"At last, hurried steps are heard, and the door opening briskly, Mr. Jackson (the host) in person appears, who excuses himself for his delay on account of some business, which, he says, kept him; he shakes your hands, both at once, in each of his, and tells you dinner is served; and then you offer your arm to Mrs. Jackson, I take that of the timid eldest daughter, and we descend to the ground floor, to the dining-room, which, like the two drawing-rooms, is everywhere the same, in form, size, and situation. You can hardly fail to observe all the brilliant plate, not only on the table but also on the sideboard, where trays of every size, goblets, covers, plates, and other objects of the same metal are ranged against the wall; this display puts one in mind of a silversmith's shop. "The table is out of all proportion long; each end is occupied, the one by Mr. Jackson, who undertakes to serve the fish and to carve the large joints (such as an immense turbot, and then an enormous piece of roast beef); the other end by _madame_, who, having placed you on her right, and me on her left, begins to serve the soup; she will afterwards ask you to carve the everlasting boiled fowls, _à la sauce blanche_. As for the French _ragouts_, which are ranged lengthwise down the table in covered dishes, be careful and avoid them; I recommend it as a friend. You have accepted soup, and I see that you are astonished to find little _côtelettes_, bones, forced meat balls, etc., swimming about; the cayenne pepper and other hot spices cause you to make a grimace, whilst they burn your throat; never mind! eat some turbot, you will find it excellent.