each person's helbows will be into his neighbor's cheer."

"Rosa! Mrs. Gashleigh!" cried out Timmins, "come down and speak to this
gentl--this--"

"Truncheon, sir," said the man.

The women descended from the drawing-room. "Look and see, ladies," he
said, inducting them into the dining-room: "there's the room, there's
the table laid for heighteen, and I defy you to squeege in more."

"One person in a party always fails," said Mrs. Gashleigh, getting
alarmed.

"That's nineteen," Mr. Truncheon remarked. "We must knock another hoff,
Ma'm." And he looked her hard in the face.

Mrs. Gashleigh was very red and nervous, and paced, or rather squeezed
round the table (it was as much as she could do). The chairs could not
be put any closer than they were. It was impossible, unless the convive
sat as a centre-piece in the middle, to put another guest at that table.

"Look at that lady movin' round, sir. You see now the difficklty. If
my men wasn't thinner, they couldn't hoperate at all," Mr. Truncheon
observed, who seemed to have a spite to Mrs. Gashleigh.

"What is to be done?" she said, with purple accents.

"My dearest mamma," Rosa cried out, "you must stop at home--how sorry I
am!" And she shot one glance at Fitzroy, who shot another at the great