ment, as it looked at the present moment, with the bright June sun shining full upon it, and with the unwonted bits of gay colour gleaming here and there from the dresses of the ladies, as they appeared at some of the mullioned windows, or strolled across those grass-plats which might not be trodden on by the feet of undergraduates. Cheery talk and laughter were also borne to the ear from Quads and rooms; and a due proportion of it came from the room of little Mr. Bouncer. Huz and Buz had finished their breakfast of chicken-bones, and had been much annoyed by Mr. Smalls, who had been vainly endeavouring to teach them to sit up and hold short pipes in their mouths—a proceeding which they had resented with much dudgeon.
"They think it low," said their master, "to do tricks like Circus dogs, even though you held out the inducement of acting as Clown. You 'd better let them alone. They 've a long journey to take to-morrow, and it won't do to upset their feelings to-day. Help your self to liquors, Smalls, and don't interfere with the enjoyments of the animals. I shall be glad to hear your views on things in general, particularly on the political condition of Europe." And little Mr. Bouncer made himself comfortable, with his legs over the arm of his easy chair.
"Well; you know old Peter?" replied Mr. Smalls, as though he were hastening to comply with his host's request.
"What! Peter the Great? Yes; I 've known him from a baby. Fire away, my boy," said Mr. Bouncer.
"Old Peter, the cake-man, is the party referred to," explained Mr. Smalls—"the old fellow who is allowed
