I will always say for Gammon, that, whatever might have been his motive, he strenuously endeavored to urge upon Titmouse the necessity of acquiring, at all events, a smattering of the elements of useful education. Beyond an acquaintance with the petty operations of arithmetic requisite for counter-transactions, I will venture to say that poor Titmouse had no serviceable knowledge of any kind. Mr. Gammon repeatedly pressed him to put himself under competent teachers of the ordinary branches of education; but Titmouse as often evaded him, and at length flatly refused to do anything of the kind. He promised, however, to read such books as Mr. Gammon might recommend; who thereupon sent him several: but a book before Titmouse was much the same as a plate of sawdust before a hungry man. Mr. Gammon, himself a man of considerable acquirements, soon saw the true state of the case, and gave up his attempts in despair and disgust. Not that he ever suffered Titmouse to perceive the faintest indication of such feelings towards him; on the contrary, Gammon ever exhibited the same bland and benignant demeanor, consulting his wishes in everything, and striving to instil into him feelings of love, tempered by respect, as towards the most powerful—the only real, disinterested friend he had! To a very great extent he succeeded.
Titmouse spent several hours in preparing for an effective first appearance at the dinner-table at Alibi House. Since dining at Satin Lodge, he had considerably increased his wardrobe both in quantity and style. He now sported a pair of tight black trousers, with pumps and gossamer silk stockings. He wore a crimson velvet waistcoat, with a bright blue satin under-waistcoat, a shirt-frill standing out somewhat fiercely at right angles with his breast, and a brown dress-coat cut in the extreme of the fashion, the long tails coming to a point just about the backs of his knees. His hair (its purple hue still pretty distinctly perceptible) was disposed with great elegance. He had discarded mustaches; but had a very promising imperial. The hair underneath his chin came out curling on each side of it, above his stock, like two little tufts or horns. Over his waistcoat he wore his mosaic gold watch-guard, and a broad black watered ribbon, to which was attached his eye-glass—in fact, if he had dressed himself in order to sit to a miniature painter for his likeness, he could not have taken greater pains, or secured a more successful result. The only points about his appearance with which he was at all dissatisfied, were his hair—which was not yet the thing which he hoped in due time to see it—his thick red stumpy hands, and his round shoulders. The last matter gave him considerable concern, for he felt that it seriously interfered with a graceful carriage; and that the defect in his figure had been, after all, not in the least remedied by the prodigious padding of his coat. His protuberant eyes, of very light hue, had an expression entirely harmonizing with that of his open mouth; and both together, quite independently of his dress, carriage, and demeanor—(there is nothing like being candid)—gave you the image of a—complete fool. Having at length carefully adjusted his hat on his head, and drawn on his white kid gloves, he enveloped himself in a stylish cloak, with long black silk tassels, which had been lent to him by Snap; and about four o'clock, forth sallied Mr. Titmouse, carefully picking his way, in quest of the first coach that could convey him to Alibi House, or as near to it as might be. He soon found one, and, conscious that his appearance was far too splendid for an outside place, got inside. All the way along, his heart was in a little flutter of vanity, excitement, and expectation. He was going to be introduced to Miss Quirk—and probably, also, to several people of great consequence—as the heir apparent to £10,000 a-year! Two very respectable female passengers, his companions, he never once deigned to interchange, a syllable with. Four or five times did he put his head out of the window, calling out in a loud peremptory tone—"Mind, coachman—Alibi House—Mr. Quirk's—Alibi House—Do you hear, demme?" After which he would sink back into the seat with a magnificent air, as if he had not been used to give himself so much trouble. The coach at length stopped. "Hallibi Ouse, sir," said the coachman, in a most respectful tone—"this is Mr. Quirk's, sir." Titmouse stepped out, dropped eighteenpence into the man's hand, and opening the gate, found himself in a straight and narrow gravel walk, of about twenty yards in length, with little obstinate-looking stunted shrubs on each side. 'T was generally known, among Mr. Quirk's friends, by the name of "the Rope-walk." Titmouse might have entered before as fine-looking a house, but only to deliver a bundle of drapery or hosiery: never before had he entered such an one in the reality of guest. It was, in fact, a fair-sized house, at least treble that of Satin Lodge, and had a far more stylish appearance. When Titmouse pulled the bell, the door was quickly plucked open by a big footman, with showy shoulder-knot and a pair of splendid red plush breeches, who soon disposed of Titmouse's cloak and hat, and led the way to the drawing-room, before our friend, with a sudden palpitation of the heart, had had a moment's time even to run his hands through his hair.
