“Indeed! Then, ladies, it will be the greater novelty. Come, my good sir; but first a glass of wine with you.”
“Oh, Mr. Timwiddy, you will make Mr. Muff quite top-heavy! It must only be a half a glass,” said Mrs. Muff, authoritatively.
“The top half, if you please, madam,” said the middle-aged gentleman; and he poured out the “regal purple stream” till it kissed, without flowing over, the brim. Mr. Muff brought the bumper to a level with his lips, and, as if half ashamed of what he was doing, put both halves out of sight!
“Is the man mad?” cried the amazed Mrs. Muff.
“Has he lost his senses?” ejaculated the bewildered Mrs. Flumgarten.
“He has found them, rather,” whispered the satirical-nosed gentleman.
The bland looks and persuasive tones of Uncle Timothy, to say nothing of the last bumper, had wrought wonders on the master-mason. He looked Silenus-like and rosy, and glanced his little peering eyes across the table—Mrs. Muff having a voice too in the affair—for an assenting nod from the fierce black velvet turban of his better and bigger half. But Mrs. Muff made no sign, and he paused irresolute; when another kind word from the middle-aged gentleman encouraged him, at all hazards, to begin with,
Doctor Pott lived up one pair,
And reach'd his room by a comical stair!
Like all M.D's,