eye rested upon the civic gown and chain, which lay upon a chair by my
bed-side:--the truth flashed upon my mind--I felt I was a _real_ Lord
Mayor. I remembered clearly that yesterday I had been sworn into office. I
had a perfect recollection of the glass-coach, and the sheriffs, and the
men in armour, and the band playing "Jim along Josey," as we passed the
Fleet Prison, and the glories of the city barge at Blackfriars-bridge, and
the enthusiastic delight with which the assembled multitude witnessed--

[Illustration: THE LORD MAYOR TAKING WATER.]

I could also call to mind the dinner--the turtle, venison, and turbot--and
the popping of the corks from the throats of the champagne bottles. I was
conscious, too, that I had made a speech; but, beyond this point, all the
events of the night were lost in chaotic confusion. One thing, however, was
certain--I was a _bonâ fide_ Lord Mayor--and being aware of the arduous
duties I had to perform, I resolved to enter upon them at once. Accordingly
I arose, and as some poet says--

"Commenced sacrificing to the Graces,
By putting on my breeches."

Sent for a barber, and authorised him to remove the superfluous hair from
my chin--at the same time made him aware of the high honour I had conferred
upon him by placing the head of the city under his razor--thought I
detected the fellow's tongue in his cheek, but couldn't be certain. _Mem._
Never employ the rascal again.

_9 o'clock._--Dressed in full fig--sword very troublesome--getting
continually between my legs. Sat down to breakfast--her ladyship
complimented me on my appearance--said I looked the _beau ideal_ of a