"Your name, sir?" inquired the man, suddenly pausing—with his hand upon the handle of the door.
"Mr. Titmouse!"
"I—beg your pardon, sir; what name?"
Titmouse clearing his throat repeated his name—open went the door, and—"Mr. Ticklemouse," said the servant, very loudly and distinctly—ushering in Titmouse; on whom the door was the next instant closed. He felt amazingly flustered—and he would have been still more so, if he could have been made aware of the titter which pervaded the fourteen or twenty people assembled in the room, occasioned by the droll misnomer of the servant, and the exquisitely ridiculous appearance of poor Titmouse. Mr. Quirk, dressed in black, with knee breeches and silk stockings, immediately bustled up to him, shook him cordially by the hand, and led him up to the assembled guests. "My daughter—Miss Quirk; Mrs. Alderman Addlehead; Mrs. Deputy Diddle-daddle; Mrs. Alias, my sister;—Mr. Alderman Addlehead; Mr. Deputy Diddle-daddle; Mr. Bluster; Mr. Slang; Mr. Hug; Mr. Flaw; Mr. Viper; Mr. Ghastly; Mr. Gammon you know." Miss Quirk was about four or five and twenty—a fat young lady, with flaxen hair curled formally all over her head and down to her shoulders; so that she very much resembled one of those great wax dolls seen in bazaars and shop windows. Her complexion was beautifully fair; her eyes were small; her face was quite round and fat. From the die-away manner in which she moved her head, and the languid tone of her voice, it was obvious that she was a very sentimental young lady. She was dressed in white, and wore a massive gold chain—her fat arms being half covered with long kid gloves. She was sitting on the sofa, from which she did not rise when Titmouse was introduced to her—and the moment afterwards, hid her face behind the album which had been lying on her knee, and which she had been showing to the ladies on each side of her; for, in fact, neither she nor any one else could, without the greatest difficulty, refrain from laughing at the monkeyfied appearance of Titmouse. The alderman was a stout, stupid little man—a fussy old prig—with small angry-looking black eyes, and a short red nose; as for his head, it seemed as though he had just smeared some sticky fluid over it, and then dipped it into a flour-tub, so thickly laden was it with powder. Mr. Deputy Diddle-daddle was tall and thin, and serious and slow of speech, with the solemn composure of an undertaker. Mr. Bluster was a great Old Bailey barrister, about fifty years old, the leader constantly employed by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and was making at least a thousand a-year. He had an amazingly truculent-looking countenance, coarse to a degree, and his voice matched it; but on occasions like the present—i. e. in elegant society—he would fain drop the successful terrors of his manner, and appear the mild, dignified gentleman. He therefore spoke in a very soft, cringing way, with an anxious smile; but his bold insolent eye and coarse mouth—what could disguise or mitigate their expression? Here he was, playing the great man; making himself, however, most particularly agreeable to Messrs. Quirk and Gammon. Slang was of the same school; fat, vulgar, confident, and empty; telling obscene jokes and stories, in a deep bass voice. He sang a good song, too—particularly of that class which required the absence of ladies—and of gentlemen. Hug (Mr. Toady Hug) was also a barrister; a glib little Jewish-looking fellow, creeping into considerable criminal practice. He was a sneaking backbiter, and had a blood-hound scent after an attorney. See him, for instance, at this moment, in close and eager conversation with Mr. Flaw, who, rely upon it, will give him a brief before the week is over. Viper was the editor of the Sunday Flash; a cold, venomous little creature. He was a philosopher—and of opinion that everything was wrong—moral, physical, intellectual, and social; that there was really no such thing, or at least ought not to be, as religion; and, as to political rights, that everybody was equal, and if any were uppermost, all ought to be! He had failed in business twice, and disreputably; then had become an Unitarian parson; but, having seduced a young female member of his congregation, he was expelled from his pulpit. An action being brought against him by the mother of his victim, and heavy damages obtained, he attempted to take the benefit of the Insolvent Debtors' Act—but, on account of Miss–, was remanded for eighteen months. That period he employed in writing a shockingly blasphemous work, for which he was prosecuted, and sentenced to a heavy fine and imprisonment. On being released from prison, saturated with gall and bitterness against all mankind, he took to political writing of a very violent character, and was at length picked up, half starved, by his present patron, Mr. Quirk, and made editor of the Sunday Flash. Is not all this history written in his sallow, sinister-eyed, bitter-expressioned countenance? Woe to him who gets into a discussion with Viper! There were one or two others present, particularly a Mr. Ghastly, a third-rate tragic actor, with a tremendous mouth, only one eye, and a very hungry look. He never spoke, because no one spoke to him, for his clothes seemed rather rusty black. The only man of gentlemanlike appearance in the room was Mr. Gammon; and he took an early opportunity of engaging poor Titmouse in conversation, and setting him comparatively at his ease—a thing which was attempted by old Quirky, but in such a fidgety-fussy way as served only to fluster Titmouse the more. Mr. Quirk gave a dinner-party of this sort regularly every Sunday; and they formed the happiest moments of his life—occasions on which he felt that he had achieved success in life—on which he banished from his thoughts the responsible and dignified anxieties of his profession; and, surrounded by a select circle of choice spirits, such as were thus collected together, partook joyously of the
"Feast of reason, and the flow of soul."
