snob and viewed his entrance into
Society--against which Jerrold had for years been hurling his bitterest
darts--with very grave suspicion. "I have known Thackeray," he would
say, "for eighteen years, and I don't know him yet"--almost in the
despairing words in which I have heard a distinguished Academician speak
of his still more distinguished President. On the other hand, Mr. Arthur
a Beckett has declared to me, "I never knew my brother so well as when I
met him at the _Punch_ Table."

[Illustration: J. BERNARD PARTRIDGE'S INITIALS.]

[Illustration: PHIL MAY'S INITIALS.]

[Illustration: COMMENCEMENT OF C. H. BENNETT'S MONOGRAM.]

In the earliest weeks of _Punch's_ existence Kenny Meadows had been the
Nestor of the least; but when Jerrold joined the Staff three months
later, he took by force of character and wit, and power of lung, a
leading position on the paper and at the Table--a position which he
never resigned. Notwithstanding his biting sallies, we may be sure that
it was not Jerrold's primary object to make his victims wince. There is
no doubt that the "little wine" that so stimulated him to witty and
brilliant conversation full of flash and repartee, sometimes turned sour
upon his lips, and changed the kindness that was in his heart into a
semblance of gall. Mr. Sidney Cooper has gravely set it on record how on
leaving the _Punch_ Dinner Jerrold would tie a label with his name and
address upon it round his neck,