The tea-tray having been removed, the burners of the chandelier heightened, and the Snuffle family had their row of little noses polished by the eldest sister, preparations begin:--Miss Jemima playing the pretty little "Hop o'my Thumb Polka," and Tom, who has been sitting very quietly beside Mercy Merry (vowing to marry her at fourteen, for "his father is so rich that he would give him five pounds a year to live upon"), leads off, much to the mortification of those boys who will not be "young gentlemen"--the many who won't, can't, and shan't dance! but, being bent upon mischief, dispose explosive spiders and chair-crackers about the carpet;--one little mischievous fellow wishing he had brought some pepper to strew on the floor, and make 'em sneeze; however, they get up a little excitement another way with the sofa-pillows, a sham fight, in which a parian Amazon falls beside Marian Bell, who "didn't go to do it;" so dancing is relinquished for games to suit all parties:--Hunt the Slipper, a sport carried on with great spirit, until it is found there are slippers enough for three--a thing everybody holds to be cheatery:--so that game is abandoned for Blind-man's-buff, the mere mention of which, carries us back to childhood; and, as authors often lug in their thoughts (bits of nature) very unceremoniously, and at odd times, we may, possibly, be pardoned or praised for so doing. Well, we never hear mention of this game but we think of a bump we once received during the sport, our blind ardour causing us to flounder in a fender, and bruise our head, the remains of which will be taken to the "long home." Well do we remember the spotted turban worn on that occasion--for we recollect, at the time, thinking "Belcher" a new term, just coined;--having our crown rubbed with brandy and taking a little internally, which appeared attracted by that externally, for it got in our head and made us very merry, causing the hiccups to such an extent, that we were called _Sir Toby Belch_ of "Twelfth Night; or, What you Will" notoriety (having drawn that character). Thus, brandy, Belchers, and Blind-man's-buff, hold an indissoluble partnership in our memory--a remnant of those days when we imagined a Jew incapable of dealing in other merchandise than old clothes; or of shaving like a Christian, or, if he did, would do other than expose a pendant chin, resembling the _vertebrae_ of a horse's tail. Oh! those days have flown--days when we imagined peas split by hand, and thought humanity fools for not making soup with whole ones--but we are sadly digressing!--"It's not fair!" cry twenty voices--"the blind man can see;" and so he could, for he always caught Miss Brown, who, afraid of the piano or pier-glass, would stand in the way:--so that sport is relinquished for cake and Characters; the former seeming to afford great gratification, and the latter little, save to the King and Queen--all other characters being, like the riddles, "given up,"--no one caring to