It took us quite a quarter of an hour to collect our party, but when this had been done we made hastily for Jacques’ to make sure of getting something to eat and drink before closing time. Blandford, who belongs to the New Lyric, invited the whole party to sup there, but I dissuaded him; and as we afterwards found that the Club was closed indefinitely, my wisdom was justified. Crossing the Circus we lost Reggie; who subsequently scandalised the habitués of the Great Trafalgar by reappearing about 11.30 next morning in evening dress with an improbable tale of a cousin from Peckham Rye, who had taken him in for the night. At the entrance to the Restaurant, Freddy sighted an awful looking object with an eye-glass, which subsequently caused him much perturbation. An appeal to the presiding genius of the lobster bar to have the offensive person removed proved unavailing, and so we made for the supper room endeavouring to forget his glassy eye and pinched waist. Since it was no longer as early as it had been, the room was nearly full, each table being occupied by one or more young gentlemen enjoying assorted confectionery. Before we had time to do anything a fight between two ladies, late of Hamburg, but now of Aphrodite Mansions, according to the waiter, engrossed our attention. The subject of dispute was a weak-looking little man with pince-nez who gazed helplessly at the combatants, evidently wondering if his fate would be that of the baby in the case adjudicated by the late Solomon of Jerusalem! The end came quite suddenly, for a herculean official unobstrusively removed the two ladies, leaving the poor little man to consume a double portion of rum omelette in solitude. By running two tables together we managed to keep our party united, and an invaluable waiter who appeared to know our wants by instinct, dumped down several dishes of devilled kidneys and two magnums of the best, which were consumed as though none of us had had a meal for a week. We were doing very nicely, thank you, and Freddy and Fatty had already fallen into a comatose condition when the room was electrified by the appearance of Ironsides of Tydvil carrying the offensive eye-glass person upside down by one leg. Several waiters clung unheeded to his trousers, and the manager followed giving vent to frenzied ejaculations. The creature’s disengaged leg had only just collided with the head waiter’s face, and swept three glasses off a buffet when the lights went out, and simultaneously a piece of grilled haddock found a lodgement in my eye. Those in authority raised a melancholy chorus of ‘time, gentlemen, please,’ with a foreign accent, and Freddy, having tucked a magnum under each arm, led the procession to the door, supported by Accrington with the bill pinned on to his coat-tail.