struck me before; but now you mention it, I-Hollo! hollo!"-shouted the persecuted individual, as the omnibus dashed past Drury-lane, where he had directed to be set down." Where is the cad?" "I think he's on the box, sir," said the young gentleman before noticed in the pink shirt, which looked like a white one ruled with red ink.

"I want to be set down!" said Dumps in a faint voice, overcome by his previous efforts.

"I think these cads want to be set down," returned the attorney's clerk, chuckling at his sally.

"Hollo!" cried Dumps again. "Hollo!" echoed the passengers. omnibus passed St. Giles's church.

The

"Hold hard!" said the conductor; "I'm blowed if we ha'n't forgot the gen'lm'n as vas to be set down at Doory-lane. Now, sir, make haste, if you please," he added, opening the door, and assisting Dumps out with as much coolness as if it was "all right." Dump's indignation was for once getting the better of his cynical equanimity. Drury-lane!" he gasped, with the voice of a boy in a cold bath for the first time.

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"Doory-lane, sir? yes, sir,— third turning on the right hand side, sir."

Dumps's passion was paramount; he clutched his umbrella, and was striding off with the firm determination of not paying the fare. The cad, by a remarkable coincidence, happened to entertain a directly contrary opinion, and Heaven knows how far the altercation would have proceeded, if it had not been most ably and satisfactorily brought to a close by the driver.

"Hollo!" said that respectable person, standing up on the box, and leaning with one hand on the roof of the omnibus. "Hollo, Tom! tell the gentleman if so be as he feels aggrieved, we will take him up to the Edge-er (Edgeware) Road for nothing, and set him down at Doorylane when we comes back. He can't reject that, anyhow."

The argument was irresistible: Dumps paid the disputed sixpence, and in a quarter of an hour was on the stair-case of No. 14, Great Russell-street.

Every thing indicated that preparations were making for the reception of "a few friends" in the evening. Two dozen extra tumblers, and four ditto wine-glasses -looking any thing but transparent, with ittle bits of straw in them-were on the slab in the passage, just arrived. There was a great smell of nutmeg, port wine,

and almonds, on the staircase; the covers were taken off the stair-carpet, and the figure of Venus on the first landing looked as if she were ashamed of the composition-candle in her right hand, which contrasted beautifully with the lamp-blacked drapery of the goddess of love. The female servant (who looked very warm and bustling) ushered Dumps into a front drawing-room, very prettily furnished, with a plentiful sprinkling of little bas kets, paper table-mats, china watchmen, pink and gold albums, and rainbow-bound little books on the different tables.

"Ah, uncle!" said Mr. Kitterbell, "how d'ye do? Allow me-Jemima, my dear my uncle. I think you've seen Jemima before, sir?"

"Have had the pleasure," returned big Dumps, his tone and look making it doubtful whether in his life he had ever expe rienced the sensation.

"I'm sure," said Mrs. Kitterbell, with a languid smile, and a slight cough, “I'm sure-hem-any friend-of Charles'shem-much less a relation, is

"I knew you'd say so, my love," said little Kitterbell, who, while he appeared to be gazing upon the opposite houses, was looking at his wife with a most affectionate air; "bless you!" The last two words were accompanied with a simper, and a squeeze of the hand, which stirred up all uncle Dumps's bile.

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‘Jane, tell nurse to bring down baby," said Mrs. Kitterbell, addressing the servant. Mrs. Kitterbell was a tall, thin young lady, with very light hair, and a particularly white face-one of those young women who almost invariably, though one hardly knows why, recall to one's mind the idea of a cold fillet of veal. Out went the servant, and in came the nurse, with a remarkably small parcel in her arms, packed up in a blue mantle trimmed with white fur-This was the baby.

"Now, uncle," said Mr. Kitterbell, lifting up that part of the mantle which cov ered the infant's face, with an air of great triumph, "Who do you think he's like?"

"He he! Yes, who?" said Mrs. K. putting her arm through her husband's, and looking up into Dumps's face with an expression of as much interest as she was capable of displaying.

