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swords and daggers, then he tossed up a number of gilt balls in the air, catching them all with wonderful dexterity; and finally, up went a little wooden tree, with timber leaves and imitation birds upon it, which he balanced on his forehead, while with a tube supported in his mouth he commenced an indiscriminate slaughter with parched peas upon the specimens of ornithology above.

At last the exhibition closed, and down came a handful of halfpence from the windows of the White Hart, and elsewhere.

"I say," said Raffleton, who had by this time succeeded in pacifying the astounded dignitaries of Henley, "I say, come up here, my man, and do that over again, will you?

The juggler willingly complied. Meanwhile the crowd, finding there was no prospect of any farther fun, dispersed in different directions, to be in time for the fireworks which were to be let off at the waterside.

"Well," said Mr. Richardson Lane, when the juggler had performed sundry more astonishing evolutions, "I must say you're a first-rate fellow, you are. Take some sherry, will you?"

"Very like the Crown Prince," said Raffleton.

"Not unlike, really," said Eden. "What do you call yourself?" added he to the juggler.

'Mumbo Jumbo," said the man, tossing off a second glass of sherry. 'Very nice name," said Raffleton. "A negro you call yourself, I suppose?

"Why, gentlemen," said the man, scratching his head with a humorous air, and alternately gazing at the company and the third glass of sherry to which he had been helped, "why, gentlemen, you see, Mumbo Jumbo, isn't exactly my real name, only my travelling one. My real name is Giles Grump, and I come out of Yorkshire.'

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"Then that complexion isn't natural?" said Eden.

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No, sir," said Mumbo Jumbo; "but it's good for trade. A white man's a every day occurrence, -so I had my ears bored, and lampblacked and pomatumed myself in no time. Always carry my complexion in this here little bag, I do."

While Mumbo Jumbo was giving this account of himself and his profession, it was very evident, from the abstracted air of Raffleton, that he was revolving something of unusual interest in his mind. Meanwhile Mumbo Jumbo was enjoying his sherry with intense satisfaction.

"Is-is it

does it take long, I mean, to black your face in that way?" asked Raffleton at length of the conjurer.

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"Oh no, sir — done in a minute," said Mumbo Jumbo, alias Giles Grump. They use it at the theatres when they play Othello." "Come off easily, does it?" asked Raffleton.

"Oh yes, sir, uncommon easy," was the answer. you how to do it in no time."

"I could show

"Ah!" said Raffleton,-" ah! yes." Here he resumed his meditations for a few moments, totally unmoved by the various expressions of curiosity respecting his intentions which broke from the circle around him. Presently he commenced afresh.

"One more glass of sherry," said he, in the most insinuating of tones to the conjurer.

Mumbo Jumbo opened his mouth very wide to grin, and then still wider, to make room for the proffered sherry.

"Could-could you black my face?" was Raffleton's next question. The Mayor edged his chair away from his host, as if he began to entertain a strong confirmation of a previous opinion which he had formed, viz. that he was sitting next to a lunatic.

"Your face, sir?" said Mumbo Jumbo. "To be sure, sir. I'd do anything for you,-and such tipple as this here, sir."

"What in the name of goodness have you got in your head?” asked Mr. Richardson Lane. This inquiry was echoed by all the party. "Head?" said Raffleton. "The best part of a bottle of port, and a sublime idea. Nothing more."

To state what this sublime idea was, or, indeed, to follow the conversation any further, would be, in the present stage of the proceedings, to do away with any little interest which might possibly attach itself to our next Chapter. We shall therefore content ourselves with the simple statement, that at the departure of the Mayor and Corporation, which took place soon afterwards, Mr. John Raffleton might have been seen sitting by the bedside of his Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Ootaloota, manifesting particular satisfaction at being informed that he was positively too ill to proceed to Oxford till the morning, and instituting sundry inquiries into the nature of the territory of Ootaloota, and the extent of his Royal Highness's acquaintance with the before-mentioned missionary, Birch.

CHAPTER XI.

TRANSPORTS THE READER BACK TO OXFORD.

