The dining-room was the breadth of the passage narrower than the front drawing-room, and, as Mr. Jorrocks truly said, was rayther small—­but the table being excessively broad, made the room appear less than it was.  It was lighted up with spermaceti candles in silver holders, one at each corner of the table, and there was a lamp in the wall between the red-curtained windows, immediately below a brass nail, on which Mr. Jorrocks’s great hunting-whip and a bunch of boot garters were hung.  Two more candles in the hands of bronze Dianas on the marble mantelpiece, lighted up a coloured copy of Barraud’s picture of John Warde on Blue Ruin; while Mr. Ralph Lambton, on his horse Undertaker, with his hounds and men, occupied a frame on the opposite wall.  The old-fashioned cellaret sideboard, against the wall at the end, supported a large bright-burning brass lamp, with raised foxes round the rim, whose effulgent rays shed a brilliant halo over eight black hats and two white ones, whereof the four middle ones were decorated with evergreens and foxes’ brushes.  The dinner table was crowded, not covered.  There was scarcely a square inch of cloth to be seen on any part.  In the centre stood a magnificent finely spun barley-sugar windmill, two feet and a half high, with a spacious sugar foundation, with a cart and horses and two or three millers at the door, and a she-miller working a ball-dress flounce at a lower window.

The whole dinner, first, second, third, fourth course —­everything, in fact, except dessert—­was on the table, as we sometimes see it at ordinaries and public dinners.  Before both Mr. and Mrs. Jorrocks were two great tureens of mock-turtle soup, each capable of holding a gallon, and both full up to the brim.  Then there were two sorts of fish; turbot and lobster sauce, and a great salmon.  A round of boiled beef and an immense piece of roast occupied the rear of these, ready to march on the disappearance of the fish and soup—­and behind the walls, formed by the beef of old England, came two dishes of grouse, each dish holding three brace.  The side dishes consisted of a calf’s head hashed, a leg of mutton, chickens, ducks, and mountains of vegetables; and round the windmill were plum-puddings, tarts, jellies, pies, and puffs.

Behind Mrs. Jorrocks’s chair stood “Batsay” with a fine brass-headed comb in her hair, and stiff ringlets down her ruddy cheeks.  She was dressed in a green silk gown, with a coral necklace, and one of Mr. Jorrocks’s lavender and white coloured silk pocket-handkerchiefs made into an apron.  “Binjimin” stood with the door in his hand, as the saying is, with a towel twisted round his thumb, as though he had cut it.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Mr. Jorrocks, casting his eye up the table, as soon as they had all got squeezed and wedged round it, and the dishes were uncovered, “you see your dinner, eat whatever you like except the windmill—­hope you’ll be able to satisfy nature with what’s on—­would have had more but Mrs. J——­ is so werry fine, she won’t stand two joints of the same sort on the table.”