"Good God, how small he is!" cried the amiable uncle, starting back with well-feigned surprise; "remarkably small indeed."

"Do you think so?" inquired poor lit tle Kitterbell, rather alarmed.

"He

monster to what he was-ain't he, ourse?"

"He's a dear," said the nurse, squeezing the child, and evading the questionnot because she scrupled to disguise the fact, but because she couldn't afford to throw away the chance of Dumps's half

crown.

"Well, but who is he like?" inquired little Kitterbell.

Dumps looked at the little pink-heap before him, and only thought at the moment of the best mode of mortifying the youthful parents.

“I really don't know who he's like," he answered, very well knowing the reply expected of him.

Don't you think he's like me?" inquired his nephew, with a knowing air.

“Oh, decidedly not!" returned Dumps, with an emphasis not to be misunderstood. "Decidedly not like you.—Oh, certainly not."

"Like Jemima?" asked Kitterbell, faintly. "Oh dear, no; not in the least. I'm no judge, of course, in such cases; but I really think he's more like one of those little carved representations that one sometimes sees blowing a trumpet on a tombstone!" The nurse stooped down over the child, and with great difficulty prevented an explosion of mirth. Pa and ma looked almost as miserable as their amiable uncle. "Well!" said the disappointed little father, "you'll be better able to tell what he's like by-and-by. You shall see him this evening with his mantle oft:"

"Thank you," said Dumps, feeling particularly grateful.

"Now, my love," said Kitterbell to his wife, "it's time we were off. We're to meet the other godfather and the godmother at the church, uncle-Mr. and Mrs. Wilson over the way-uncommonly nice people. My love, are you well wrapped up?"

"Yes, dear."

"Are you sure you won't have another shawl?" inquired the anxious husband.

"No, sweet," returned the charming mother, accepting Dumps's proffered arm; and the little party entered the hackneycoach that was to take them to the church; Dumps amusing Mrs. Kitterbell by expatiating largely on the danger of measles, thrush, teeth-cutting, and other interesting diseases to which children are subject.

The ceremony (which occupied about five minutes) passed off without any thing particular occurring. The clergyman had to dine some distance from town, and had two churchings, three christenings, and a

funeral to perform in something less than an hour. The godfathers and godmother, therefore, promised to renounce the devil and all his works-" and all that sort of thing"- -as little Kitterbell said-" in less than no time;" and, with the exception of Dumps nearly letting the child fall into the font when he handed it to the clergyman, the whole affair went off in the usual business-like and matter-of-course manner, and Dumps re-entered the Bank-gates at two o'clock with a heavy heart, and the painful conviction that he was regularly booked for an evening party.

Evening came-and so did Dumps's pumps, black silk stockings, and white cravat which he had ordered to be forwarded, per boy, from Pentonville. The depressed godfather dressed himself at a friend's counting-house, from whence, with his spirits fifty degrees below proof, he sallied forth-as the weather had cleared up, and the evening was tolerably fine-to walk to Great Russell-street. Slowly he paced up Cheapside, Newgate-street, down Snowhill, and up Holborn ditto, looking as grim as the figure-head of a man-of-war, and finding out fresh causes of misery at every step. As he was crossing the corner of Hatton-garden, a man apparently intoxicated, rushed against him, and would have knocked him down had he not been providentially caught by a very genteel young man who happened to be close to him at the time. The shock so disarranged Dumps's nerves, as well as his dress, that he could hardly stand. The gentleman took his arm, and in the kindest manner walked with him as far as Furnival's Inn. Dumps, for about the first time in his life, felt grateful and polite; and he and the gentlemanly-looking young man parted with mutual expressions of good will.

"There are at least some well-disposed men in the world," ruminated the misanthropical Dumps, as he proceeded towards his destination.

Rat-tat-ta-ra-ra-ra-ra-rat-knocked a hackney-coachman at Kitterbell's door, in imitation of a gentleman's servant, just as Dumps reached it; and out came an old lady in a large toque, and an old gentleman in a blue coat, and three female copies of the old lady in pink dresses, and shoes to match.