"This is a very beautiful picture, Mr. Titmouse, isn't it?" said Gammon, leading him to the farther corner of the drawing-room, where hung a small picture, with a sort of curtain of black gauze before it. Gammon lifted it up; and Titmouse beheld a picture of a man suspended from the gallows, his hands tied with cords before him, his head forced aside, and covered down to the chin with a white nightcap. 'Twas done with sickening fidelity; and Titmouse gazed at it with a shudder. "Charming thing, isn't it?" said Gammon, with a very expressive smile.
"Y—e—e—s," replied Titmouse, his eyes glued to the horrid object.
"Very striking thing, that—a'n't it?" quoth Quirk, bustling up to them; "'twas painted for me by a first-rate artist, whose brother I very nearly saved from the gallows! Like such things?" he inquired with a matter-of-fact air, drawing down the black gauze.
"Yes, sir, uncommon—most uncommon!" quoth Titmouse, shuddering.
"Well, I'll show you something most particular interesting! Heard of Gilderoy, that was hanged for forgery? Gad, my daughter's got a brooch with a lock of his hair in it, which he gave me himself—a client of mine; within an ace of getting him off—flaw in the indictment—found it out myself—did, by gad! Come along, and I'll get Dora to show it to you!" and, putting Titmouse's arm in his, and desirous of withdrawing him from Gammon, he led him up to the interesting young lady.
"Dora," said Mr. Quirk—"just show my friend Titmouse that brooch of yours, with Gilderoy's hair."
"Oh, my dear papa, 't is such a melancholy thing!" said she, at the same time detaching it from her dress, and handing it to her papa, who, holding it in his hands, gave Titmouse, and one or two others who stood beside, a very interesting account of the last hours of the deceased Gilderoy.
"He was very handsome, papa, wasn't he?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a sigh, and a very pensive air.
"Wasn't bad-looking; but good looks and the condemned cell don't long agree together, I can tell you!—Had many"–
"Ah, papa!" exclaimed Miss Quirk, in a mournful tone, and, leaning back in the sofa, raised her handkerchief to her eyes.
"You are too sensitive, my love!" whispered her aunt, Mrs. Alias, squeezing the hand of her niece, who, struggling against her feelings, presently revived.
"We were looking just now," said Mr. Hug, addressing Mr. Quirk, "at a very interesting addition to Miss Quirk's splendid album—that letter of Grizzlegut."
"Ah, very striking! Value it beyond everything! Shall never forget Grizzlegut! Very nearly got him off! 'T was an '&c.' that nearly saved his life, through being omitted in the indictment. 'Fore gad, we thought we'd got 'em!"
They were alluding to an autograph letter which had been addressed to Mr. Quirk by Grizzlegut, (who had been executed for high treason a few weeks before,) the night before he suffered. He was a blood-stained scoundrel of the deepest dye, and ought to have been hanged and quartered half a dozen times.
"Will you read it aloud, Mr. Hug?" inquired Miss Quirk; and the barrister, with solemn emphasis, read the following remarkable document:—
"Condemned Cell, Newgate,Sunday night, half-past 11 o'clock,30th April, 18—.
"Sir,
"At this awful moment, when this world is closing rapidly upon me and my fellow-sufferers, and the sounds of the wretches putting up the Grim Gallows are audible to my listening ears, and on the morrow the most horrible death that malicious tyrants can inflict awaits me, my soul being calm and full of fortitude, and beating responsive to the call of Glorious Liberty, I feel prouder than the King upon his throne. I feel that I have done much to secure the liberties of my injured country.
'For Liberty, glorious Liberty,
Who 'd fear to die?'
