at gentleman
at the foot of the table. You see him yonder--he's laughing now. Come
along, I'll pilot you towards him.'

Suspecting that O'Grady's politeness had some deeper motive than mere
civility, I leaned over his shoulder and asked the reason of it.

'Look here,' said he, showing me the card as he spoke, on which was
written the following words: 'Make the band play "God Save the King ";
the emperor wishes it.'

'Come with us, Jack,' whispered O'Grady; 'we had better keep near the
door.'

I followed them through the dense crowd, who were still cheering with
all their might, and at last reached the end of the table, where Paul
himself was amusing a select party of Tartar chiefs, Prussian colonels,
Irish captains, and Hungarian nobles.

'Look here,' said Phil, showing me the card, which in his passage down
the room he had contrived to alter, by rubbing out the first part and
interpolating a passage of his own; making the whole run thus--

'Sing the "Cruiskeen Lawn"; the emperor wishes it.'

I had scarcely time to thrust my handkerchief to my mouth and prevent an
outbreak of laughter, when I saw the Cossack officer present the card to
Paul with a deep bow. Mr. Rooney read it--surveyed the bearer; read it
again--rubbed his eyes, drew over a branch of wax-candles to inspect
it better, and then, directing a look to the opposite extremity of
the table, exchanged glances with his spouse, as if interrogating her
intentions once more. A quick, sharp nod from Mrs. Paul decided the
question thus tacitly asked; and Paul, clearing off a tumbler of sherry,
muttered to himself, 'What the devil put the "Cruiskeen Lawn" into his
Majesty's head I can't think; but I suppose there's no refusing.*

A very spirited tapping with the handle of his knife was now heard to
mix with the other convivial sounds, and soon indeed to overtop them, as
Paul, anxious to fulfil a royal behest, cleared his throat a couple of
times, and called out, 'I'll do the best I can, your Majesty'; and at
once struck up--

'Let the farmer praise his grounds,
Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
And talk of the deeds they had done;
But I more blest than they----'

Here Paul quavered, and at last the pent-up mirth of the whole room
could endure no more, but burst forth into one continuous shout of
laughter, in which kings, dukes, ambassadors, and field-marshals joined
as loudly as their neighbours. To hear the song was utterly impossibl