As the enthusiasm in Count Smorltork's favour ran very high, his

praises might have been sung until the end of the festivities, if the

four something-ean singers had not ranged themselves in front of a

small apple-tree, to look picturesque, and commenced singing their

national songs, which appeared by no means difficult of execution,

inasmuch as the grand secret seemed to be, that three of the

something-ean singers should grunt, while the fourth howled. This

interesting performance having concluded amidst the loud plaudits of

the whole company, a boy forthwith proceeded to entangle himself

with the rails of a chair, and to jump over it, and crawl under it, and

fall down with it, and do everything but sit upon it, and then to make

a cravat of his legs, and tie them round his neck, and then to

illustrate the ease with which a human being can be made to look like

a magnified toad - all which feats yielded high delight and satisfaction

to the assembled spectators. After which, the voice of Mrs. Pott was

heard to chirp faintly forth, something which courtesy interpreted into

a song, which was all very classical, and strictly in character, because

Apollo was himself a composer, and composers can very seldom sing

their own music or anybody else's, either. This was succeeded by Mrs.

Leo Hunter's recitation of her far-famed 'Ode to an Expiring Frog,'

which was encored once, and would have been encored twice, if the

major part of the guests, who thought it was high time to get

something to eat, had not said that it was perfectly shameful to take

advantage of Mrs. Hunter's good nature. So although Mrs. Leo Hunter

professed her perfect willingness to recite the ode again, her kind and

considerate friends wouldn't hear of it on any account; and the

refreshment room being thrown open, all the people who had ever

been there before, scrambled in with all possible despatch - Mrs. Leo

Hunter's usual course of proceedings being, to issue cards for a

hundred, and breakfast for fifty, or in other words to feed only the

very particular lions, and let the smaller animals take care of

themselves.

Where is Mr Pott?' said Mrs. Leo Hunter, as she placed the aforesaid

lions around her.

Here I am,' said the editor, from the remotest end of the room; far

beyond all hope of food, unless something was done for him by the

hostess.

Won't you come up here?'

Oh, pray don't mind him,' said Mrs. Pott, in the most obliging voice -

you give yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble, Mrs. Hunter.

You'll do very well there, won't you - dear?'

Certainly - love,' replied the unhappy Pott, with a grim smile. Alas for

the knout! The nervous arm that wielded it, with such a gigantic force

The Pickwick Papers