Many thanks to you, sir, for your truly indefatigable efforts on my behalf, and the constant exercise of a skill that nearly secured us a Glorious Acquittal. What a Flame we would have raised in England! That should have blasted the enemies of True Freedom. I go to Hereafter (if, indeed, there be a hereafter), as we shall soon know, not with my soul crammed with Priestcraft, but a Bold Briton, having laid down my life for my country, knowing that Future Ages will do me Justice.
"Adieu, Tyrants, adieu! Do your worst!! My soul defies you!!!
"I am, Sir,
"Your humble, obliged, and
"undismayed servant,
"Arthur Grizzlegut
"To Caleb Quirk, Esq.
"'Tyrants grim,
Will, on the morrow, cut me limb from limb:—
While Liberty looks on with terrible eye,
And says, I will avenge him by-and-by.'
"Arthur Grizzlegut."
The reading of the above produced a great sensation. "That man's name will be enrolled among the Sidneys and the Hampdens of his country!" said Viper, with a grim and excited air. "That letter deserves to be carved on a golden tablet! The last four lines are sublime! They are worthy of Milton! He was a martyr to principles that are silently and rapidly making their way in this country!"—How much farther he would have gone on in this strain, seeing no one present had resolution enough to differ with or interrupt him, even if they had been so disposed, I know not; but fortunately dinner was announced—a sound which startled old Quirk out of a posture of intense attention to Viper, and evident admiration of his sentiments. He gave his arm with an air of prodigious politeness to the gaunt Mrs. Alderman Addlehead, whose distinguished lord led down Miss Quirk—and the rest followed in no particular order—Titmouse arm in arm with Gammon, who took care to place him next to himself (Gammon). It was really a dashing sort of dinner—such, indeed, as Mr. Quirk had long been celebrated for. Titmouse had never seen anything like it, and was quite bewildered—particularly at the number of differently shaped and colored glasses, &c. &c. &c., appropriated to his individual use! He kept a constant eye on the movements of Gammon, and did whatever he did (the two appearing moved by the same set of springs), and was thus saved not a few embarrassments and annoyances. What chiefly struck his attention was a prodigious number of dishes, great and small, as if half a dozen dinners had been crowded into one; the rapidity with which they were changed, and plates removed, in constant succession; the incessant invitations to take wine, flying about during the whole of dinner. For a considerable while he was too much flurried to enjoy himself; but a few glasses of champagne succeeded in elevating his spirits to the proper pitch—and (had he not been checked) would soon have driven them far beyond it. Almost everybody, except the great folk at the very top of the table, asked him to take wine; and on every such occasion he filled his glass. In fact Gammon, recollecting a scene at his own chamber, soon perceived that, unless he interfered, Titmouse would be drunk long before dinner was over. That gentleman had not imagined the earth to contain so exquisite a drink as champagne; and he could have fallen down and worshipped it, as it came fizzing and flashing out of the bottle. Gammon earnestly assured him that he would be ill if he drank so much—that many eyes were upon him—and that it was not the custom to do more than merely sip from his wine-glass when challenging or challenged. But Titmouse had taken a considerably greater quantity on board, before Gammon thus interfered, than that gentleman was aware of; and began to get very confident and voluble. Guess the progress he had made, when he called out with a confident air—"Mr. Alderman! Your health!"—whether more to that great man's astonishment, or disgust, I cannot undertake to say: but after a steady stare for a moment or two at Titmouse, "Oh! I shall be very happy, indeed, Mr. Gammon," he called out, looking at the latter gentleman, and drinking with him. That signified nothing, however, to Titmouse, who, indeed, did not see anything at all pointed or unusual, and nodding confidently to the alderman, gulped down his wine as eagerly as before.
"Cool puppy, that, Miss Quirk, must say," snuffled the offended alderman, to Miss Quirk.
"He's young, dear Mr. Alderman," said she, sweetly and mildly—"and when you consider the immense fortune he is coming into—ten thousand a-year, my papa says"–
"That don't make him less a puppy—nor a brute," interrupted the ruffled alderman, still more indignant; for his own forty thousand pounds, the source of all his social eminence, sank into insignificance at the sound of the splendid income just about to drop into the lap of Titmouse. Mr. Bluster, who headed the table on Miss Quirk's left hand side, and who felt that he ought to be, but knew that in the presence of the alderman he was not, the great man of the day, observing the irritation under which his rival was suffering, resolved to augment it as much as possible: wherefore he immediately raised his threatening double-glasses to his eyes, and in a tone of ostentatious condescension, looking down the table to Titmouse, called out, "Mr. Titmash—may I have the honor of drinking wine with you?"
