nd no society among the
two-legged brutes, I turned to the quadrupeds. At one corner of the room
lay a black terrier of the true English breed; at another was a short,
sturdy, wirey one, of the Scotch. I soon formed a friendship with each
of these canine Pelei, (little bodies with great souls), and then by
degrees alluring them from their retreat to the centre of the room,
I fairly endeavoured to set them by the ears. Thanks to the national
antipathy, I succeeded to my heart's content. The contest soon aroused
the other individuals of the genus--up they started from their repose,
like Roderic Dhu's merry men, and incontinently flocked to the scene of
battle.

"To it," said I; and I took one by the leg and another by the
throat, and dashing them against each other, turned all their peevish
irascibility at the affront into mutual aggression. In a very few
moments, the whole room was a scene of uproarious confusion; the beasts
yelled, and bit, and struggled with the most delectable ferocity. To
add to the effect, the various owners of the dogs crowded round--some
to stimulate, others to appease the fury of the combatants. As for me, I
flung myself into an arm chair, and gave way to an excess of merriment,
which only enraged the spectators more: many were the glances of anger,
many the murmurs of reproach directed against me. Lord Chester himself
eyed me with an air of astonished indignation, that redoubled my
hilarity: at length, the conflict was assuaged--by dint of blows, and
kicks, and remonstrances from their dignified proprietors, the dogs
slowly withdrew, one with the loss of half an ear, another with a
shoulder put out, a third with a mouth increased by one-half of its
natural dimensions.

In short, every one engaged in the conflict bore some token of its
severity. I did not wait for the thunder-storm I foresaw: I rose with
a nonchalant yaw n of ennui--marched out of the apartment, called a
servant--demanded my own room--repaired to it, and immersed the internal
faculties of my head in Mignet's History of the Revolution, while Bedos
busied himself in its outward embellishment.

CHAPTER LXII.

Noster ludos, spectaverat una, Luserat in campo, Fortunae filius omnes.
--Horace.

I did not leave my room till the first dinner-bell had ceased a
sufficient time to allow me the pleasing hope that I should have but a
few moments to wait in the drawing-room, previous to the grand epoch
and ceremony of an European d