The Sun.
London, England, 1864-04-26 00:00:00

stored up in as marvellous abundance, considering
the narrowness of the space, as even the bulk of
the Geni who was stowed away in the brass pot
fished up out of the great deep by the Arabian
fisherman. Here then is a fragment of the record
preserved to:us by Mr. Meredith :in regard to—
Tom Breeks stuck in the mud with the Bundle of
Sticks I

A cry of "Bundle o' sticks, Tom Weeks. Don't let
slip 'bout bundle o' sticks," pulled spokesman up short.
Ho turned hurriedly to say, "All right," and inflated hie
chest to do justice to the illustration of the faggots of
Xsop! but Mr. Torn Breeks had either taken In too much
air, or the ale that had hitherto successfully prompted him
was antipathetic to the nice delicacy of an apologue; for
now his arm began to work and his forehead had to be
mopped, and ho lashed the words "Union and Harmony"
right and left, until, coming on a sentence that sounded in
his ears like the close of his speech, he stared ahead, with a
Rios idea that ho had missed a point. "Bundle o' sticks,"
lustily shouted, revived his apprehensicn: but the sole
effect was to make him 'ook on the ground and lift his hat
on the point of a perplexed finger. He could not conceive
how the bundle of sticks was to be brought in now ; or
what to say concerning them. Union and Harmony :
what more could be said ? Mr. Tom Breeks tried a re-
monstrance with his backers. He declared to them that
he had finished, and had brought in the Bundle. They
replied that they had not heard it; that the Bundle was the
foundation-sentiment of the Club; the first sentiment after
the Crown ; and that he must go on till the Bundle had
been brought in. Hereat, the unhappy man faced Squire
Pole again. It was too abject a position for an gnglish-
man to endure. Torn Breeks cast his hat to earth. " I'm
dashed if I can bring in the Bundle I"

Hardly anyone who his n't read the the context
can conjecture the fun there is, moreover—the rare,
bright-eyed fun sunning every syllable of the fol-
lowing record by our novelist of the way in which
the rival club carry off, with cheers, and a march,
and an impromptu parody, the sense of having been
outwitted by Tom B reeks and his fellows: out witte
that is in obtaining largess (otherwise beer money)
from Mr.-Pole on the lawn at Brookfield. Uncon-
scious of having been anticicipated or forestalled—

Their case was stated : whereupon Mr. Pole told them
that he had just been " milked," and regretted it, but re-
quested them to see that he could not possibly be equal to
any second proceeding of the sort. On their turning to
consult together, he advised them to bear it with fortitude.
" All right, sit 1" they said : and a voice from the ranks
informed him that their word was " Jolly." Then a signal
was given, and these indomitable fellows cheered the lord
of Brookfield se lustily as if they had accomplished the feat
of milking him twice in an hour. Their lively hurrahs set
him blinking in extreme discomposure of spirit, and he was
fumbling at his pocket, when the drum a little precipitately
thumped : the ranks fell into order, and the departure was
led by the tune of the "King of the Cannibal Islands :"
a tune that is certain to create a chorus on the march. On
this occasion, the line :