took water, and in the barge tasted none of the
collation, for all he heard, saw, and swallowed was 'Lord Mayor' and
'your lordship,' far sweeter than nectar. At the presentation at
Westminster, he saw two of the judges, whom he remembered on the
circuit, when he trembled at the sight of them, believing them to be
some extraordinary creatures, upon whom all the hair and fur grew
naturally.

"Then the Lady Mayoress. There she was--Sally Scropps (her maiden name
was Snob). 'There was my own Sally, with a plume of feathers that half
filled the coach, and Jenny and Maria and young Sally, all with their
backs to _my_ horses, which were pawing with mud, and snorting and
smoking like steam-engines, with nostrils like safety valves, and four
of _my_ footmen behind the coach, like bees in a swarm.'"

Perhaps the most effective portion of the paper is the _reverse_ of the
picture. My lord and lady and their family had just got settled in the
Mansion House, and enjoying their dignity, when the 9th of November came
again--the consummation of Scropps' downfall. Again did they go in state
to Guildhall; again were they toasted and addressed; again were they
handed in and led out, flirted with Cabinet ministers, and danced with
ambassadors; and at two o'clock in the morning drove home from the scene
of gaiety to the old residence in Budge Row. "Never in the world did
pickled herrings or turpentine smell so powerfully as on that night when
we re-entered the house.... The passage looked so narrow; the
drawing-room looked so small; the staircase seemed so dark; our
apartments appeared so low. In the morning we assembled at breakfast. A
note lay upon the table, addressed 'Mrs. Scropps, Budge Row.' The girls,
one after the other, took it up, read the superscription, and laid it
down again. A visitor was announced--a neighbour and kind friend, a man
of wealth and importance. What were his first words? They were the first
I had heard from a stranger since my job. 'How are you, Scropps? Done
up, eh?'

"Scropps! No obsequiousness, no deference, no respect. No 'My lord, I
hope your lordship passed an agreeable night. And how is her ladyship,
and her amiable daughters?' No, not a bit of it! 'How's Mrs. S. and the
_gals_?' This was quite natural, all as it had been. But how unlike what
it _was_ only the day before! The very servants--who, when amidst the
strapping, stall-fed, gold-laced lackeys of the Mansion House, and
transferred, with the c