XCI.-THE NEW YEAR.

HACKNEY COACHES and carriages keep rattling up the street and down the street in rapid succession, and loud and repeated double-knocks at the house opposite, announce that there's a large party at our neighbor's. We know it is a quadrille party, because we saw a man taking up the drawingroom carpet while we sat at breakfast this morning, and if further evidence be required, and we must tell the truth, we just now saw one of the young ladies "doing" another of the young ladies' hair, near one of the bed-room windows, in an unusual style of splendor, which nothing else but a quadrille party could possibly justify.

The master of the house is in a public office; we know the fact by the cut of his coat, the tie of his neckcloth, and the self-satisfaction of his gait.

Hark!—a cab! That's a junior clerk in some office; a tidy sort of young man, who comes in a pair of boots, and brings his shoes in his coat-pocket, which shoes he is at this very moment putting on in the hall. Now he is announced by the man in the passage to another man in a blue coat, who is a disguised messenger from the office.

"How

The man on the first landing precedes him to the drawingroom door. "Mr. Tupple!" shouts the messenger. are you, Tupple?" says the master of the house, advancing from the fire, before which he has been talking politics, and airing himself. "My dear, this is Mr. Tupple (a courteous salute from the lady of the house); Tupple, my eldest daughter; Julia, my dear, Mr. Tupple; Tupple, my other daugh ter; my son, sir." Tupple rubs his hands very hard, and smiles as if it were all capital fun, and keeps constantly bowing and turning himself round till the whole family have been introduced, when he glides into a chair at the corner of the sofa, and opens a miscellaneous conversation with the young ladies upon the weather, and the theatres, and the old year, and the last new murder, and the balloon, and the ladies' sleeves, and the festivities of the season, and a great many other topics of small-talk beside.

Charming person, that Mr. Tupple-perfect ladies' man— such a delightful companion, too. La-nobody ever understood Papa's jokes half so well as Mr. Tupple, who laughs himself into convulsions at every fresh burst of facetiousness. Most delightful partner! talks through the whole set; and

although he does seem at first rather gay and frivolous, so romantic, and with so much feeling! Quite a love. No great favorite with the young men, certainly, who sneer at, and affect to despise him; but every body knows that's only envy, and they needn't give themselves trouble to depreciate his merits at any rate, for Ma says he shall be asked to every fu ture dinner party, if it's only to talk to people between the courses, and to distract their attention when there's any unexpected delay in the kitchen.

men cry

At supper Mr. Tupple shows to still greater advantage than he has done throughout the evening, and when Pa requests every one to fill their glasses for the purpose of drinking happiness through the year, Mr. Tupple is so droll, insisting on all the young ladies having their glasses filled, notwithstanding their repeated assurances that they never can, by any possibility, think of emptying them: and subsequent ly begging permission to say a few words on the sentiment which has just been uttered by Pa, when he makes one of the most brilliant and poetical speeches that can possibly be imagined, about the old year and new one. After the toast has been drunk, and when the ladies have retired, Mr. Tupple requests that every gentleman will do him the favor of filling his glass, for he has a toast to propose: on which all the gentle"Hear! hear!" and pass the decanters accordingly: and Mr. Tupple, being informed by the master of the house that they are all charged, and waiting for his toast, rises, and begs to remind the gentlemen present, how much they have been delighted by the dazzling array of elegance and beauty which the drawing-room has exhibited that night, and how their senses have been charmed, and their hearts captivated, by the bewitching concentration of female loveliness which that very room has so recently displayed. (Loud cries of "Hear!") Much as he (Tupple) would be disposed to deplore the absence of the ladies, on other grounds, he cannot but derive some consolation from the reflection that the very circum. stance of their not being present, enables him to propose a toast, which he would have otherwise been prevented from giving that toast he begs to say is "The Ladies!" (Great applause.) The Ladies! among whom the fascinating daughters of their excellent host, are alike conspicuous for their beauty, their accomplishments, and their elegance. He begs them to drain a bumper to "The Ladies, and a happy new year to them!" (Prolonged approbation; above which the noise of

the ladies dancing the Spanish dance among themselves, overhead, is distinctly audible.)

The applause consequent on this toast has scarcely subsided, when a young gentleman in a pink under-waistcoat, sitting towards the bottom of the table, is observed to grow very restless and fidgety, and to evince strong indications of some latent desire to give vent to his feelings in a speech, which the wary Tupple at once perceiving, determines to forestall by speaking himself. He, therefore, rises again with an air of solemn importance, and trusts he may be permitted to propose another toast (unqualified approbation, and Mr. Tupple pro ceeds); he is sure they must all be deeply impressed with the hospitality he may say the splendor-with which they have been that night received by their worthy host and hostess. (Unbounded applause.) Although this is the first occasion on which he has had the pleasure and delight of sitting at that board, he has known his friend Dobble long and intimately; he has been connected with him in business-he wishes every body present knew Dobble as well as he does. (A cough from the host.) He (Tupple) can lay his hand upon his (Tupple's) heart, and declare his confident belief that a better man, a better husband, a better father, a better brother, a better son, a better relation in any relation of life, than Dobble, never existed. (Loud cries of "Hear!") They have seen him to-night in the peaceful bosom of his family: they should see him in the morning, in the trying duties of his office. Calm in the perusal of the morning papers, uncompromising in the signature of his name, dignified in his replies to the inquiries of stranger applicants, deferential in his behavior to his superiors, majestic in his deportment to the messengers. (Cheers.) When he bears this merited testimony to the excellent qualities of his friend Dobble, what can he say in approaching such a subject as Mrs. Dobble? Is it requisite for him to expatiate on the qualities of that amiable woman? No; he will spare his friend Dobble's feelings; he will spare the feelings of his friend, if he will allow him to have the honor of calling him so-Mr. Dobble, jun. (Here Mr. Dobblejun. who has been previously distending his mouth to a considerable width, by thrusting a particularly fine orange into that feature, suspends operations, and assumes a proper ap pearance of intense melancholy.) He will simply say-and he is quite certain it is a sentiment in which all who hear him will readily concur-that his friend Dobble is as superior to

any man he ever knew, as Mrs. Dobble is far beyond any woman he ever saw (except her daughters), and he will conclude by proposing their worthy "Host, and Hostess, and may they live to enjoy many more new years.'

The toast is drunk with acclamation; Dobble returns thanks, and the whole party rejoin the ladies in the drawingroom. Young men who were too bashful to dance before supper, find tongues and partners; the musicians exhibit unequivocal symptoms of having drunk the new year in, while the company were out; and dancing is kept up until far in the first morning of the new year. DICKENS.