urkish politics. We dined with
our fingers, and had flaps of bread for plates; the only innovation
he admitted was the use of European liquors, in which he indulged with
great gusto. He was an enormous eater. Amongst the dishes a very large
one was placed before him of a lamb dressed in its wool, stuffed with
prunes, garlic, assafoetida, capsicums, and other condiments, the most
abominable mixture that ever mortal smelt or tasted. The Galeongee ate
of this hugely; and pursuing the Eastern fashion, insisted on helping
his friends right and left, and when he came to a particularly spicy
morsel, would push it with his own hands into his guests' very mouths.

I never shall forget the look of poor Diddloff, when his Excellency,
rolling up a large quantity of this into a ball and exclaiming, 'Buk
Buk' (it is very good), administered the horrible bolus to Diddloff. The
Russian's eyes rolled dreadfully as he received it: he swallowed it with
a grimace that I thought must precede a convulsion, and seizing a bottle
next him, which he thought was Sauterne, but which turned out to be
French brandy, he drank off nearly a pint before he know his error. It
finished him; he was carried away from the dining-room almost dead, and
laid out to cool in a summer-house on the Bosphorus.

When it came to my turn, I took down the condiment with a smile, said
'Bismillah,' licked my lips with easy gratification, and when the next
dish was served, made up a ball myself so dexterously, and popped it
down the old Galeongee's mouth with so much grace, that his heart was
won. Russia was put out of court at once and THE TREATY of Kabobanople
WAS SIGNED. As for Diddloff, all was over with HIM: he was recalled to
St. Petersburg, and Sir Roderick Murchison saw him, under the No. 3967,
working in the Ural mines.

The moral of this tale, I need not say, is, that there are many
disagreeable things in society which you are bound to take down, and to
do so with a smiling face.

CHAPTER II--THE SNOB ROYAL

Long since at the commencement of the reign of her present Gracious
Majesty, it chanced 'on a fair summer evening,' as Mr. James would say,
that three or four young cavaliers were drinking a cup of wine after
dinner at the hostelry called the 'King's Arms,' kept by Mistress
Anderson, in the royal village of Kensington. 'Twas a balmy evening,
and the wayfarers looked out on a cheerful scene. The tall elms of
the ancient gardens were in full leaf, and