WHILE these proceedings are enacting at Henley, the course of events requires that we should return to the head-quarters of our story at Oxford, and bring the reader once more into close contact with that important personage, the Reverend Burnaby Birch.

The preparations requisite for the comfort of his expected visiter, the Crown Prince, had made it an unusually busy day for the Reverend Burnaby. The opposite rooms to his own had been fitted up for the reception of so distinguished a guest; the scout had been expressly ordered to keep an enormous warming-pan in readiness for his Royal Highness's retirement to his couch, and the Reverend Burnaby himself was seated over against an extensive cold supper, which he had considerately ordered, to impress his visiter with a favourable idea of college hospitality.

As the time, however, drew near for his arrival, the worthy Burnaby began to feel sundry misgivings as to his own wisdom in having given the invitation. He knew nothing either of his Royal Highness himself, or of the customs of the country from which he came. Ootaloota was to him, as to Raffleton, an unknown district. All that he had ever heard of his intended guest was through the letters of his brother, the missionary, and they merely stated the Prince's kindness to himself, and intention to visit England. Furthermore, inasmuch as the letter of invitation to stay with him during his visit to Oxford had been answered in the affirmative by his Royal Highness's private secretary, the reverend gentleman was not exactly sure whether his sable guest would be able to converse with him in such language as he would himself be

able to comprehend. Upon the whole, therefore, he began to think he had done rather a silly thing.

"However, it can't be helped now," said the Reverend Burnaby to himself. "I hope he won't stay long. I shall get him off to bed as soon as I can to-night. I wonder what sort of English he speaks. Not much of a hand at that, I take it. Cold beef is a language everybody understands, though, and these pickles are Indian, so they 're quite in his way. Besides, after all, I should like to hear something of my brother. If he brings any interpreters or servants, they must sleep at the Star-that's all. Richard!"

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This invocation was answered by the scout, who appeared most elaborately adorned with a white neckcloth for the occasion.

"Richard," said his master. "I think it will be as well to have two of the college servants to stand with lanterns to light the Prince through the quadrangle."

In the propriety of this arrangement Richard fully acquiesced, and withdrew to execute it. Presently the Reverend James Smiler made his appearance, having been invited to supper, in consideration of his having given up his own rooms for the accommodation of his friend's expected guest; and, furthermore, of his having composed the Latin oration in which the worthy proctor had to propose his Royal Highness for a D.C.L. on the following day. The host now began to feel more

at his ease.

Not long afterwards, a post-chaise drew up before the gates of the College. The porter was all alacrity; the scouts with lanterns rushed forward; and out of the vehicle deliberately descended a stout individual, of a most Oriental appearance, whose dark visage and singular costume at once announced to the submissive menials the expected arrival. The men with the lanterns bowed; and the black gentleman requested, in very tolerable English, to be shown to the Reverend Burnaby Birch's apartments. At the gates stood a knot of undergraduates looking at him.

"This way, your lordship," said the men with the lanterns, and away marched the black gentleman after them across the quadrangle, and was ushered with great state into the presence of the two ecclesiastics.

"I-I am delighted and honoured beyond measure, your Royal Highness," began the Revered Burnaby.

No, sir," said the gentleman in the turban: "I am not the Prince -I am only his interpreter. His Royal Highness has sent me to say he is ill, and unable to come to Oxford till to-morrow morning."

"Indeed, sir," said the Reverend Burnaby; "I am truly sorry. How is that?"

The foreign gentleman proceeded to recount the unfortunate accident which his patron had met with, and his inability to leave his bed that evening.

"Dear me," said the Proctor, "this is unfortunate. I hope, sir, that at all events you will stay with us till his Royal Highness's arrival."

"Thank you, sir," said the interpreter; "I must return to-night." "At any rate you will take some supper, sir," said the Proctor. Why thank you, sir," said the black gentleman; and, after a little persuasion, down he sat. As the meal proceeded, the Reverend

Burnaby began to ask various questions respecting Ootaloota, how long they had been in England, &c. &c. to all of which he received most fluent answers.

