_Slowgoe._ I’ve no objection, for one. But mind, none of your fangled brass stuff, your _cornets-a-piston_, and all that. Let’s have a good English fiddle and a constitutional clarionet. And none of your quodrilling, and polkys; but a straightforward country-dance, and a legitimate four-handed reel. And mind, none of your fellars from the orchestra of the opera: if there’s a foreigner here with moustachers, I take my hat. _Nutts._ No objection, I hope, to a Scotch bagpipe and an Irish harp? _Slowgoe._ Why, no. _Nutts._ Very well, you shall have ’em; and more than that, a hornpipe danced to ’em in character, by a young gentleman who lives at Mrs Biggleswade’s over the way, and goes on in one of the pantomimes as the “British Lion.” _Mrs Nutts._ He’s promised me to come in his skin, and I’m sure it will be beautiful. And for awhile turning from the fierceness of politics, raging all the year round in Nutts’ shaving-shop, it _was_ beautiful to see how Nutts and the customers, with wives and sweethearts, danced on New-Year’s night. Mr Nutts led off Mrs Biggleswade from over the way; the hornpipe of the “British Lion” was danced to admiration;--and, in the full flush of the festivity, it is said that Mr Peabody, the scholarly policeman, furtively saluted Mrs Nutts, when that unsuspecting woman stood immediately beneath the mistletoe. This, however, could hardly be, since the very next morning Mrs Nutts herself declared to Mrs Biggleswade over the way, “that that Mr Peabody was too good for the police; he was such a gentleman.” [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XVII. _=NUTTS=, with his usual customers._ _Slowgoe._ (_With newspaper._) So Parliament’s at it in earnest now. _Nutts._ Yes; they’ve opened Solomon’s brass kettle at last. _Slowgoe._ What do you mean by Solomon’s kettle? _Nutts._ And did you never read the “’Rabian Nights,” where they fish up from the sea the brass kettle with Solomon’s seal upon it? A kettle thought to be crammed with wisdom, and when it was opened there came out of it clouds and clouds of smoke? _Mrs Nutts._ La! Nutts, how can you go on in that heathen way about Parliament, after what you saw on Tuesday? I’m a sinful woman, Mr Slowgoe, if he didn’t keep me awake half the night talking of the Queen’s stomacher and crown of diamonds. He talked on ’em in such a way, I almost thought I saw ’em in the room. _Nutts._ Well, there’d have been no want of the rushlight if you had. _Slowgoe._ (_Solemnly._) Why, you never mean to say, Mr Nutts, that you saw her Gracious Majesty on last Tuesday, with her crown upon her head, in the House of Lords? _Nutts._ Saw all of it--heard all of it; but how I got into the House, why, that’s a secret that even my tombstone shall tell to nobody. Splendid sight! I can tell you. I haven’t got the light of the diamonds out of my eyes yet. _Tickle._ Perhaps, then, you’ll tell us a little about it?