“Among the fine London Houses where I teach the language of my native country,” said the Professor, rushing into his long-deferred explanation without another word of preface, “there is one, mighty fine, in the big place called Portland. You all know where that is? Yes, yes⁠—course-of-course. The fine house, my good dears, has got inside it a fine family. A Mamma, fair and fat; three young Misses, fair and fat; two young Misters, fair and fat; and a Papa, the fairest and the fattest of all, who is a mighty merchant, up to his eyes in gold⁠—a fine man once, but seeing that he has got a naked head and two chins, fine no longer at the present time. Now mind! I teach the sublime Dante to the young Misses, and ah!⁠—my-soul-bless-my-soul!⁠—it is not in human language to say how the sublime Dante puzzles the pretty heads of all three! No matter⁠—all in good time⁠—and the more lessons the better for me. Now mind! Imagine to yourselves that I am teaching the young Misses today, as usual. We are all four of us down together in the Hell of Dante.