h didn't hit it, of course, but flew across the tops of the boxes, and
broke upon a lady's head."

"What a mess it must have made?" interposes Mr. Manhug. "Coffee-shop eggs
are always so very albuminous."

"Once I found some feathers in one, and a foetal chick," observes Mr.
Rapp.

"Knock that down for a good one!" says Mr. Jones, taking the poker and
striking three distinct blows on the mantel-piece, the last of which
breaks off the corner. "Well, what did the lady do?"

"Commenced kicking up an extensive shindy, something between crying,
coughing, and abusing, until somebody in a fustian coat, addressing the
assailant, said, 'he was no gentleman, whoever he was, to throw eggs at a
woman; and that if he'd come out he'd pretty soon butter his crumpets on
both sides for him, and give him pepper for nothing.' The master of the
coffee shop now came forward and said, 'he wasn't a going to have no
uproar in his house, which was very respectable, and always used by the
first of company, and if they wanted to quarrel, they might fight it out
in the streets.' Whereupon they all began to barge the master at
once,--one saying 'his coffee was all snuff and duckweed,' or something of
the kind; whilst the other told him 'he looked as measly as a mouldy
muffin;' and then all of a sudden a lot of half-pint cups and pewter
spoons flew up in the air, and the three men began an indiscriminate
battle all to themselves, in one of the boxes, 'fighting quite permiscus,'
as the lady properly observed. I think the landlord was worst off though;
he got a very queer wipe across the face from the handle of his own
toasting-fork."

"And what did you do, Muff?" asks Mr. Manhug.

"Ah, that was the finishing card of all. I put the gas out, and was
walking off as quietly as could be, when some policemen who heard the row
outside met me at the door, and wouldn't let me pass. I said I would, and
they said I should not, until we came to scuffling, and then one of them
calling to some more, told them to take me to Bow-street, which they did;
but I made them carry me though. When I got into the office they had not
any especial charge to make against me, and the old bird behind the
partition said I might go about my business; but, as ill luck would have
it, another of the unboiled ones recognised me as one of the party who had
upset the wooden blocks--he knew me again by my d--d Taglioni."

"And what did they do to you?"

"Marched me across the yar