In comes the cock that made
the cock-y-leekie, boiled down in his tough antiquity to a tatter. He
disappears among the progeny, and you are now tied to the steak. You
find there employment sufficient to justify any silence; and hope during
mastication that you have not committed any crime since Christmas, of an
enormity too great to be expiated by condemnation to the sulks.
A Literary Dinner! apparently the remains of the Seven Young Men
sprinkled along both sides of the table--with here and there "a
three-times skimmed sky-blue" interposed; on each side of the Lord of
the Mansion, a philosopher--on each hand of the lady, a poet--somewhere
or other about the board, a Theatrical Star--a Strange Fiddler--an
Outlandish Traveller--and a Spanish Refugee. As Mr. Wordsworth rather
naughtily sayeth,
"All silent, and all damn'd!"
Still the roof does not fall, although the chandelier burns dim in
sympathy,
"And all the air a solemn stillness holds."
Will not a single soul in all this wide world, as he hopes to be saved,
utter so much as one solitary syllable? Oh! what would not the lady and
the gentleman of the house give even for a remark on the weather from
the mouth of poet, philosopher, sage, or hero! Hermetically sealed! Lo!
the author of the very five-guinea quarto, that lay open, in
complimentary exposure, at a plate, up stairs on the drawing-room
table--with his round unmeaning face "breathing tranquillity"--sound
asleep! With eyes fixed on the ceiling, sits at his side the profound
Parent of a Treatise on the Sinking Fund.
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