"It's a large party,” sighed the unhappy godfather, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, and leaning against the arearailings. It was sometime before the miserable man could muster up courage to knock at the door, and when he did, the smart appearance of a neighbouring green

grocer (who had been hired to wait for seven and sixpence, and whose calves alone were worth double the money,) the lamp in the passage, and the Venus on the landing, added to the hum of many voices, and the sound of a harp and two violins, painfully convinced him that his surmises were but too well founded.

“How are you?" said little Kitterbell, in a greater bustle than ever, bolting out of the little back parlour with a corkscrew in his hand, and various particles of sawdust, looking like so many inverted commas, on his inexpressibles.

"Good God!" said Dumps turning into the aforesaid parlour to put his shoes on which he had brought in his coat-pocket, and still more appalled by the sight of sev en fresh-drawn corks, and a corresponding number of decanters. "How many people are there up stairs?"

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'Oh, not above thirty-five. We've had the carpet taken up in the back drawing-room, and the piano and the card-tables are in the front. Jemima thought we'd better have a regular sit-down supper, in the front parlour, because of the speechifying, and all that. But, Lord! uncle, what's the matter?" continued the excited little man, as Dumps stood with one shoe on, rummaging his pockets with the most frightful distortion of visage. "What have you lost? Your pocket-book!" "No," returned Dumps, diving first into one pocket and then into the other, and speaking in a voice like Desdemona with the pillow over her mouth.

"Your card-case? snuff-box? the key of your lodgings?" continued Kitterbell, pouring question on question with the rapidity of lightning.

"No! no!" ejaculated Dumps, still diving eagerly into his empty pocket.

"Not-not-the mug you spoke of this morning?"

salmon might be supposed to be on a gravel walk.

"Happy to see you again," said Mrs. Kitterbell, quite unconscious of the unfortunate man's confusion and misery; "you must allow me to introduce you to a few of our friends:-my mamma, Mr. Dumps

my papa and sisters." Dumps seized the hand of the mother as warmly as if she was his own parent, bowed to the young la dies, and against a gentleman behind him, and took no notice whatever of the father, who had been bowing incessantly for three minutes and a quarter.

"Uncle," said little Kitterbell, after Dumps had been introduced to a select dozen or two, "you must let me lead you to the other end of the room, to introduce you to my friend Danton. Such a splendid fellow!--I'm sure you'll like him— this way."-Dumps followed as tractably as a tame bear.

Mr. Danton was a young man of about five-and-twenty, with a considerable stock of impudence, and a very small share of ideas: he was a great favourite, especially with young ladies of from sixteen to twenty-six years of age, both inclusive. He could imitate the French-horn to admiration, sang comic songs most inimitably, and had the most insinuating way of saying impertinent nothings to his doting fe male admirers. He had acquired, somehow or other, the reputation of being a great wit, and, accordingly, whenever he opened his mouth, every body who knew him laughed very heartily.

The introduction took place in due form. Mr. Danton bowed and twirled a lady's handkerchief, which he held in his hand, in a most comic way. Every body smiled.

Very warm," said Dumps, feeling it necessary to say something.

"Yes. It was warmer yesterday," returned the brilliant Mr. Danton.-A gene

"Mr. Dumps!" shouted the greengrocer in a stentorian voice, as he ushered the somewhat recovered godfather into the drawing-room half an hour after the above declaration. "Mr. Dumps!"-every body looked at the door, and in came Dumps, fueling about as much out of place as a

A general hum of admiration interrupted the conversation, and announced the entrance of nurse with the baby. An universal rush of the young ladies immediately took place. (Girls are always so fond of babies in company.)

"Oh, you dear!" said one.

"How sweet!" cried another, in a low tone of the most enthusiastic admiration. Heavenly!" added a third.

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"Oh! what dear little arms!" said a fourth, holding up an arm and fist about he size and shape of the leg of a fowl cleanly picked.

