ellamy's; much addicted to stopping
'after the House is up' (an inexpiable crime in Jane's eyes), and a
complete walking reservoir of spirits and water.

The old Peer--or rather, the old man--for his peerage is of comparatively
recent date--has a huge tumbler of hot punch brought him; and the other
damns and drinks, and drinks and damns, and smokes. Members arrive every
moment in a great bustle to report that 'The Chancellor of the
Exchequer's up,' and to get glasses of brandy-and-water to sustain them
during the division; people who have ordered supper, countermand it, and
prepare to go down-stairs, when suddenly a bell is heard to ring with
tremendous violence, and a cry of 'Di-vi-sion!' is heard in the passage.
This is enough; away rush the members pell-mell. The room is cleared in
an instant; the noise rapidly dies away; you hear the creaking of the
last boot on the last stair, and are left alone with the leviathan of
rump-steaks.

CHAPTER XIX--PUBLIC DINNERS

All public dinners in London, from the Lord Mayor's annual banquet at
Guildhall, to the Chimney-sweepers' anniversary at White Conduit House;
from the Goldsmiths' to the Butchers', from the Sheriffs' to the Licensed
Victuallers'; are amusing scenes. Of all entertainments of this
description, however, we think the annual dinner of some public charity
is the most amusing. At a Company's dinner, the people are nearly all
alike--regular old stagers, who make it a matter of business, and a thing
not to be laughed at. At a political dinner, everybody is disagreeable,
and inclined to speechify--much the same thing, by-the-bye; but at a
charity dinner you see people of all sorts, kinds, and descriptions. The
wine may not be remarkably special, to be sure, and we have heard some
hardhearted monsters grumble at the collection; but we really think the
amusement to be derived from the occasion, sufficient to counterbalance
even these disadvantages.

Let us suppose you are induced to attend a dinner of this
description--'Indigent Orphans' Friends' Benevolent Institution,' we
think it is. The name of the charity is a line or two longer, but never
mind the rest. You have a distinct recollection, however, that you
purchased a ticket at the solicitation of some charitable friend: and you
deposit yourself in a hackney-coach, the driver of which--no doubt that
you may do the thing in style--turns a deaf ear to your earnest
entreaties to be set down at the corne