Their hands fell; they drew back a pace, and the wit made himself spokesman.

Roses were rare so early in the year; for him and his companions, they had but wished to compliment those that bloomed in the cheeks of the pretty Quakeress.

This servant fellow, breathing fire like a dragon, had taken it upon himself to defend the roses,--which likely enough were grown for him,--and so had been about to bring upon himself merited chastisement.

However, since it was Mr.Marmaduke Haward who pleaded for him--A full stop, a low bow, and a flourish.

"Will Mr.
Haward honor me?
'Tis right Macouba, and the box--if the author of 'The Puppet Show' would deign to accept it"-- "Rather to change with you, sir," said the other urbanely, and drew out his own chased and medallioned box.
The gentleman upon the floor had now gotten unsteadily to his feet.