"Did you ever"-said a little coquette with a large bustle, who looked like a French lithograph, appealing to a gentleinan in three waistcoats-"Did you ever!" "Never, in my life," returned her admirer, pulling up his collar.

"Oh! do let me take it, nurse,” cried another young lady. "The love!"

"Can it open its eyes, nurse?" inquired another, affecting the utmost innocence. Suffice it to say, that the single ladies unanimously voted him an angel, and that the married ones, nem. con., agreed that he was decidedly the finest baby they had ever beheld-except their own.

The quadrilles were resumed with great spirit. Mr. Danton was universally admitted to be beyond himself, several young ladies enchanted the company and gained admirers by singing "We met"-"I saw her at the Fancy Fair"-and other equally sentimental and interesting ballads. "The young men," as Mrs. Kitterbell said, "made themselves very agreeable;" the girls did not lose their opportunity; and the evening promised to go off excellently. Dumps didn't mind it: he had devised a plan for himself—a little bit of fun in his own way-and he was almost happy! He played a rubber and lost every point. Mr. Danton said he could not have lost every point, because he made a point of losing:-every body laughed tremendously. Dumps retorted with a better joke, and nobody smiled, with the exception of the host, who seemed to consider it his duty to laugh till he was black in the face, at every thing. There was only one drawback-the musicians did not play with quite as much spirit as could have been wished. The cause, however, was satisfactorily explained; for it appeared, on the testimony of a gentleman who had come up from Gravesend in the afternoon, that they had been engaged on board a steamer all day, and had played almost without cessation all the way to Gravesend, and all the way back again.

The "sit-down supper" was excellent; there were four barley-sugar temples on the table, which would have looked beautiful if they had not melted away when the supper began; and a water-mill, whose only fault was that instead of going round, it ran over the table-cloth. Then there were fowls, and tongue, and trifle, and sweets, and lobster salad, and potted beef -and every thing. And little Kitterbell

kept calling out for clean plates, and the clean plates did not come; and then the gentlemen who wanted the plates said they didn't mind they'd take a lady's; and then Mrs. Kitterbell applauded their gal lantry, and the greengrocer ran about till he thought his seven and sixpence was very hardly earned; and the young ladies didn't eat much for fear it shouldn't look romantic, and the married ladies eat as much as possible, for fear they shouldn't have enough; and a great deal of wine was drunk, and every body talked and laughed considerably.

"Hush! hush!" said Mr. Kitterbell, rising and looking very important. "My love (this was addressed to his wife at the other end of the table,) take care of Mrs. Maxwell, and your mamma, and the rest of the married ladies; the gentlemen will persuade the young ladies to fill their glasses, I am sure.'

"Ladies and gentlemen," said long Dumps, in a very sepulchral voice and rueful accent, rising from his chair like the ghost in Don Juan, "will you have the kindness to charge your glasses? I am desirous of proposing a toast."

A dead silence ensued, and the glasses were filled-every body looked serious.

“Ladies and gentlemen," slowly continued the ominous Dumps, “I”—(here Mr. Danton imitated two notes from the French-horn, in a very loud key, which electrified the nervous toast-proposer, and convulsed his audience.)

"Order! order!" said little Kitterbell, endeavouring to suppress his laughter. "Order!" said the gentlemen.

Danton, be quiet," said a particular friend on the opposite side of the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen," resumed Dumps, somewhat recovered, and not much disconcerted, for he was always a pretty good hand at a speech—“In accordance with what is, I believe, the established usage on these occasions, I, as one of the godfathers of Master Frederick Charles William Kitterbell - (here the speaker's voice faltered, for he remembered the mug) venture to rise to propose a toast. I need hardly say that it is the health and prosperity of that young gen. tleman, the particular event of whose early life we are here met to celebrate(applause.) Ladies and gentlemen, it is impossible to suppose that our friends here, whose sincere well-wishers we all are, can pass through life without some trials, considerable suffering, severe affliction, and heavy losses!"-Here the arch-tra tor paused, and slowly drew forth a long,