Yet what can describe or even remotely indicate the emotions which surged over Mr. William Jordan, Junior, when through eyes dim with ecstasy he beheld the divine form of the goddess, who, as she rose to her full height beside the piano and broke into a not particularly melodious warble, approximated more nearly in physique and appearance to his Olympians than any creature he had looked upon hitherto. It did not matter to William Jordan what strange and fantastic words fell from that full, white throat, or what fantastic gyrations that divine form subsequently went through; it was not for such as himself remotely to comprehend the speech and gestures of those immortal ones of whom she was a daughter. He sat entranced, unable to move, to think, or even to realize the wild emotions of which so suddenly he had become the prey. When the goddess, a little out of breath, and also flushed, and therefore looking more brilliant than ever, swept back to the sofa to his side, a kind of religious awe mounted in Mr. William Jordan as he peered upwards into that beautiful, smiling, good-natured face. “O-o-oh!” he exclaimed softly. Hearing the exclamation, both Chrissie and the goddess looked towards the source of it in unconcealed amazement. They then looked at one another. As the goddess sank upon the sofa somewhat heavily she broke out into a loud laugh. “Too funny!” she said, and proceeded to fan herself with great vigour. Mr. Dodson then informed the company that Mr. James Dodson, of the St. James’s Restaurant Bar, Piccadilly, would admit any member of the audience into the mysteries of the three-card trick free of charge, yet made an exception in favour of Mr. Percival Davis, who was not in need of instruction. “Jimmy,” said his _fiancée_ in an authoritative tone, “sing _I Want One like Pa had Yesterday_.” When Mr. Dodson had rendered this ballad with immense success, he called upon Joseph Cox, Esquire, of Surrey Second Eleven, and also of the leading public-houses within a mile radius of Kennington Oval, to give his world-famous imitation of a white mouse walking upon its fore-paws backwards. Mr. Joseph Cox, with great natural modesty, disclaimed any special aptitude for a feat of this delicate nature, but, rather than be a source of disappointment to the company, he would undertake either to give an imitation of a hen laying an egg, or, if preferred, he would stand on his head while any member of the audience counted thirty.