"Ya—as, brother Bumptious," replied Titmouse, (who could never bear to hear his name mispronounced,) and raised his glass to his eye; "was just going to ask you!" All this was done in such a loud and impudent tone and manner, as made Gammon still more uneasy for his young companion. But his sally had been received by the company as a very smart retort, and produced a roar of laughter, every one being glad to see Mr. Bluster snubbed, who bore it in silent dignity, though his face showed his chagrin and astonishment; and he very heartily agreed, for once in his life, with the worshipful person opposite to him, in his estimate of our friend Titmouse. "Mr. Titmouse! Mr. Titmouse! my daughter wonders you won't take wine with her," said Mr. Quirk, in a low tone—"will you join us? we're going to take a glass of champagne."
"Oh! 'pon my life—delighted"—quoth Titmouse.
"Dora, my dear! Mr. Titmouse will take wine with you!—Jack," (to the servant,) "fill Miss Quirk's and Mr. Titmouse's glasses to the brim."
"Oh no! dearest papa– gracious!" she exclaimed, removing her glass.
"Pho! pho!—nonsense—the first time of asking, you know, ah, ha!"
"Well! If it must be," and with what a graceful inclination—with what a sly searching glance, and fascinating smile, did she exchange courtesies with Titmouse! He felt disposed to take wine with her a second time immediately; but Gammon restrained him. Mr. Toady Hug, having become acquainted with the brilliant prospects of Titmouse, earnestly desired to exert his little talents to do the agreeable, and ingratiate himself with Mr. Titmouse; but there was a counteracting force in another direction—viz. the attorney, Mr. Flaw, who had the greatest practice at the Clerkenwell sessions; who sat beside him and received his most respectful and incessant attentions; Hug speaking ever to him in a low confidential whisper, constantly casting a furtive glance towards Bluster and Slang, to see whether they were observing him. In "strict confidence" he assured Mr. Flaw how his case, the other day, might have been won, if such and such a course had been adopted, "which would have been the line he" (Hug) "would have taken;" and which he explained with anxious energy. "I must say, (but don't mention it!) that Mr. Flip regularly threw the case away—no doubt of it! By the way, what became of that burglary case of yours, on Friday, Mr. Flaw? Uncommonly interesting case!"
"Found guilty, poor fellows!"
"You don't say so?"
"Fact, by Jove, though!"
"How could Mr. Gobble have lost that verdict? I assure you I would have bet ten to one on your getting a verdict; for I read over your brief as it lay beside me, and upon my honor, Mr. Flaw, it was most admirably got up. Everything depends on the brief"–
"Glad you thought so, sir," replied Flaw, wondering how it was that he had never before thought of giving a brief to Mr. Hug.
"It's a great mistake of counsel," quoth Hug, earnestly—"not to pay the utmost attention to their briefs! For my part," he continued in a lower tone, "I make a point of reading every syllable in my brief, however long it is!"
"It's the only way, depend on it, sir. We attorneys, you know, see and know so much of the case, conversing confidentially with the prisoners"–
"Ay, and beyond that—Your practical suggestions, my dear sir, are often– Now, for instance, in the brief I was alluding to, there was, I recollect—one most—uncommonly acute suggestion"–
"Sir—you're uncommonly flattering! Am particularly obliged to you! May I ask, what it was that struck you?"—inquired the attorney, briskly, his countenance showing the progress of Hug's lubricating process.
"Oh—why—a—a—hem!" stammered Hug, somewhat nonplussed—(for his little fiction had been accepted as a fact!) "No; it would hardly be fair to Gobble, and I'm sorry indeed"–
"Well, well—it can't be helped now—but I must say that once or twice latterly I've thought, myself, that Mr. Gobble has rather– By the way, Mr. Hug, shall you be in town this week, till the end of the sessions?"
"Ye—e—s!" hastily whispered Hug, after glancing guiltily towards his brethren, who, though they did not seem to do so, were really watching him with ill-subdued fury.
"I'm happy to hear it!—You've heard of Aaron Doodle, who was committed for that burglary at–? Well, I defend him, and shall be happy to give you the brief. Do you lead Mr. Dolt?" Hug nodded. "Then he will be your junior. Where are your chambers, Mr. Hug?"
"No. 4, Cant Court, Gray's Inn. When, my dear sir, does the case come on?"
"Thursday—perhaps Wednesday."
