— and there was a droll disposition, not only on the part of Mr Podsnap but of everybody else, to treat him as if he were a child who was hard of hearing.

As a delicate concession to this unfortunately-born foreigner, Mr Podsnap, in receiving him, had presented his wife as “Madame Podsnap;” also his daughter as “Mademoiselle Podsnap,” with some inclination to add “ma fille,” in which bold venture, however, he checked himself. The Veneerings being at that time the only other arrivals, he had added (in a condescendingly explanatory manner), “Monsieur Vey-nair- reeng,” and had then subsided into English.

“How Do You Like London?” Mr Podsnap now inquired from his station of host, as if he were administering something in the nature of a powder or potion to the deaf child; “London, Londres, London?”

The foreign gentleman admired it.

“You find it Very Large?” said Mr Podsnap, spaciously.

The foreign gentleman found it very large.

“And Very Rich?”

The foreign gentleman found it, without doubt, enormement riche.

“Enormously Rich, We say,’ returned Mr Podsnap, in a condescending manner. “Our English adverbs do Not terminate in Mong, and We Pronounce the ‘ch’ as if there were a ‘t’ before it. We say Ritch.”

“Reetch,” remarked the foreign gentleman.

“And Do You Find, Sir,” pursued Mr Podsnap, with dignity, “Many Evidences that Strike You, of our British Constitution in the Streets Of The World’s Metropolis, London, Londres, London?”

The foreign gentleman begged to be pardoned, but did not altogether understand.

“The Constitution Britannique,” Mr Podsnap explained, as if he were teaching in an infant school. “We Say British, But You Say Britannique, You Know” (forgivingly, as if that were not his fault). “The Constitution, Sir.”

The foreign gentleman said, “Mais, yees; I know eem.”

A youngish sallowish gentleman in spectacles, with a lumpy forehead, seated in a supplementary chair at a corner of the table, here caused a profound sensation by saying, in a raised voice, “ESKER,” and then stopping dead.

“Mais oui,” said the foreign gentleman, turning towards him. “Est-ce que? Quoi donc?”

But the gentleman with the lumpy forehead having for the time delivered himself of all that he found behind his lumps, spake for the time no more.

“I Was Inquiring,” said Mr Podsnap, resuming the thread of his discourse, “Whether You Have Observed in our Streets as We should say, Upon our Pavvy as You would say, any Tokens —”

The foreign gentleman, with patient courtesy entreated pardon; “But what was tokenz?”

“Marks,” said Mr Podsnap; “Signs, you know, Appearances — Traces.”

“Ah! Of a Orse?” inquired the foreign gentleman.