"Pray, sir," said the Proctor, "I don't know-perhaps you may remember a brother of mine - a missionary-a Mr. Birch-eh ?—who

was out there?"

"Oh, perfectly, sir," said his guest.

"His Royal Highness was very kind to him, he wrote me word," pursued the Proctor.

"Yes, sir," said the interpreter, who seemed for some reason or other desirous of changing the subject.

"How was he, sir, when you saw him last, may I ask?" said the Reverend Burnaby.

"I believe, sir, he was very well in health," replied the interpreter. "Good gracious! sir, you speak as if something had happened to him which I am not aware of," said the Proctor.

"Oh no, sir," said the interpreter; "nothing particular, I assure you."

"Pray let me know all, sir," said the agonized Burnaby. "Oh, sir, it was nothing

a mere nothing. The fact was, that at first he was a very zealous missionary, and his Royal Highness was very fond of him; but latterly-"

"Yes, sir," said the Proctor; "latterly what?"

Latterly, sir, he took to a more idle course of life. He used to lie on a couch of feathers all day-"

"Feathers!" said the astonished Burnaby.

"Feathers," said the black man, "while two slaves flapped him to sleep with other feathers.

"Flapped him to sleep!" ejaculated Burnaby. active-quiet man!"

"Yes, sir, he altered sadly," said his informant. the talk of all Ootaloota."

"Good heavens!" said the Reverend Burnaby. rious, sir, surely?"

"He was such an

"His seraglio was

"You are not se

"I am, indeed, sir," said the interpreter. "I am very sorry you have asked me, because I know how painful such things are to the feelings; but-"

What he was about to say, or what other tales might have come out of the missionary's delinquencies, can never be known; for just at that moment the scout announced that a man had brought a letter for the Proctor, and wished to speak to him outside.

At this news the interpreter jumped up, and suddenly announced his intention of departing immediately. The Proctor strove in vain to detain him; and, after assuring him that his Royal Hignness would most probably be there in time for the Commemoration, his guest rushed hastily from the room, nearly knocking the man down who was waiting outside.

"Where do you come from?" he heard the Proctor ask.

"Henley, sir," said the man.

"The devil you do!" said Mr. John Raffleton, for he was the interpreter, and he rushed furiously out of the college gates.

What the letter contained, and the result thereof, will be seen hereafter.

INDEX

TO THE SIXTH VOLUME.

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Cœlebs in search of a Cenotaph, 353.
Colin Clink, further particulars respecting
his residence at Miss Sowersoft's, 96.
206. 414; conversation between his
mother and Miss Sowersoft, 424; im-
proves in health at his mother's resi-
dence, and returns to Miss Sowersoft,
528; his advice to Fanny, 534; his in-
terview with Squire Lupton, 626; his
plan for rescuing Fanny's father from
Dr. Rowel's madhouse, 635. 637.
Conqueror's Grandsire, a poem, 271.
Crayon Papers, the, Account of Wolfert's

Roost, 24. 159; Sleepy Hollow, 164.
Crime and its Punishment, see Moral Eco-
nomy of Large Towns.

D.

Dalton, the Abbot's Oak by, 508.
Degrading, the, story of, 381.
Dog Hospital of Paris, account of, 141.
Doge, city of the, 615.

Donne, M. his defence of suicide, 518.
Dullbrainz, Baron von, account of, 316.
Dumalton, Samuel, story of, 450; see
Chelsea Veterans.

Dustmen's Bells, song on the, 428.
Dwarf of Jungfernstieg, story of, 561.

E.

Eden, Vincent, see Vincent.
Edward VI. King of England, his resi-
dence at Hampton Court, 300.
Edwy, King, persecutions of, owing to
his marriage with Elgiva, 158.
Eel-Pie Island, account of, 86.
Elder, A. Tales and Legends of the Isle

of Wight by, 66. 253; a Legend of
Puckaster, 368.

Elgiva, the Queen of King Edwy, her
persecutions by the Clergy, owing to
her marriage with him, 158.

Enchanted Island, or the Adalantado of
the Seven Cities, a legend of St. Bran-
dan, 275.

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