“I will convert the elm meadow at Osterley Park into a fair,” replied the major, “wherein every species of amusement shall be exhibited: I will engage that vagabond Punch, who, like a snail, travels about the country with his house at his back, to display his hereditary wit, and mimic drolleries; tumblers, rope-dancers, conjurors, fire-eaters, and, in short, the whole merry train of Comus, shall be pressed into our service. After these exhibitions, the company may weave the mazy dance, for platforms shall be erected for their accommodation; I will arrange orchestras for music, and ornamented tents for refreshments. The vicar,” observed the major, with an arch smile, “shall open the ball with the bride.” “Had I numbered a few olympiads less, major, I might not have declined so flattering a distinction,” replied Mr. Twaddleton, evidently not displeased with the compliment. “Find some classical authority for the measure, and let your age sanction the propriety of my proposal,” said the major. “Your suggestion merits attention,--let me see--I have it, major. Socrates learned to dance very late in life, and Cato, with all his severity of manners, disdained not, at the age of sixty, to practise it. I will, therefore, comply with your desire, and certainly lead the bride down the first dance.” “The canal,” continued the major, “shall, for the first time, float the proud emblems of British glory on its glassy bosom; and when the shades of evening fall, my Lilliputian ships shall engage--such cannonading! such nautical evolutions!! Mr. Seymour.” “How charming! how very delightful!” exclaimed Louisa and Fanny: “but pray, papa, do allow Tom to return from school to witness all these amusements.” “Fear not,” said the major; “I shall make that a condition; and I trust your papa will not refuse the request.” “Certainly not,” replied the father; “I shall be anxious to seize so favourable an opportunity for explaining to my children the various tricks they will witness, and the machinery by which the numerous deceptions will be accomplished; thus shall I convert that which, to the common eye, will appear as a scene of idle revelry, into a school of philosophy, and in accordance with my favourite plan, ‘turn sport into science.’” “Upon my word, Mr. Seymour, you are a perfect alchymist, and extract gold from every thing you touch; you have already derived scientific information from the most miscellaneous and trifling amusements, and will, no doubt, upon this occasion, convert our very pies and puddings into instruments of instruction; thus verifying the old adage, ‘that there is reason in roasting of eggs,’” said the major. “I perceive that the major is not aware of the philosophy which suggested that adage,” observed the vicar. “Nor am I,” said Mr. Seymour, “and therefore pray enlighten us upon that point.”