Salome dance. Watching this person with a cold and suspicious
eye, stood another uniformed man, holding poised above his
shoulder a sturdy club. Two Masked Marvels crouched behind him in
attitudes of watchful waiting. On wooden seats all around sat a
vast multitude of shirt-sleeved spectators, and the air was full
of voices.

One voice detached itself from the din.

"Pea-nuts! Get y'r pea-nuts!"

Something that was almost a sob shook Bingley Crocker's ample
frame. Bayliss the butler gazed down upon him with concern. He
was sure the master was unwell.

The case of Mr. Bingley Crocker was one that would have provided
an admirable "instance" for a preacher seeking to instil into an
impecunious and sceptical flock the lesson that money does not of
necessity bring with it happiness. And poetry has crystallised
his position in the following stanza.

An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain.
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again;
The birds singing gaily, that came at my call,
Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all.

Mr. Crocker had never lived in a thatched cottage, nor had his
relations with the birds of his native land ever reached the
stage of intimacy indicated by the poet; but substitute "Lambs
Club" for the former and "members" for the latter, and the