The business of the night, which my entrance had interrupted, was now resumed; and the chairman, whom I shall call Arden, striking his hammer upon a small mahogany box which was placed before him on the table, requested silence.  Before I permit him to speak, I must give my readers a pen-and-ink sketch of his person.  He was rather tall and erect in his person—­his head was finely formed—­and he had a quick grey eye, which would have given an unpleasant sharpness to his features, had it not been softened by the benevolent smile which played around his mouth.  In his attire he was somewhat formal, and he affected an antiquated style in the fashion of his dress.  When he spoke, his words fell with measured precision from his lips; but the mellow tone of his voice, and a certain courteous empressement in his manner, at once interested me in his favour; and I set him down in my mind as a gentleman of the old English school.  How far I was right in my conjecture my readers will hereafter have an opportunity of determining.

“Our new member,” said the chairman, turning towards me, “should now be informed that we have amongst us some individuals who possess a taste for literary pursuits.”

“A very small taste,” whispered a droll-looking ‘Puff,’ with a particularly florid nose, who was sitting on my right hand, and who appeared to be watching all the evening for opportunities of letting off his jokes, which were always applauded longest and loudest by himself.  My comical neighbour’s name, I afterwards learned, was Bayles; he was the licensed jester of the club; he had been a punster from his youth; and it was his chief boast that he had joked himself into the best society and out of the largest fortune of any individual in the three kingdoms.

This incorrigible wag having broken the thread of the chairman’s speech, I shall only add the substance of it.  It was, that the literary members of the “Puffs” had agreed to contribute from time to time articles in prose and verse; tales, legends, and sketches of life and manners—­all which contributions were deposited in the mahogany box on the table; and from this literary fund a paper was extracted by the chairman on one of the nights of meeting in each week, and read by him aloud to the club.

These manuscripts, I need scarcely say, will form the series of THE PUFF PAPERS, which, for the special information of the thousands of the fair sex who will peruse them, are like the best black teas, strongly recommended for their fine curling leaf.

The first paper drawn by the chairman was an Irish Tale; which, after a humorous protest by Mr. Bayles against the introduction of foreign extremities, was ordered to be read.

The candles being snuffed, and the chairman’s spectacles adjusted to the proper focus, he commenced as follows:—­

THE GIANT’S STAIRS.

A LEGEND OF THE SOUTH OF IRELAND.