Some things, however, one could not help remarking: for instance, though
Fitz is my closest friend, yet could I avoid seeing and being amused by
his perplexity and his dismal efforts to be facetious? His eye wandered
all round the little room with quick uneasy glances, very different from
those frank and jovial looks with which he is accustomed to welcome you
to a leg of mutton; and Rosa, from the other end of the table, and
over the flowers, entree dishes, and wine-coolers, telegraphed him with
signals of corresponding alarm. Poor devils! why did they ever go beyond
that leg of mutton?

Funnyman was not brilliant in conversation, scarcely opening his mouth,
except for the purposes of feasting. The fact is, our friend Tom Dawson
was at table, who knew all his stories, and in his presence the greatest
wag is always silent and uneasy.

Fitz has a very pretty wit of his own, and a good reputation on circuit;
but he is timid before great people. And indeed the presence of that
awful Lady Bungay on his right hand was enough to damp him. She was in
court mourning (for the late Prince of Schlippenschloppen). She had on a
large black funereal turban and appurtenances, and a vast breastplate of
twinkling, twiddling black bugles. No wonder a man could not be gay in
talking to HER.

Mrs. Rowdy and Mrs. Topham Sawyer love each other as women do who have
the same receiving nights, and ask the same society; they were only
separated by Ranville Ranville, who tries to be well with both and they
talked at each other across him.

Topham and Rowdy growled out a conversation about Rum, Ireland, and the
Navigation Laws, quite unfit for print. Sawyer never speaks three words