allows it.  (Quotation from Merchant of Venice adapted to occasion—­Restaurant edition—­Portia for two.) It is a cheerful change, it assists the circulation of coin, it is an aid to the solution of the problems of Bimetallism, it rejuvenesces the home-fire-sider, it developes ideas, restores the balance of temper; and, if only the dinner be good, everybody goes away delighted,—­guests are satisfied, the host is pleased, the waiter smiles on the tipper, the tipper on the manager, the manager on the proprietor, and all is Joy and Junketing!  Judge my surprise, when to me, TIBULLUS, entering Frascati, and as Cicerone, informing my friends (all eager and hungry, and therefore unwilling to dispute) how Frascati was the ancient Tusculum, a well-known face appears welcoming us with smiles.  It is Signor HAMPI, better known as Mr. HAMP of Holborn.  “Salve!” quoth I, as TIBULLUS.  “The same to you, Sir,” responds HAMPIUS.  “Now,” said my friend WAGSTAFFIUS, without whom no party is complete, “Now we shall be Hamp-ly satisfied.”

The arrangement of the Frascati is a novelty; it is all so open and, though there are plenty of staffers about, not in the least stuffy.  It would take a considerable crowd to overcrowd the place and to demoralise the troops of well-disciplined waiters, all under the eye of the ever-vigilant generalissimo of the forces, who in his white waist-coat, black tie, and frock-coat of most decided cut and uncompromising character—­there is much in a frock-coat and something too in the wearing of it—­is here, there, and everywhere, and only waiting till the last moment, and the right one, when the banquet is ended, to give the word of command, “Charge!”—­and the charge (decidedly moderate and previously named in the carte du jour) is received with satisfaction and defrayed with delight.

I have only one suggestion to make, and that affects the music not the meal.  Let the music be adapted to the dishes; and not only should the course of time be considered as it progresses, but also the time of the course.  For example,—­who that has an ear for music can swallow oysters deliberately and sedately while the band is playing a mad galop?  Let there be something very slow and pianissimo for the hors d’oeuvres:  something gentle and soothing for the oysters; there can be an indication of heartiness in the melody that ushers in the soup, as though giving it a warm welcome.  There should be a mincing minuet-like movement for the entrees, a sparkling air for the champagne, and something robust for the joint.  A sporting tune for the game:  sweet melody for the sweets, and a grand and grateful Chorale—­a kind of thanksgiving service as it were—­when the last crumb and the last bit of cheese have been swept away.

[Illustration:  “Up I came with my little lot!!”]