to be good. But Mr. Perkins, who had taken his seat among the
humbler individuals, and in the very middle of the table, observed
that all these persons, after drinking, made to each other very wry
and ominous faces, and whispered much. He tasted his wine: it was
a villanous compound of sugar, vitriol, soda-water, and green
gooseberries. At this moment a great clatter of forks was made by
the president's and vice-president's party. Silence for a
toast--'twas silence all.

"Landlord," said Mr. Perkins, starting up (the rogue, where did his
impudence come from?) "have you any champagne of YOUR OWN?"

"Silence! down!" roared the Tories, the ladies looking aghast.
"Silence, sit down you!" shrieked the well-known voice of the
General.

"I beg your pardon, General," said young John Perkins; "but where
COULD you have bought this champagne? My worthy friend I know is
going to propose the ladies; let us at any rate drink such a toast
in good wine." ("Hear, hear!") "Drink her Ladyship's health in
THIS stuff? I declare to goodness I would sooner drink it in beer!"

No pen can describe the uproar which arose: the anguish of the
Gorgonites--the shrieks, jeers, cheers, ironic cries of "Swipes!"
etc., which proceeded from the less genteel but more enthusiastic
Scullyites.

"This vulgarity is too much," said Lady Gorgon, rising; and Mrs.
Mayoress and the ladies of the party did so too.