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About 9 o'clock more than half of the diners gave unmistakable evidence of their "dining out," and as they dawdled over the work, rather slow progress was m a d e through a lengthy list of toasts. Three "gentlemen of the Press" were sitting together, Messrs. Charles Curr, and T. Warner, of The Argus, and Finn, of the Herald. Amongst the most prominent of the magnates grouped right and left of the Chairman, was Dr. Palmer, then Speaker of the Legislative Council, and when his turn arrived proposed a toast. Amongst others he had tabular returns compiled to demonstrate the present stability and future greatness of Victoria, when M r . Curr, the reporter, jumped up from his seat somewhere in the centre of the feast, and facing the speaker, loudly called him to order. S o m e confusion followed this unseemly interruption, and during a temporary calm, the intruder vehemently protested against the introduction of statistics upon such an occasion. " Figures (exclaimed he) were excellent things when trotted out in proper time and place, but they were altogether out of season and utterly indigestible at such a celebration, from which all such extraneous nonsense should be excluded." A s for Sir Charles Hotham, he looked as if he would like to have the offender on board a man-of-war, whilst Dr. Palmer was so disgusted that he cut short his oratorical swim and brought up m u c h sooner than he intended. O n e of the most laughable melees imaginable occurred at a house-warming once given at an hostelry known as the Commercial Lnn, situated where Rocke and Co.'s large furnishing establishment now stands in East Collins Street. T h e host was a M r . Phillip Anderson, a red-faced, bluff-looking, blunt, good-natured Caledonian. T h e place had recently undergone considerable improvements, the principal being the addition of a large room, and to duly inaugurate the auspicious event, " Phil" s u m m o n e d a gathering of the clans to a free dinner, the liquors to be paid for. T h e invitation was freely responded to, so the place was crowded. Amongst the guests were the then three reporters, Messrs. Corp, Curtis, and Finn for the Patriot, Gazette, and Herald, not for the purpose of enlightening the world with any account of the festivities, but to enjoy themselves as private individuals. After the cloth was removed, the drinking was carried on in such style as almost to put to the blush the great Scotch carousing festival known as the Hogmanay. N o n e of your modern mixtures, no griping "half-and-half," or "two ales," none of the sickening wines then known as "black strap," or "gooseberry," but whisky, brandy, and rum, either "neat," or sparingly attempered with Yarra water. B y io o'clock the place was a roaring intoxicated Bedlam, talking and shouting, and disputing, and amongst those in the most advanced stage of elevation was Curtis. Curiosity as to what was to come enforced a temporary silence, when Curtis, with a most insinuating smile, and with the graceful and gentlemanly manner which he could, when he so wished, assume, informed the Chairman that he was so intensely charmed by the hospitality with which he had been treated by his Scottish fellow colonists on that very pleasant night, he would, if permitted, endeavour to contribute to their enjoyment by treating them to a highly fashionable dance which had caused quite a furore in London just before he had left, and had never, so far as he was aware, been danced in the colonies. But in order that all m a y have an opportunity of beholding the peculiar movements, it would be necessary for him to ascend a table for the purpose. T h e proclamation of a Curtis dance was such an unexpected novelty that the assemblage broke out into thunders of applause, and one of the tables was rapidly cleared of its glassware. Curtis, stripping off his boots, was up in a jiffey, when the applause was renewed with increased vigour, the debutant, if not blushing, indulging in the most profound obeisances and genuflexions. T h e dance in which he was going to exhibit was a Caledonian strathspey, and the instrument he would play on was a Scotch fiddle. H e immediately commenced to cut the most grotesque capers, jumping and kicking, and posturing in a manner unknown to any phase of the Terpsichorean Art, all the time grinding on the "Scotch Fiddle," which was simply working the index finger of the right hand like a fiddle-bow. The excited Scotchmen stared with open mouths and blank amazement, not clearly comprehending the drift of what was going on, many of them dimly fancying that a m a d m a n was playing antics before them. At length Curtis' feet and violin both came suddenly to a full stop, when he burst into a wild fit of horse-laughter, and roared at the highest pitch of voice he could c o m m a n d , " Y o u Scotch loons, you drunken sweeps, down on your marrow-bones, and pray, ' G o d bless the D u k e of Argyle.'"