"That's all right; and small blame to you, Dicky," said I. "Well, I heartily wish Mr Vernon joy; and if his love don't run smooth, and he ever wants a helping hand, I only hope he'll let me give it him." "There's nothing I should like better too, independent of my regard for Mr Vernon," observed Dicky, pompously. I remember that we long discussed the probabilities of Mr Vernon's requiring our services; and we came to the conclusion that, though we should be delighted to help him to obtain the lady's hand in any way he might require, in principle the running away with a lady was decidedly wrong. The subject was changed by our seeing the purser lead out one of the fat ladies, behind whom Dicky had been hid, to attempt a waltz. Never was there a more extraordinary performance. Neither of them had a notion of the dance. They floundered and flolloped, and twisted and turned, and tumbled against all the other couples, till they spread consternation around; and at last found themselves the sole performers in the room. As poor Nip went twirling round, much in the way that a child's humming-top does when it begins to stagger preparatory to stopping, he perceived a suppressed laugh on the lips and in the eyes of the surrounding spectators; and suspecting that he might be the cause of it, gave a convulsive gripe at his partner's waist, or at the part where her waist should be, in order to bring himself to an anchor. The effort was too great for his powers, and both he and she came with a run to the floor, close to where Dicky and I were standing. There they kicked and struggled in vain efforts to rise. At this Dicky could no longer contain himself, but, regardless of the purser's anger, burst into a loud fit of laughter. However, we ran forward to do our best to get the hero and heroine on their legs again, though we were too much convulsed to be of much assistance. "I'll pay you off for this, Master Sharpe," whispered the purser, looking up fiercely. "I couldn't help it, indeed I could not," answered Dicky in an apologetic tone; "you did look so funny." "I'll wring your ears off, you young puppy," cried poor Nip, rising and shaking himself, in his rage forgetting the fair sharer of his misfortune. "Look to your partner, Mr Cheesnip," said Captain Poynder, coming up, and guessing the cause of the purser's anger. "Here, Sharpe, help me to put the lady on her legs."