In the evening, at General Belch’s, Abel was presented to all the guests.  Mr. Ele was happy to remember a previous occasion upon which he had had the honor, etc.  Mr. Enos Slugby (Chairman of our Ward Committee, whispered Belch, audibly, as he introduced him) was very glad to know a gentleman who bore so distinguished a name.  Every body had a little compliment, to which Abel bowed and smiled politely, while he observed that the residence was much more comfortable than the office of General Belch.

They went into the dining-room and sat down to what Mr. Slugby called “a Champagne supper.”  They ate birds and oysters, and drank wine.  Then they ate jellies, blanc mange, and ice-cream.  Then they ate nuts and fruit, and drank coffee.  Then every thing was removed, and fresh decanters, fresh glasses, and a box of cigars were placed upon the table, and the servants were told that they need not come until summoned.

At this point a dry, grave, thin, little old man opened the door.  General Belch rose and rushed forward.

“My dear Mr. Bat, I am very happy.  Sit here, Sir.  Gentlemen, you all know Mr. Bat.”

The company was silent for a moment, and bowed.  Abel looked up and saw a man who seemed to be made of parchment, and his complexion, of the hue of dried apples, suggested that he was usually kept in a warm green satchel.

After a little more murmuring of talk around the table, General Belch said, in a louder voice,

“Gentlemen, we have a new friend among us, and a little business to settle to-night.  Suppose we talk it over.”

There was a general filling of glasses and a hum of assent.

“I learn,” said the General, whiffing the smoke from his mouth, “that our worthy friend and able representative, Watkins Bodley, is about resigning, in consequence of private embarrassments.  Of course he must have a successor.”

Every body poured out smoke and looked at the speaker, except Mr. Bat, who seemed to be undergoing a little more drying up, and looked at a picture of General Jackson, which hung upon the wall.

“That successor, I need not say, of course,” continued General Belch, “must be a good man and a faithful adherent of the party.  He must be the consistent enemy of a purse-proud aristocracy.”

“He must, indeed,” said Mr. Enos Slugby, whisking a little of the ash from his cigar off an embroidered shirt-bosom, in doing which the flash from a diamond ring upon his finger dazzled Abel, who had turned as he spoke.

“He must espouse the immortal cause of popular rights, and be willing to spend and be spent for the people.”

“That’s it,” said Mr. William Condor, whose sinecure under government was not worth less than twenty thousand a year.

“He must always uphold the honor of the glorious flag of our country.”

“Excuse me, General Belch, but I can not control my feelings; I must propose three cheers,” interrupted Alderman MacDennis O’Rourke; and the three cheers were heartily given.