A single, but very resolute knock at the street door, sounding quite through the house, stopped all further ebullition, and Benjamin, slipping out, held a short conversation with someone in the street, and returned.

“What’s happened now, Binjimin?” inquired Mr. Jorrocks, with anxiety on his countenance, as the boy re-entered the room; “the ’osses arn’t amiss, I ’ope?”

“Please, sir, Mr. Farrell’s young man has come for the windmill—­he says you’ve had it two hours,” replied Benjamin.

“The deuce be with Mr. Farrell’s young man! he does not suppose we can part with the mill before the cloth’s drawn—­tell him to mizzle, or I’ll mill him.  ‘Now’s the day and now’s the hour’; who’s for some grouse?  Gentlemen, make your game, in fact.  But first of all let’s have a round robin.  Pass the wine, gentlemen.  What wine do you take, Stubbs.”

“Why, champagne is good enough for me.”

Mr. Jorrocks, I dare say; but if you wait till you get any here, you will have a long time to stop.  Shampain, indeed! had enough of that nonsense abroad—­declare you young chaps drink shampain like hale.  There’s red and wite port, and sherry, in fact, and them as carn’t drink, they must go without.

  X. was expensive and soon became poor,
  Y. was the wise man and kept want from the door.

“Now for the grouse!” added he, as the two beefs disappeared, and they took their stations at the top and bottom of the table.  “Fine birds, to be sure!  Hope you havn’t burked your appetites, gentlemen, so as not to be able to do justice to them—­smell high—­werry good—­gamey, in fact.  Binjimin. take an ’ot plate to Mr. Nimrod—­sarve us all round with them.”

The grouse being excellent, and cooked to a turn, little execution was done upon the pastry, and the jellies had all melted long before it came to their turn to be eat.  At length everyone, Mr. Jorrocks and all, appeared satisfied, and the noise of knives and forks was succeeded by the din of tongues and the ringing of glasses, as the eaters refreshed themselves with wine or malt liquors.  Cheese and biscuit being handed about on plates, according to the Spirit of Etiquette.  Binjimin and Batsay at length cleared the table, lifted off the windmill, and removed the cloth.  Mr. Jorrocks then delivered himself of a most emphatic grace.

The wine and dessert being placed on the table, the ceremony of drinking healths all round was performed.  “Your good health, Mrs. J——.—­Belinda, my loove, your good health—­wish you a good ’usband.—­Nimrod, your good health.—­James Green, your good health.—­Old verd antique’s good health.—­Your uncle’s good health.—­All the Green family.—­Stubbs, your good health.—­Spiers, Crane, etc.”  The bottles then pass round three times, on each of which occasions Mrs. Jorrocks makes them pay toll.  The fourth time she let them pass; and Jorrocks began to grunt, hem, and haw, and kick the leg of the table, by way of giving her a hint to depart.  This caused a dead silence, which at length was broken by the Yorkshireman’s exclaiming “horrid pause!”