They thus spent ten minutes in pleasant conversation, complimenting one another, evidently not a little pleased with themselves, and resolved not to leave the settling of their preeminent prowess to any one else. Indeed, the scene enacted between the mayor and the major would have become extremely affecting but for Alderman O’Toole, who, being a man of much understanding, proposed that they seal their friendship with a little brandy and water. Neither having any scruples in the matter, they filled their glasses with much pomp and circumstance. “And now, gentlemen,” said Mr. Alderman O’Toole, “I propose the health of your honors together; for barring General Pierce, greater men never lived, as myself knows.” They bowed and emptied their glasses to this toast, at which several of those present were not a little amused. The mayor, who was, with his many other traits of character, sufficiently versed in strategy to extricate himself from any snare, said he felt constrained to say a few words in return for the compliment, and was about making a speech on the spot. Happily a waiter entered at the moment, bearing in his hand a plate of cold chicken, which so excited Don Fernando’s appetite that he thought no more of his dignity, but seized upon the best meated leg, and holding it daintily between his fingers, and applying his teeth, never stopped until he had stripped it clean to the bone. And while engaged in this laudable enterprise, they were surprised by a band of musicians in the street, playing “Hail to the Chief.” The night was dark, and on looking out of the window, it was discovered that the musicians were some twenty grim looking Germans, with very long beards and longer brass instruments, with which they seemed determined to perforate ten ragged newsboys, who, with the picture of rascality written on their mischievous faces, stood holding as many pitiful tallow candles almost under the noses of the windy fellows, whose eyes were on their notes. When the band ceased playing, the throng cheered and kept up a loud calling for the major, who, the mayor said, must go out and make a speech, for it would not do to offend them by keeping silent. He also deemed it prudent to caution the major against saying what he really thought. In truth, he whispered in the major’s ear that he must mind and strike the popular point; and when touching upon anything of great moment, be careful to so construct his sentences that they embody a double meaning. As to promises, he must be sure to make enough of them, only let it be on the principle that promises are always expected to take care of themselves. When the major had listened sufficiently to the admonitions of the mayor, he repaired to the balcony, where he was so surprised to find several ladies, dressed with great taste and splendor, that his modesty became much taxed, though they saluted him with becoming courtesy. The crowd outside, which was now rampant of disorder, recognized in the short, corpulent figure before them, with the red hair standing erect upon a turnip-like head, the man of their wish, whom they greeted with three deafening cheers. The major bowed and spread his hands, in the left of which he held the engrossing emblem of his dignity, his three cornered hat.