"This state of things," says the chronicler, "much delights the olive-branches of the family, who, left entirely alone, and quite overlooked in the general _mêlée_, divert themselves by poking their little puddy fingers into the creams, and scooping out the insides of divers patties with a doll's leg," etc., etc. [Illustration: "AN OLIVE-BRANCH."] The ball begins under sundry difficulties. A most desirable person, "_one_ for whom the party was almost given, sends a melancholy statement of the very acute attack of influenza under which _they_ are labouring," which they extremely regret will prevent their accepting, etc. Then one of the intended _belles_ of the evening is obliged to go suddenly into the country, to see a sick aunt, but "she sends her two brothers--tall, _gangling_, awkward young men who wear pumps and long black stocks, and throw their legs about when they are dancing everywhere but over their shoulders," etc., etc., says the author. Here is what Leech thinks of the two brothers. [Illustration: "TWO 'GANGLING' YOUNG MEN."] I have never met with the word "gangling" before; is it an invention of Mr. Albert Smith's? I can speak to the truth of the dress of these long brothers, for I who write have worn the long black stock and the peculiarly cut coat and waistcoats at many an evening party. The numerous illustrations of "The Physiology" are such perfect examples of Leech's earlier work, and in themselves so good, that I am induced to produce several more of them. I don't know whether the fascinating person under the hands of the hair-dresser is Miss Ellen or Miss Fanny. I confess I can scarcely believe she would talk like either of them; happy barber! perfect you are as you ply your vocation; and in that vocation--insomuch as you have that sweet creature to contemplate--to be envied indeed! [Illustration: "PREPARING FOR THE BALL."] Then we have the greengrocer, "who is to assist in waiting.... He wears white cotton gloves with very long fingers, and was never known to announce a name correctly, so the astonished visitor is ushered into the room under any other appellation than his own." [Illustration: "THE ASSISTANT-WAITER."] [Illustration: "THE BAND."] The band must not be forgotten. "The music arrives," says the writer, "sometimes in the shape of a single pianist of untiring fingers and unclosing eyes; sometimes as a harp, piano, and cornopean, who are immediately installed in a corner of the room with two chairs, a music-stool, and a bottle of marsala." I ask my reader to note the individuality in the four faces in this drawing--and in the figures no less than in the heads--each a strongly-marked personality precisely appropriate to the instrument upon which he performs. How admirable is the cornet-a-piston gentleman contrasted with the pianoforte player!