through every assize
town in the country, three times a year, and allow it to be dragged
ruthlessly through the streets of the metropolis at all times and
seasons. Now come back to breakfast, for I won't wait here any
longer." Seeing that these were the ideas of Felix Graham, it is
hardly a matter of wonder that such men as Mr. Furnival and Mr. Round
should have regarded his success at the bar as doubtful.

"Uncommon bad mutton chops these are," said Staveley, as they sat at
their meal in the coffee-room of the Imperial Hotel.

"Are they?" said Graham. "They seem to me much the same as other
mutton chops."

"They are uneatable. And look at this for coffee! Waiter, take this
away, and have some made fresh."

"Yes, sir," said the waiter, striving to escape without further
comment.

"And waiter--"

"Yes, sir;" and the poor overdriven functionary returned.

"Ask them from me whether they know how to make coffee. It does not
consist of an unlimited supply of lukewarm water poured over an
infinitesimal proportion of chicory. That process, time-honoured in
the hotel line, will not produce the beverage called coffee. Will you
have the goodness to explain that in the bar as coming from me?"

"Yes, sir," said the waiter; and then he was allowed to disappear.

"How can you give yourself so much trouble with no possible hope of
an advantageous result?" said Felix Graham.

"That's what you weak men always say. Perseverance in such a course
will produce results. It is because we put up with bad things that
hotel-keepers continue to give them to us. Three or four Frenchmen
were dining with my father yesterday at the King's Head, and I had to
sit at the bottom of the table. I declare to you that I literally
blushed for my country; I did indeed. It was useless to say anything
then, but it was quite clear that there was nothing that one of them
could eat. At any hotel in France you'll get a good dinner; but we're
so proud that we are ashamed to take lessons." And thus Augustus
Staveley was quite as loud against his own country, and as laudatory
with regard to others, as Felix Graham had been before breakfast.

And so the congress went on at Birmingham. The fat Italian from
Tuscany read his paper; but as he, though judge in his own country
and reformer here in England, was somewhat given to comedy, this
morning was not so dull as that which had been devoted to Von Bauhr.
After him Judge Staveley made a very elegant, and some