Paris Lions and London Tigers

This is summat like, observed Mr. Callam.

Paris is a divine place. I doat upon looking glasses, and yellow silk furniture, observed Eliza, throwing herself upon the sofa.

Peter didn't know what the devil to make of it, wondered if there were any English, private theatricals; was sure Talma would never do, after Kean; wanted to see for him for all that.

Mrs. Callam voted for retiring to rest. Mr. Callam wanted his supper; Mary, her tea, and Eliza, her writing desk, for she declared she could not eat, drink or sleep, till she had addressed a letter to her darling, sweet friend, and school-fellow, Charlotte Temple.

Mary was not much tired, wished she had'nt been tired at all, hated