an equally fair plea in both cases,' replied Nicholas;
'but if you put it upon that ground, I have nothing more to say, than,
that if I were a writer of books, and you a thirsty dramatist, I would
rather pay your tavern score for six months, large as it might be, than
have a niche in the Temple of Fame with you for the humblest corner of
my pedestal, through six hundred generations.'

The conversation threatened to take a somewhat angry tone when it had
arrived thus far, but Mrs Crummles opportunely interposed to prevent
its leading to any violent outbreak, by making some inquiries of the
literary gentleman relative to the plots of the six new pieces which he
had written by contract to introduce the African Knife-swallower in
his various unrivalled performances. This speedily engaged him in an
animated conversation with that lady, in the interest of which, all
recollection of his recent discussion with Nicholas very quickly
evaporated.

The board being now clear of the more substantial articles of food,
and punch, wine, and spirits being placed upon it and handed about, the
guests, who had been previously conversing in little groups of three
or four, gradually fell off into a dead silence, while the majority of
those present glanced from time to time at Mr Snittle Timberry, and
the bolder spirits did not even hesitate to strike the table with their
knuckles, and plainly intimate their expectations, by uttering such
encouragements as 'Now, Tim,' 'Wake up, Mr Chairman,' 'All charged, sir,
and waiting for a toast,' and so forth.

To these remonstrances Mr Timberry deigned no other rejoinder than
striking his chest and gasping for breath, and giving many other
indications of being still the victim of indisposition--for a man
must not make himself too cheap either on the stage or off--while
Mr Crummles, who knew full well that he would be the subject of the
forthcoming toast, sat gracefully in his chair with his arm thrown
carelessly over the back, and now and then lifted his glass to his mouth
and drank a little punch, with the same air with which he was accustomed
to take long draughts of nothing, out of the pasteboard goblets in
banquet scenes.

At length Mr Snittle Timberry rose in the most approved attitude, with
one hand in the breast of his waistcoat and the other on the nearest
snuff-box, and having been received with great enthusiasm, proposed,
with abundance of quotations, his friend Mr Vincent Crummles: endin