jection to stand holding by
the shelf, experiencing a sensation delightful as standing upon one's
head in a swing, before a lady that ought to have your best
attention;--however, for all Lark's protestations, we saw some one-sided
smiles, as much as to say, _his_ vulnerable part, like that of Achilles,
lay in the heels--an insinuation Lark could well afford to allow, for he
does not live to _dance_, alone, like some sage, perfect, performers.

After the "Caledonians" and another polk (which, for diversion, young
Brown has danced to the tune of the "College-hornpipe"--a pleasing
eccentricity), followed a quadrille, _a la Francaise_, danced without
sides, in two very long lines--a style reported to have been imported
from a Casino, and not held to be proper by sober people. So, Potts got
a disgust for the polka, and thought _it_ improper--a dance he never
patronised or wished to--it being too _fast_ for the dull
apothecary!--he hated it, because once an inveterate polkist nearly
knocked his _patella_, or knee-pan, off, with some hard substance in the
flying tails of the dancer's dress-coat--a huge street-door key, that
ought to have been left in the _paletot_.

Our evening is drawing to a close:--the mouths in the boudoir are
assuming the shape of elongated O's--an epidemic that has extended to
the Wall-flowers; the "harp" has accompanied his instrument with fitful
snores; the "violin" scarcely knows the back from the front of his
fiddle, or the "cornet" which end to blow into;--yet, upon being asked
for "Roger de Coverley," they make a desperate effort to awake, for they
know it to be the last dance--which is supported by the whole strength
of the company,--Captain de Camp leading off with Mrs. Brown, and Mr.
Brown with Lady Lucretia. Thus ends the Christmas Ball!

The still-room is being besieged for coffee; and there is a great
difficulty in obtaining hats and coats--unfortunately few of the tickets
corresponding,--for Alphonso's ward was precipitated down the kitchen
stairs, it having been too heavily laden. Lady and Miss Highbury are
seen to their carriage by Mr. Lark, who departs in Lord Towney's cab,
with a "_Gibus_" hat, mechanically deranged--all wrinkles, like a
jockey's boot. Upon being asked, by a lanthorn-bearer, "if his Honor has
such a thing as a pint o' beer in his pocket?" Mr. Lark, with playful
irony, informs the supernumerary that malt liquor is not a solid,
neither is it to be obtained at evening par