appearing uncovered, was achieved with more force than propriety, by Mr. Brown Bunkem’s nearly displacing several of the inspector’s front teeth, by a blow from his violently-hurled hat at the head of that respectable functionary.

What would have followed, it is impossible to say; but at this moment Mr. Adolphus Casay’s bail was accepted, he being duly bound down, in the sum of twenty pounds, to produce Mr. Brown Bunkem at the magistrate’s office by eleven o’clock of the following forenoon. This being settled, in spite of a vigorous opposition, with the assistance of five half-crowns, four policemen, the driver of, and hackney-coach No. 3141, Mr. Brown Bunkem was conveyed to his own proper lodgings, and there left, with one boot and a splitting headache, to do duty for a counterpane, he vehemently opposing every attempt to make him a deposit between the sheets.—Seven o’clock on the following morning found Mr. Adolphus Casay at the bedside of the violently-snoring and stupidly obfuscated Brown Bunkem. In vain he pinched, shook, shouted, and swore; inarticulate grunts and apoplectic denunciations against the disturber of his rest were the only answers to his urgent appeals as to the necessity of Mr. Brown Bunkem’s getting ready to appear before the magistrate. Visions of contempt of court, forfeited bail, and consequent disbursements, flitted before the mind of the agitated Mr. Adolphus Casay. Ten o’clock came; Bunken seemed to snore the louder and sleep the sounder. What was to be done? why, nothing but to get up an impromptu influenza, and try his rhetoric on the presiding magistrates of the bench.

Influenced by this determination, Mr. Adolphus Casay started for that den of thieves and magistrates in the neighbourhood of Bow-street; but Mr. Adolphus Casay’s feelings were anything but enviable; though by no means a straitlaced man, he had an instinctive abhorrence of anything that appeared a blackguard transaction. Nothing but a kind wish to serve a friend would have induced him to appear within a mile of such a wretched place; but the thing was now unavoidable, so he put the best face he could on the matter, made his way to the clerk of the Court, and there, in a low whisper, began his explanation, that being “how Mr. Brown Bunkem”—at this moment the crier shouted—

“Bunkem! Where’s Bunkem?”

“I am here!” said Mr. Adolphus Casay; “here to”—

“Step inside, Bunkem,” shouted a sturdy auxiliary; and with considerable manual exertion and remarkable agility, he gave the unfortunate Adolphus a peculiar twist that at once deposited him behind the bar and before the bench.

“I beg to state,” commenced the agitated and innocent Adolphus.

“Silence, prisoner!” roared the crier.

“Will you allow me to say,”—again commenced Adolphus—

“Hold your tongue!” vociferated P74.

“I must and will be heard.”

“Young man,” said the magistrate, laying down the paper, “you are doing yourself no good; be quiet. Clerk, read the charge.”

After some piano mumbling, the words “drunk—abusive—disorderly—incapable—taking care of self—stretcher—station-house—bail,” were shouted out in the most fortissimo manner.

At the end of the reading, all eyes were directed to the well-dressed and gentlemanly-looking Adolphus. He appeared to excite universal sympathy.

“What have you to say, young man?”

“Why, your worship, the charge is true; but”—

“Oh! never mind your buts. Will you ever appear in the same situation again?”

“Upon my soul I won’t; but”—

“There, then, that will do; I like your sincerity, but don’t swear. Pay one shilling, and you are discharged.”

“Will your worship allow me”—

“I have no time, sir. Next case.”

“But I must explain.”

“Next case. Hold your jaw!—this way!”—and the same individual who had jerked Mr. Adolphus Casay into the dock, rejerked him into the middle of the court. The shilling was paid, and, amid the laughter of the idlers at his anti-teetotal habits, he made the best of his way from the scene of his humiliation. As he rushed round the corner of the street, a peal of laughter struck upon his ears, and there, in full feather, as sober as ever, stood Mr. Brown Bunkem, enjoying the joke beyond all measure. Indignation took possession of Mr. Adolphus Casay’s bosom; he demanded to know the cause of this strange conduct, stating that his character was for ever compromised.

“Not at all,” coolly rejoined the unmoved Bunkem; “we are all subject to accidents. You certainly were in a scrape, but I think none the worse of you; and, if it’s any satisfaction, you may say it was me.”

“Say it was you! Why it was.”

“Capital, upon my life! do you hear him, Smith, how well he takes a cue? but stick to it, old fellow, I don’t think you’ll be believed; but—say it was me.”

Mr. Brown Bunkem was perfectly right. Mr. Adolphus Casay was not believed; for some time he told the story as it really was, but to no purpose. The indefatigable Brown was always appealed to by mutual friends, his answer invariably was—

“Why, Casay’s a steady fellow, I am not; it might injure him. I defy report; therefore I gave him leave to—say it was me!”

And that was all the thanks Mr. Adolphus Casay ever got for bailing friend.

FUSBOS

THE POLITICAL EUCLID.

WHEREIN ARE CONSIDERED

THE RELATIONS OF PLACE;

OR

THE BEST MODE OF

GETTING A PLACE FOR YOUR RELATIONS:

Being a complete Guide to the Art of

LEGISLATIVE MENSURATION,

OR,

How to estimate the value of a Vote upon

WHIG AND TORY MEASURES.

THE WHOLE ADAPTED TO

THE USE OF HONOURABLE MEMBERS.

BY

LORD PALMERSTON,

Late Professor of Toryism, but now Lecturer on Whiggery to the College of St. Stephen’s.

BOOK I.—DEFINITIONS.

A point in politics is that which always has place (in view,) but no particular party.

A line in politics is interest without principle.

The extremities of a line are loaves and fishes.

A right line is that which lies evenly between the Ministerial and Opposition benches.

A superficies is that which professes to have principle, but has no consistency.

The extremities of a superficies are expediencies.

A plain superficies is that of which two opposite speeches being taken, the line between them evidently lies wholly in the direction of Downing-street.

A plain angle is the evident inclination, and consequent piscation, of a member for a certain place; or it is the meeting together of two members who are not in the same line of politics.

When a member sits on the cross benches, and shows no particular inclination to one side or the other, it is called a right angle.

An obtuse angle is that in which the inclination is evidently to the Treasury.

An acute angle is that in which the inclination is apparently to the Opposition benches.

A boundary is the extremity or whipper-in of any party.

A party is that which is kept together by one or more whippers-in.

A circular member is a rum figure, produced by turning round; and is such that all lines of politics centre in himself, and are the same to him.

The diameter of a circular member is a line drawn on the Treasury, and terminating in both pockets.

Trilateral members, or waverers, are those