Irritated at our exclusiveness, and
envious at the reports of the superior talent that circulates nightly at
our table, and which bursts into a halo of genius on our great
saturnalias, what wonder, gentlemen, if the worthy members of our select
club should make enemies out of their own circle? Only 'birds of a
feather flock together,' and perhaps the contempt of our enemies is the
best compliment they can pay us." (Hear, hear! and various shouts and
yells of delight, amid clapping of hands, stamping, and rattling of
glasses.) Here the chairman paused to take breath, and then, after a
preliminary sip at his glass of punch, proceeded. "Gentlemen, I feel duly sensible of the honour conferred upon me this
evening in being selected to preside at our meeting on this very
important occasion, an honour which I feel unable to support, and for
which I feel my abilities so inadequate. (No, no!) Gentlemen, we are a
company of nine this evening, the number of the muses--the omen is
auspicious. I see around me faces that were present at the inauguration
of our club, ten years ago, though others, alas! have gone to their long
rest." Here the speaker was visibly moved, and passed his hand over his
eyes to wipe away an incipient tear. Then, recovering himself, "Need I
proceed, gentlemen? Need I trespass longer upon the time and patience of
guests so illustrious? (Yes, yes!) Then, gentlemen," continued the
speaker, "I would but detain you one moment longer, to propose the
following toast, to be drunk with three times three. (Hear, hear!) 'Long
live the "Wonder Club," and all its choice members.'" Here the
president, at the conclusion of his speech, held a bumper above his
head, and repeated the toast with the rest of the company, with a "Hip,
hip, hip, hurrah!" "May their brains be as fertile as the plains of
Elysium, and may the fame of the 'Wonder Club' spread to the ends of the
earth." This sentiment was followed by a burst of applause. In the midst of the stamping, cheering, and rattling of glasses that
ensued a knock was heard at the door. Who could it be? The landlord? It
was not his wont to disturb the club for a trifle. He only made his
appearance when called for. What was it? Was the inn on fire? Who could
venture to disturb the solemn meeting of the "Wonder Club" on their
tenth anniversary? One of the members rose from his seat and opened the
door ajar, still holding the handle in his hand. "Who is it? What do you want at this hour?" he asked. "I beg pardon, gentlemen," said the voice of the honest landlord
without, "for disturbing the company; but a gentleman has just brought a
letter for the chairman, and I thought it _might_ be important. Leastways, I thought it wouldn't be much harm to deliver it at once. The gentleman has sent in his card. Excuse the interruption, sirs; I
hope no offence." The letter was delivered to Mr. Oldstone. He glanced at the card. "What, a visitor!" he said; "and at this time of night. Let me tell you,
landlord--ahem--that this is a most unwarrantable infringement
of--er--er--of the rules laid down by--er--eh? Stay, what have we here? Excuse me, gentlemen, while I break the seal. Ha! from my old friend
Rustcoin. You remember him, gentlemen--my brother antiquary, formerly a
member of our club. He writes from Rome:

"'MY DEAR FRIEND,--I dare say you are surprised to hear from me again,
after my long silence. The fact is that I had put off writing to you,
having some time ago formed a resolution of returning to England, when I
hoped to surprise you by suddenly appearing unexpectedly in time for the
tenth anniversary of the inauguration of our club. Certain affairs,
however, have prevented me from being present myself in the flesh, but I
beg to introduce to your notice my young friend, Mr. Vandyke McGuilp, an
artist who has for some time past been prosecuting his studies here in
Rome. He is a young man of talent and genius, possessing a great fund of
stories of the marvellous and supernatural order, such as your club
particularly prides itself on. He is quite one of our sort, and you
would be doing me a great favour to introduce him to the rest of the
members. If he could arrive in time for your grand saturnalia, I should
be doubly pleased.--Your old friend,

                                                 "'CHARLES RUSTCOIN.'" "Well, gentlemen," said the president, "what do you say to that? Shall
the neophyte be admitted? You see, he is not a commercial traveller, nor
a business man, but an artist; one of those restless strivers after the
ideal. A traveller, too--a man full of stories, like one of us. What do
you say--shall he be admitted?" The guests gave an unanimous consent, and the next moment our host
ushered the stranger into the club-room. All eyes were directed towards
the stranger. He was a young man, bordering on thirty, about the middle
height, who, contrary to the custom of the period, wore his own hair,
which at that time was considered extremely vulgar. He wore a slouch hat
instead of the usual three-cornered shape, and an Italian cloak thrown
over the left shoulder. He doffed his hat with dignity and courtesy as he entered the apartment,
and after shaking the snow from his cloak (for it had been snowing hard
without that night, being in December), he handed cloak and hat to the
landlord and accepted the offer of a chair that Mr. Oldstone had placed
for him near the fire. "Here! mine host," shouted Mr. Oldstone, "bring another log, and see
that you make this gentleman comfortable to-night, for I see without
asking him any questions that he is one of our set." "Ay, ay, sir," said the landlord, who was just leaving the room. "Never
fear, sir, I'll see to the gentleman's wants, and my old woman will warm
the bed, for it's a nasty night to be out in. My blessed eyes, how it
snows! The gentleman must have had pressing business with you, sir, to
bring him out here such a night as this." "No, my good host," replied the artist; "nothing more than a desire to
be present at the tenth anniversary of the club that I have heard so
much about." The host looked astonished, and the guests felt flattered. The
landlord's respect for the members of the club was augmented
considerably. "Well, well; to think of that, now," he muttered to himself. "To think
that this gentleman should trouble himself to come from who knows how
far off, just to be present at the tenth anniversary of _our_ club, and
on such a night as this, too." "By the by, Mr. Hearty," said the new comer to the landlord: "I believe
that's your name, is it not?" "The same, sir; Jack Hearty, at your service, sir." "Well, then, Jack Hearty, I have just come from foreign parts, where I
have left an old customer of yours; one Mr. Rustcoin, a great friend of
Mr. Oldstone's. Do you recollect him?" "_Recollect_ him!" exclaimed the landlord. "Ay, indeed, sir, do I; a
pleasanter gentleman over his bottle of port or over his bowl of punch
hasn't crossed my threshold since he left it.