'Wagley,' said he, to my introducer, 'if no better engagement, why shouldn't self and friend dine at the "Oval ?" Mr.Snob, sir, the mutton's coming off the spit at this very minute.

Laura and Mrs.Chuff' (he said LAURAR and Mrs.Chuff; but I hate people who make remarks on these peculiarities of pronunciation,) 'will be most happy to see you; and I can promise you a hearty welcome, and as good a glass of port-wine as any in England.' 'This is better than dining at the "Sarcophagus,"' thinks I to myself, at which Club Wagley and I had intended to take our meal; and so we accepted the kindly invitation, whence arose afterwards a considerable intimacy.
Everything about this family and house was so good-natured, comfortable, and well-conditioned, that a cynic would have ceased to growl there.
Mrs.Laura was all graciousness and smiles, and looked to as great advantage in her pretty morning-gown as in her dress-robe at Mrs.
Perkins's.

Mrs.Chuff fired off her stories about the 'Nebuchadnezzar,' 74, the action between the 'Pitchfork' and the 'Furibonde'-- the heroic resistance of Captain Choufleur, and the quantity of snuff he took, &c.
&c.; which, as they were heard for the first time, were pleasanter than I have subsequently found them.

Sackville Maine was the best of hosts.
He agreed in everything everybody said, altering his opinions without the slightest reservation upon the slightest possible contradiction.
He was not one of those beings who would emulate a Schonbein or Friar Bacon, or act the part of an incendiary towards the Thames, his neighbour--but a good, kind, simple, honest, easy fellow--in love with his wife--well disposed to all the world--content with himself, content even with his mother-in-law.

Nelson Collingwood, I remember, in the course of the evening, when whisky-and-water was for some reason produced, grew a little tipsy.