‘My wife, sir--Mrs. Leo Hunter--is proud to number among her acquaintance all those who have rendered themselves celebrated by their works and talents. Permit me, sir, to place in a conspicuous part of the list the name of Mr. Pickwick, and his brother-members of the club that derives its name from him.’ ‘I shall be extremely happy to make the acquaintance of such a lady, sir,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘You _shall _make it, sir,’ said the grave man. ‘To-morrow morning, sir, we give a public breakfast--a _fete champetre_--to a great number of those who have rendered themselves celebrated by their works and talents. Permit Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir, to have the gratification of seeing you at the Den.’ ‘With great pleasure,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Mrs. Leo Hunter has many of these breakfasts, Sir,’ resumed the new acquaintance--‘“feasts of reason,” sir, “and flows of soul,” as somebody who wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Leo Hunter on her breakfasts, feelingly and originally observed.’ ‘Was _he_ celebrated for his works and talents?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘He was Sir,’ replied the grave man, ‘all Mrs. Leo Hunter’s acquaintances are; it is her ambition, sir, to have no other acquaintance.’ ‘It is a very noble ambition,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘When I inform Mrs. Leo Hunter, that that remark fell from your lips, sir, she will indeed be proud,’ said the grave man. ‘You have a gentleman in your train, who has produced some beautiful little poems, I think, sir.’ ‘My friend Mr. Snodgrass has a great taste for poetry,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘So has Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir. She dotes on poetry, sir. She adores it; I may say that her whole soul and mind are wound up, and entwined with it. She has produced some delightful pieces, herself, sir. You may have met with her “Ode to an Expiring Frog,” sir.’ ‘I don’t think I have,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘You astonish me, Sir,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter. ‘It created an immense sensation. It was signed with an “L” and eight stars, and appeared originally in a lady’s magazine. It commenced-- ‘“Can I view thee panting, lying On thy stomach, without sighing; Can I unmoved see thee dying On a log Expiring frog!”’ ‘Beautiful!’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Fine,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter; ‘so simple.’ ‘Very,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘The next verse is still more touching. Shall I repeat it?’ ‘If you please,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘It runs thus,’ said the grave man, still more gravely. ‘“Say, have fiends in shape of boys, With wild halloo, and brutal noise, Hunted thee from marshy joys, With a dog, Expiring frog!”’ ‘Finely expressed,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘All point, Sir,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter; ‘but you shall hear Mrs. Leo Hunter repeat it. She can do justice to it, Sir. She will repeat it, in character, Sir, to-morrow morning.’ ‘In character!’ ‘As Minerva. But I forgot--it’s a fancy-dress _dejeune_.’ ‘Dear me,’ said Mr. Pickwick, glancing at his own figure--‘I can’t possibly--’