pie. The activity of the omelette emotion is here not abated; the result to which it would lead, is merely modified.

It would be tedious to detail the successive steps of my inquiries, until I had at last ascertained distinctly that the power of the eating faculties is, cæteris paribus, in proportion to the size of those compartments in the stomach by which they are manifested. I propose at a future time to explain my system more fully, and shall conclude my present lecture by giving a list of the organs into which I have classified the stomach, according to my most careful observations.

• CLASS I.—SUSTAINING FACULTIES.
  1. —Bread (French rolls).
  2. —Water (doubtful).
  3. —Beef (including rump-steaks).
  4. —Mutton (legs thereof).
  5. —Veal (stuffed fillet of the same).
  6. —Bacon (including pork-chops and sausages).
• CLASS II.—SENTIMENTS OR AFFECTIONS.
  1. —Fowl.
  2. —Fish.
  3. —Game.
  4. —Soup.
  5. —Plum-pudding.
  6. —Pastry.
• CLASS III.—SUPERIOR SENTIMENTS.
  1. —Sauces.
  2. —Fruit.
• CLASS IV.—INTELLECTUAL TASTES.
  1. —Olives.
  2. —Caviare.
  3. —Turtle.
  4. —Curries.
  5. —Gruyère Cheese.
  6. —French Wines.
  7. —Italian Salads.
  8. — ——

Of the last organ I have not been able to discover the function; it is probably miscellaneous, and disposes of all that is not included in the others.

FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE.

(By the Reporter of the Court Journal.)

Yesterday Paddy Green, Esq. gave a grand déjeuner à la fourchette to a distinguished party of friends, at his house in Vere-street. Amongst the guests we noticed Charles Mears, J.M., Mister Jim Connell, Bill Paul, Deaf Burke, Esq., Jerry Donovan, M.P.R., Herr Von Joel, &c. &c. Mister Jim Connell and Jerry Donovan went the “odd man” who should stand glasses round. The favourite game of shove-halfpenny was kept up till a late hour, when the party broke up highly delighted.

A great party mustered on Friday last, in the New Cut, to hear Mr. Briggles chant a new song, written on the occasion of the birth of the young Prince. He was accompanied by his friend Mr. Handel Purcell Mozart Muggins on the drum and mouth-organ, who afterwards went round with his hat.

On Friday the lady of Paddy Green paid a morning call to Clare Market, at the celebrated tripe shop; she purchased two slices of canine comestibles which she carried home on a skewer.

Mrs. Paddy Green on Wednesday visited Mrs. Joel, to take tea. She indulged in two crumpets and a dash of rum in the congou. It is confidently reported that on Wednesday next Mrs. Joel will pay a visit to Mrs. G. at her residence in Vere-street, to supper; after which Mr. Paddy Green will leave for his seat in Maiden-lane.

Jeremiah Donovan, it is stated, is negotiating for the three-pair back room in Surrey, late the residence of Charles Mears, J.M.

FROM THE LONDON GAZETTE, Nov. 16th.

PROMOTIONS.—POST OFFICE.

• 1st Body of General Postmen—Timothy Sneak, to Broad-street bell and bag, vice Jabez Broadfoot, who retires into the chandlery line.
• 1st Body of General Postmen—Horatio Squint to Lincoln’s-Inn bell and bag, vice Timothy Sneak.
• 1st Body of General Postmen—Felix Armstrong to Bedford-square bell and bag, vice Horatio Squint.
• 1st Body of General Postmen—Josiah Claypole (from the body of letter-sorters) to Tottenham-Court-road bell and bag, vice Felix Armstrong. N.B. This deserving young man is indebted to his promotion for detecting a brother letter-sorter appropriating the contents of a penny letter to his own uses, at the precise time that the said Josiah Claypole had his eye on it, for reasons best known to himself. The twopenny-postmen are highly incensed at this unheard-of and unprecedented passing them over; and great fears are entertained of their resignation.

FRENCH LIVING.

“Pa,” said an interesting little Polyglot, down in the West, with his French Rudiments before him, “why should one egg be sufficient for a dozen men’s breakfasts?”—“Can’t say, child.”—“Because un œuf—is as good as a feast.”—“Stop that boy’s grub, mother, and save it at once; he’s too clever to live much longer.”

HINTS ON POPPING THE QUESTION.

If you call on the “loved one,” and observe that she blushes when you approach, give her hand a gentle squeeze, and if she returns it, consider it “all right”—get the parents out of the room, sit down on the sofa beside the “must adorable of her sex”—talk of the joys of wedded life. If she appears pleased, rise, seem excited, and at once ask her to say the important, the life-or-death-deciding, the suicide-or-happiness-settling question. If she pulls out her cambric, be assured you are accepted. Call her “My darling Fanny!”—“My own dear creature!”—and a few such-like names, and this completes the scene. Ask her to name the day, and fancy yourself already in Heaven.

A good plan is to call on the “object of your affections” in the forenoon—propose a walk—mamma consents, in the hope you will declare your intentions. Wander through the green fields—talk of “love in a cottage,”—“requited attachment”—and “rural felicity.” If a child happens to pass, of course intimate your fondness for the dear little creatures—this will be a splendid hit. If the coast is clear, down you must fall on your knee, right or left (there is no rule as to this), and swear never to rise until she agrees to take you “for better and for worse.” If, however, the grass is wet, and you have white ducks on, or if your unmentionables are tightly made—of course you must pursue another plan—say, vow you will blow your brains out, or swallow arsenic, or drown yourself, if she won’t say “yes.”

If you are at a ball, and your charmer is there, captivating all around her, get her into a corner, and “pop the question.” Some delay until after supper, but “delays are dangerous”—Round-hand copy.

A young lady’s “tears,” when accepting you, mean “I am too happy to speak.” The dumb show of staring into each other’s faces, squeezing fingers, and sighing, originated, we have reason to believe, with the ancient Romans. It is much practised now-a-days—as saving breath, and being more lover-like than talking.

We could give many more valuable hints, but Punch has something better to do than to teach ninnies the art of amorifying.

THE ROMANCE OF A TEACUP.

SIP THE SECOND.