ly satisfactory, and that he was thought to be, again,
within the limits of the most patriotic patriots.

In the meantime the Bivouacker had approached me, and was introduced as
Mr. Gilded Wriggle.

"Count Poke de Stunnin'tun, my good sir," said the brigadier, who
was the master of ceremonies on this occasion, "and the Mogul
Goldencalf--both noblemen of ancient lineage, admirable privileges,
and of the purest water; gentlemen who, when they are at home, have six
dinners daily, always sleep on diamonds, and whose castles are none of
them less than six leagues in extent."

"My friend General Downright has taken too much pains, gentlemen,"
interrupted our new acquaintance, "your rank and extraction being
self-evident. Welcome to Leaplow! I beg you will make free with my
house, my dog, my cat, my horse, and myself. I particularly beg that
your first, your last, and all the intermediate visits, will be to me.
Well, Mogul, what do you really think of us? You have now been on shore
long enough to have formed a pretty accurate notion of our institutions
and habits. I beg you will not judge of all of us by what you see in the
streets--"

"It is not my intention, sir."

"You are cautious, I perceive? We are in an awful condition, I confess;
trampled on by the vulgar, and far--very far from being the people
that, I dare say, you expected to see. I couldn't be made the assistant
alderman of my ward, if I wished it, sir--too much jacobism; the people
are fools, sir; know nothing, sir; not fit to rule themselves, much less
their betters, sir. Here have a set of us, some hundreds in this very
town, been telling them what fools they are, how unfit they are to
manage their own affairs, and how fast they are going to the devil, any
time these twenty years, and still we have not yet persuaded them to
entrust one of us with authority! To say the truth, we are in a most
miserable condition, and, if anything COULD ruin this country, democracy
would have ruined it just thirty-five years ago."

Here the wailings of Mr. Wriggle were interrupted by the wailings of
Count Poke de Stunnin'tun. The latter, by gazing in admiration at the
speaker, had inadvertently struck his toe against one of the forty-three
thousand seven hundred and sixty inequalities of the pavement (for
everything in Leaplow is exactly equal, except the streets and
highways), and fallen forwards on his nose. I have already had occasion
to allude to the sealer's readiness