A PUBLIC DINNER. 



Ouu taste does not often conduct us to great public dinners: the 

 reason does not concern the world in general. Possibly we do not 

 like the principle of these affairs : perhaps we do not like the dinners, 

 but tfimporte; suffice it that such things are matter of novelty and 

 curiosity to us : they may be such also to some of our readers. 



It happened that we lately received a ticket of admission to a 

 grand commemorative festival at the celebrated Stonemasons' Arms, 

 or some such place (our memory is not exact in names), *' tickets one 

 guinea, wine included," for the benefit of a Charity. Curious to see 

 how these things are managed in these our later days, we attended 

 at the place and day appointed. 



On arriving at the hospitable portals, we found them surrounded 

 by a talking host of men, women, and children, who seemed to take 

 great interest in the persons of those going in to dine. In fact, hap- 

 pening to turn round on the elevated steps of the doorway to take 

 a view of the assembled multitude, it (not the doorway but the 

 crowd) showed very manifest symptoms of a desire to shout and make 

 an uproar in our honour ; enthusiasm, indeed, flung one hat up into 

 the air, which, had we been its owner, we should have been loth 

 to see take so prominent a position. Upon enquiry of one of the 

 many bustling gentlemen who hung about the entrance in white 

 stockings and nursing a white towel under their arms, what might be 

 the reason of this large congregation of the lieges, he replied, shaking 

 his napkin with a knowing air, *' Oh, Sir, there is a grand dinner 

 here to-day, as being the hanniversary of the foundation of the ' East 

 London Dental Institution for drawing the Teeth of the Poor without 

 a letter of recommendation ; ' arid them's some of the hobjects com'd 

 to see their governors and benefactors." Rejoiced at the idea that 

 we were about to eat and to drink for the benefit of the teeth of the 

 poor people about Crutched Friars, Shoreditch, and Crucifix Lane, 

 we desired to be shown immediately to the room where this admi- 

 rable institution met. 



Like angels upon the ladder in Jacob's dream, waiters with 

 smoking dishes were hurrying up and down the broad and dusty 

 flight of stairs by which we ascended. On our way, we could not 

 but reflect on the probability that our out-of-door friends, having 

 tasted some of the pains of this tooth-extracting institution, might 

 perhaps like to participate in its enjoyments and turn their renovated 

 jaws to an useful and entertaining purpose. 



We were ushered into a large and somewhat gloomy room adjoin- 

 ing great hall, having deposed our ticket at the entrance and 

 taken up an order for a bottle of wine in exchange. In this room, 

 some walking up and down, others ranged at its sides, were a set of 

 melancholy -looking individuals, whom we at first took for a large 

 body of undertakers; but, upon enquiry if there was not some mistake, 

 we found all to be correct, and that the gentlemen were only waiting 

 for their dinner. 



In a short time it might be perceived that these waiters for the 



