Here come the pole and ribbons. Yoicks! Capitally leaped! That young lady bounds over the cords as light and playfully as a panther. Surely the Inca is not going to disgrace himself by tumbling through a hoop? Yes, by the powers he is!--and a very fair somersault he has made of it! Now, then, put on the steam! Round they go like a whirlwind, attitudinising as if in agony. She looks behind her--starts--points; he turns his head--some imaginary foe must be in pursuit! Onwards--onwards, loving pair! One leap now, and ye are safe! It is a rasper, though--being nothing more nor less than a five-barred gate, speaking volumes in favour of early Peruvian agriculture. Over it they go both together; and Mr Merryman, in token of satisfaction, refreshes himself with a swim upon the sawdust! "That course alone is worth the money," said I. "Now, Chief, unless you are bent upon prosecuting your conquest to the left, we may go. I feel a strong craving in my inner man for a draught of Barclay and Perkins." "After all," remarked the Doctor, as we wended our way homewards, "there is something remarkably refreshing in the utter extravagance of the fictions which are presented at Astley's. They must keep in pay some author of very extraordinary genius. He never seems for a moment at a loss; and I doubt not that, at an hour's notice, he could get up a spectacle as brilliant as Aladdin's, in the Arabian Nights." "I wish some of our friends would profit by the example," said I. "There is a fearful dearth of invention just now, especially in the fictional department; and if no speedy improvement takes place, I confess I do not know what is to become of the periodicals." "I quite agree with you," remarked the Spaniard. "Some people are rather given to hunt an idea to death. For example, I am acquainted with a certain gentleman who can write about nothing except the railways. Every story of his has some connexion with scrip or shares, and the interest of the plot invariably turns upon a panic." "Allow me to remark, Mr Zumalacarregui," said I, considerably nettled at the allusion, which seemed excessively uncalled for, "that any subject of domestic interest is much better than an incessant repetition of low Peninsular skirmishes. You may probably think that the public are interested in the exploits of Herrera the dragoon, in the forcible strangulation of gipsies, attacks upon convents, and the other wares in which you usually deal; but my opinion is very different." "No doubt of it!" exclaimed the Doctor, who was delighted at the prospect of a literary row. "Every body is sick with the eternal sameness of these señoras. I wonder, Chief, you don't change your ground, and let us have something better." "Better than what?" said the Spaniard. "Better than rigmarole stories about surveyors, and gradients, and old gentlemen with pigtails that dabble in stock. I rather suspect that, at all events, my bitterest enemy cannot accuse me of having put out any thing worse."