his chest with his mamma's parasol, and other
nameless endearments peculiar to infancy, with which he beguiled the
tediousness of the ride, apparently very much to his own satisfaction.

When the unfortunate gentleman arrived at the Swan, he found to his great
dismay, that it was a quarter past five. The white house, the stables,
the 'Beware of the Dog,'--every landmark was passed, with a rapidity not
unusual to a gentleman of a certain age when too late for dinner. After
the lapse of a few minutes, Mr. Minns found himself opposite a yellow
brick house with a green door, brass knocker, and door-plate, green
window-frames and ditto railings, with 'a garden' in front, that is to
say, a small loose bit of gravelled ground, with one round and two
scalene triangular beds, containing a fir-tree, twenty or thirty bulbs,
and an unlimited number of marigolds. The taste of Mr. and Mrs. Budden
was further displayed by the appearance of a Cupid on each side of the
door, perched upon a heap of large chalk flints, variegated with pink
conch-shells. His knock at the door was answered by a stumpy boy, in
drab livery, cotton stockings and high-lows, who, after hanging his hat
on one of the dozen brass pegs which ornamented the passage, denominated
by courtesy 'The Hall,' ushered him into a front drawing-room commanding
a very extensive view of the backs of the neighbouring houses. The usual
ceremony of introduction, and so forth, over, Mr. Minns took his seat:
not a little agitated at finding that he was the last comer, and, somehow
or other, the Lion of about a dozen people, sitting together in a small
drawing-room, getting rid of that most tedious of all time, the time
preceding dinner.

'Well, Brogson,' said Budden, addressing an elderly gentleman in a black
coat, drab knee-breeches, and long gaiters, who, under pretence of
inspecting the prints in an Annual, had been engaged in satisfying
himself on the subject of Mr. Minns's general appearance, by looking at
him over the tops of the leaves--'Well, Brogson, what do ministers mean
to do? Will they go out, or what?'

'Oh--why--really, you know, I'm the last person in the world to ask for
news. Your cousin, from his situation, is the most likely person to
answer the question.'

Mr. Minns assured the last speaker, that although he was in
Somerset-house, he possessed no official communication relative to the
projects of his Majesty's Ministers. But his remark was evidently
r