--it was one that never came;
for the ventriloquist, that caused the rupture between Mr. Potts and the
"Spooney," made the "Lion" wince, by observing, "he hoped there would be
no cruelty to animals"--a remark that made our "Lion" roar
contemptuously, and call the company "bears and monkeys"--he growling,
with blood-thirsty pugnacity, about "satisfaction" and "Chalk
Farm,"--the declamatory mania causing the irascible monster to mount a
projection in the recess, covered with a curtain, bringing down an
avalanche of fenders, fire-irons, and other stowage, with a fearful
crash--crowning the "king of beasts" with a helmet-scuttle,--thus
permitting the meaner animals to escape; leaving, as Mr. Lark (who came
out last) said, between frightful gusts of laughter oozing from his
handkerchief, Jackall Brown, the lion's provider, pacifying the enraged
brute with claret or soda water; and John in such an extreme fit of awe,
that he has taken the state jug, with the hole in the bottom stopped
with sealing-wax--only intended to hold cold water, into use, for hot;
and, being unable to stop the orifice with his finger, drops the
article--to the scalding of the already enfuriated "Lion."

* * * * * *

Feet were pattering above as we left this scene of strife--no time
seeming to have been lost during the consumption of the supper; for the
hands of the clock, in the hall, pointed to an earlier hour than they
did when we descended:--the truth being, Lark, though rather fast
himself, thought Time too much so, and put him back a little. The
Wall-flower is comparing the clock with his repeater. Lark is
reprimanding him, saying--it is not _etiquette_ to do so; and that
really some one ought to tell the vulgar thing, in green satin, who wore
her button of a watch-face outward (fearing lest it should be taken for
a locket), to turn the bauble round, for it is time she was in bed.

Having been absent for a short period, we were informed by the Lark that
we had _not_ lost a treat--for Jemima had been singing, "Memory, be thou
ever true!"--whilst Lark (perpetrating a dreary pun) said, he every
moment wished the music-stool would prove a _fall setto_, and
precipitate the lady to the ground; for it was a sad pity to hear poor
Spohf's songs so murdered.

They are now at a waltz--"the Olga,"--which is carried on with spirit,
lasting a very long while--young Lark saying he does not waltz, for it
makes his head swim; and that he has an ob