sequence of the eighteen-penny veal-and-ham
pie he had brought in the little side pocket of
his green riding-coat, for luncheon, causing a
very ungraceful protuberance in his outline on
one side. We must by no means omit to record
that this list was brightened and completed
by the arrival of a number of ladies of high
rank, in elegant morning dresses; among
whom we noticed the Dowager Duchess of
Flusterwing, with her two charming nieces,
the Ladies Dovelies; also the Countess of
Powterscourt, and Lady Forester, who
supported on her arm the graceful figure of the
Marchioness of Paroquet, whose husband
was recently scalped in a skirmish with the
Chocktaw Mackaws.

Lord Bumbleby now opened the proceedings
by requesting the ladies who had just
entered, to settle themselves as quickly and
commodiously as possible, because he expected
his learned friend, the Chevalier Bunsen,
would shortly arrive. His Lordship then
called upon the Secretary, Mr. Mitchell, to
bring forward the different plaintiffs in
succession.

The first personage who presented himself,
was the Elephant. The Secretary informed the
Court that this preference had been shown,
not only in courtesy to the Elephant, on
whose domains they were now encroaching,
but also for his eminent sagacity, and the
general urbanity of his manners to all who
associated with him. The two head keepers
had assured him that the Lion was too mag-
nanimous to feel any offence at it.

The Elephant advanced with his usual
cautious steps, his eyes being alternately cast on
the ground immediately before his broad toes,
and then taking a quiet look at the faces of
the company assembled. He now slowly
raised his trunk over their heads, and made
his grand salaam.

It was not, he said, without considerable
reluctance that he came forward to make a
complaint of anybody in the Gardens—
especially of one so eminent for amiability and
originality of character, as the personage
concerning whom these complaints had arisen.
If he had been obliged to report his own
keeper for inattention, or want of respect,
it would have cost him much pain; but no
words could describe his discomfort at finding
himself obliged to appear in that Court as
leading spokesman of a serious complaint
brought against one of his fellow-creatures.
He did not mean any offence to any learned
or meritorious gentleman present, and of
course not to any lady; but it would be mere
affectation in him to disguise the fact that he
regarded his fellow-captives in those Gardens
as of more consequence in the scale of creation
than any of those who held dominion over
them, or who came to see them. They were
obviously in that position by virtue of their
superior qualities, which made them objects
of intense interest to the less-endowed race
of mankind.

Lord Bumbleby. I cannot allow these
introductory reflections to proceed. For my own
part, I totally dissent from them, as no doubt
do all the present Members of Council.

The Elephant apologised if he had said
anything discourteous. It was not his intention.
Some people might think that the superior
size and strength of other people were of less
importance than their own deficiencies in those
respects. But whatever might be the nature
of the complaint now about to be made, it
would not so much involve disagreeable
comparisons between the noble captives in the
Gardens and their Council, keepers, and
visitors, as an exposure of erroneous
estimates formed of one particular creature,
and of undue favours shown him, to the injury
or neglect of many more deserving such, or,
at least, no less attention.

Lord Bumbleby. You really must not be
so prolix. Come at once to the question.
What is the cause of the disturbance and
disorder that has of late been among you. Of
whom, or of what do you complain?

All ears and eyes were now turned towards
the Elephant, who, dropping his trunk, and
placing his legs—the right fore-leg in advance
of the left, and the right hind-leg in advance
of the left—commenced a sawing to and fro
of his body; presenting the appearance of
some colossal toy, the body of which was
moved forwards and backwards by means of
a bit of very simple machinery, while his legs
remained fixed to the board he stood upon.
He continued to do this for several minutes.

Lord Bumbleby. How much longer are we
to wait for a reply?

To this question the Elephant made no
rejoinder, but shifted his legs, placing those
in advance which had previously been behind,
and then resumed his sawing motion.

Lord Bumbleby. Is this all the answer you
intend to give the Court? Can anybody
translate this oriental performance?

An extremely small, thin, squeaky voice,
which seemed to come from a group of animals
collected round the open entrance to the
marquee, was now heard:—

"It seems, my Lord," said the little voice,
"that the Elephant cannot make up his mind
as to the reply he should give. It is too
difficult and full of ups and downs, and high-
ways and by-ways. But I can skip over all
these, and tell you at once that the cause of
our complaints is from the favouritism shown
to the fat water-pig!—that's what we are all
making mouths at!"

After much looking about, the little voice
that had uttered this was discovered to proceed
from a very tiny russet-green Marmozet
Monkey, with little brown tufts of ears
standing out from each side of his head, and
with very bright quick eyes, having a delicate
tint of clear hazel in them, and of great
intelligence, though displaying a considerable
degree of nervous alarm in addressing the
Court. He was seated on the top of the left