rmed the practice of dancing.

Mr. Spohf is in bed, but cannot sleep--so great is his
pleasure,--Messrs. Blow and Grumble having patented "Spohf's new
organ-movement."

"A Happy New Year--and may you live to see many of them!"--The New Year
is born with every characteristic of its defunct sire--seeming no better
behaved (as some people would have little boys after a birthday or a
breeching):--the old year died with a drizzle; and the young one, that
everybody hoped promising, is born with the same attributes.

Mr. Brown is at his post again--the parish lamp-post at the corner of
the lane--awaiting the "Favourite" omnibus, that is to bear him to the
City. He is trying to arrange the thousand and one little commissions
he has to execute for Mrs. Brown. How many he remembered or forgot we
know not; but that day he purchased a fair blank Diary--the stationer
who sold it not only wishing him "a Happy New Year," but that he
might "live to fill fifty such:"--a wish that made Mr. Brown very
contemplative--thinking 18,250 entries no joke;--of many bright, bright
days of pleasure; two score and ten of birthdays; half a century of
weddings, anniversaries, and deaths--let us hope of peaceful, happy
deaths,--for clouds will sometimes gather, darkening the brightest sky;
but, thank Heaven, there is plenty of sunshine for those who seek
it--ay, to find it, too, though it be midnight and beside a
kitchen-fire. Of this new Diary the first page is penned with more care
than usual--as all first pages are:--there the De Camp dynasty reign in
confidence; and it is evident that Mr. Brown anticipates a glorious
future.

Young Time, we have often imagined, must be born fledged; for he can fly
quickly as his sire!--It is the 3rd of January--the day prior to Mrs.
Brown's ball.--Thus thought we, wending our way to Victoria Villa;
having promised the Miss Browns to step in and practise the
"_deux-temps_" with them; but, as we have since heard, it is another new
double-shuffle that is turning the brains of the dancing world just
now;--however, we went, and found Victoria in a pretty pickle--a perfect
mixed pickle, we may say,--our dear young friends being much too busy to
remember the appointment:--for there was the "Broadwood" standing upon
the landing; and Master Tom cutting out slides upon the bare boards in
the drawing-room, the carpet being taken to St. Stiff's Union, that it
might be beaten--a thing we exceedingly rejoiced in; for last ye