a plate in his determined
knocking, he seized upon a bottle and thundered with that until
gradually the tempest subsided and a partial calm succeeded.

"Gentlemen!" he cried, his very peruke seeming to bristle with outraged
decorum, "gentlemen, I move the total suppression of this verse--"
Here his voice was lost in shouts of: "No, no! Let be, Ben! Order!"
"I say," repeated Sir Benjamin, "it must and shall be suppressed!"

"O why, my Ben, why?" queried Alvaston, feeble with mirth.

"Because 'tis altogether too--too natural! Too--ah intensely,
personally intimate----" Here the rafters rang again while drawers,
ostlers and waiting-maids peeped in at slyly-opened doors. Silence
being at last restored Sir Benjamin arose, snuffed daintily, flicked
himself gracefully and bowed:

"Gentlemen," said he, "after the hem! brilliant flights o' fancy we
have been privileged to hear, I allude particularly to Sir Jasper's
soulful strophes and to--to----"

"Alton's gamesome flea?" suggested Alvaston, whereat was laughter with
cries of "Order."

"And to Marchdale's delightful lyric," continued Sir Benjamin. "I do
confess to no small diffidence in offering to your attention my own
hem! I say my own poor compositions and do so in all humility. My
first is a trifle I may describe as an alliterative acrostic, its
matter as followeth."

"Bewitching Bet by bounteous Beauty blessed
Each eager eye's enjoyment is expressed
That thus to thee doth turn then--thrilling thought;
Thou, thou thyself that teach may too be taught,
Yea, you yourself--to yearn as beauty ought."

"I' faith, gentlemen," said he, bowing to their loud applause, "I
humbly venture to think it hath some small ingenuity. My next is a set
of simple verselets pretending to no great depth of soul nor
heart-stirring pathos, they are hem! they are--what they are----"

"Are ye sure o' that, Ben?" demanded Alvaston earnestly.

"Sure sir, yes sir--od's my life, I ought to be--I wrote 'em!"

"Then let's hear 'em and judge. But look'ee, Ben, if they ain't what
they are they won't do--not if you were ten thousand Benjamen!"

Sir Benjamin stared, rubbed his chin, shook his head, sighed and read:

"Venus hath left her Grecian isles
With all her charms and witching wiles
And now all rustic hearts beguiles
In bowery Westerham!

"Ye tender herds, ye listening deer
Forget your food, forget your fear
Our glorious Betty reigneth here