In such a city as London there are always enough who do not read the _contradictions_ of announcements (with those who won't believe them if they do read them) to fill a room; and of such was his room chiefly filled on this occasion--all impatient to see the beautiful bride of the Indian, and full of expectation, though his second advertisement had announced that "she would not appear." One can easily imagine the difficulties with which he was surrounded, and the perplexing materials with which he was about to contend in presenting himself as the expounder of Indian modes, and that in the absence of the "beautiful bride." Curiosity to hear him give his first lecture on the customs of the Indians, "who had spent all his life amongst them," led me into the crowd, where I caught the following amusing incidents, which are given as nearly as I could hear them amidst the confusion that soon took place. Mr. Rankin had proceeded but a few sentences in his elucidations when a voice from a distant part of the room called out, "Rankin! Mr. Rankin!" "Well," inquired the lecturer, "what's wanted of Mr. Rankin?" "Why, Sir, Mr. Rankin is advertised to lecture, and we expect to hear him." "My name is Rankin--I am Mr. Rankin, Sir." "No, you are not Mr. Rankin neither: why do you tell us that nonsense? Come now, _Arthur_; you know me, old fellow: don't set yourself up for Mr. Rankin here; you'll get yourself into trouble if you do." (Uproar, and cries of "Turn him out, turn him out.") The voice continues, "Mr. Rankin! Mr. Rankin! what has lived all his life with the Indians!" (Uproar.) "I am Mr. Rankin, Sir: what do you want?" "You are _not_ Mr. Rankin; are Mr. Arthur Jones, or was so when I knew you in New York." (Cries of "Turn him out--shame, shame! the bride, the bride!" and hisses.) The lecturer here advanced to the front of the platform and endeavoured to frown the crowd into silence, but got nothing in return but "The bride, the bride!" and hisses from various quarters. One of the men in his employment unluckily at that moment seized hold of a little square-shouldered working-man, standing just before me, who was hissing, and was hauling him towards the door. The little man gathered himself up, and brought his antagonist to a halt before he was half way to the door. While grasping each other by the collar, the little man, who was nearly lost sight of in the crowd, demanded the cause of this violence on his person. "Why, Sir, you was hissing the lecturer, and I was ordered to put you out of the room--that was all."