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Then arose the genius of the party and propounded a scheme which made us all cavort with delight (I have said that we were full fed). He proposed that our quartette should advance upon the first house in that utterly silent square, one member carrying the glass container, another the cover, while the other two ascended the steps under the portico and seized, one the knocker, and the other the bell. Then at a given signal the glass must be hurled at the front of the house, the knocker banged, the bell pulled as hard as might be, and—flight. This was at ten p.m.

The instructions were carried out to the foot of the letter; and never, not in a mutiny on board ship, or a coolie riot, have I heard so infernal a row or seen so sudden an upheaval of temporarily mad people. We four were also suddenly frantic, and in our mad flight up Kildare Terrace, assisted the tumult by snatching at the bells at the garden gates as we ran. But on arriving in the Talbot Road, breathless, we halted, and alter a brief consultation, decided that we would return and view the result. We did, and we were completely satisfied. The gardens were full of people, each with a different theory, and the majority clad in strange garb. We circulated and enjoyed ourselves listening. But gradually the concourse melted away; and we, quite happy, stole off to our various lairs.