a little way off his seat and sitting down again, in token that he
recognised and returned the compliment, 'perhaps you will add to
that condescension by telling us who Tom Grig was, and how he came
to be connected in your mind with Francis Moore, Physician.'

'Hear, hear, hear!' cried the lamplighters generally.

'Tom Grig, gentlemen,' said the chairman, 'was one of us; and it
happened to him, as it don't often happen to a public character in
our line, that he had his what-you-may-call-it cast.'

'His head?' said the vice.

'No,' replied the chairman, 'not his head.'

'His face, perhaps?' said the vice. 'No, not his face.' 'His
legs?' 'No, not his legs.' Nor yet his arms, nor his hands, nor
his feet, nor his chest, all of which were severally suggested.

'His nativity, perhaps?'

'That's it,' said the chairman, awakening from his thoughtful
attitude at the suggestion. 'His nativity. That's what Tom had
cast, gentlemen.'

'In plaster?' asked the vice.

'I don't rightly know how it's done,' returned the chairman. 'But
I suppose it was.'