"Then do come and breakfast with me," quoth Hug, in a whisper—"and we can talk it over, you know, so nicely together!"
"Sir, you're very polite. I will do myself the pleasure"—replied Mr. Flaw– and good-naturedly took wine with Mr. Hug.
This little stroke of business over, the disengaged couple were at liberty to attend to the general conversation of the table. Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang kept the company in almost a constant roar, with descriptions of scenes in court, in which they had, of course, been the principal actors; and according to their own accounts they must have been wonderful fellows. Such botherers of judges—particularly aldermen and police magistrates!—Such bafflers and browbeaters of witnesses!—Such bamboozlers of juries!
You should have seen the sneering countenance of Hug all the while. He never once smiled or laughed at the brilliant sallies of his brethren, and did his best to prevent his new patron, Mr. Flaw, from doing so—constantly putting his hand before his mouth, and whispering into Mr. Flaw's ear at the very point of the joke or story—and the smile would disappear from the countenance of Mr. Flaw.
The alderman laughed till the tears ran out of his little eyes, which he constantly wiped with his napkin! Amid the general laughter and excitement, Miss Quirk, leaning her chin on her hand, her elbow resting on the table, several times directed soft, languishing looks towards Titmouse, unobserved by any one but himself; and they were not entirely unsuccessful, although Titmouse was wonderfully taken with the stories of the two counsellors, and believed them to be two of the greatest men he had ever seen or heard of, and at the head of their profession.
"'Pon my soul—I hope, sir, you'll have those two gents in my case?" said he, earnestly, to Gammon.
"Unfortunately, your case will not come on in their courts," said Gammon, with a very expressive smile.
"Why, can't it come on where I choose?—or when you like?" inquired Titmouse, surprisedly.
Mr. Quirk had been soured during the whole of dinner, for he had anxiously desired to have Titmouse sit beside him at the bottom of the table; but in the little hubbub attendant upon coming down to dinner and taking places, Titmouse slipped out of sight for a minute; and when all were placed, Quirk's enraged eye perceived him seated in the middle of the table, beside Gammon. Gammon always got hold of Titmouse!—Old Quirk could have flung a decanter at his head.—In his own house!—at his own table! Always anticipating and circumventing him.
"Mr. Quirk, I don't think we've taken a glass of wine together yet, have we?" said Gammon, blandly and cordially, at the same time pouring one out for himself. He perfectly well knew what was annoying his respected partner, whose look of quaint embarrassment, when so suddenly assailed, infinitely amused him. "Catch me asking you here again, Master Gammon," thought Quirk, "with Titmouse!" The reason why Mr. Snap had not been asked was, that Quirk had some slight cause to suspect his having presumptuously conceived the notion of paying his addresses to Miss Quirk—a thing at any time not particularly palatable to Mr. Quirk; but in the present conjuncture of circumstances quite out of the question, and intolerable even in idea. Snap was not slow in guessing the reason of his exclusion, which had greatly mortified, and also not a little alarmed him. As far as he could venture, he had, during the week, endeavored to "set" Titmouse "against" Miss Quirk, by such faint disparaging remarks and insinuations as he dared venture upon with so difficult a subject as Titmouse, whom he at the same time inflamed by representations of the splendid matches he might very soon command among the highest women of the land. By these means Snap had, to a certain extent, succeeded; but the few melting glances which had fallen upon Titmouse's sensitive bosom from the eyes of Miss Quirk, were beginning to operate a slight change in his feelings. The old alderman, on an intimation that the "ladies were going to withdraw," laid violent hands on Miss Quirk, (he was a "privileged" old fool,) and insisted on her singing his favorite song—"My Friend and Pitcher"!! His request was so warmly seconded by the rest of the company—Titmouse loud and eager as any—that she was fain to comply. She sang with some sweetness, and much self-possession; and carried Titmouse's feelings along with her from the beginning, as Gammon, who was watching him, perceived.
"Most uncommon lovely gal, isn't she?" whispered Titmouse, with great vivacity.
"Very!" replied Gammon, dryly, with a slight smile.
"Shall I call out encore? A'n't that the word? 'pon my soul, most lovely gal! She must sing it again!"
"No, no—she wishes to go—'tis not usual: she will sing it for you, I dare say, this evening, if you ask her."
"Well—most charming gal!—Lovely!"–
"Have patience, my dear Titmouse," said Gammon, in a low whisper, "in a few months' time you'll soon be thrown into much higher life than even this—among really beautiful, and rich, and accomplished women"—[and, thought Gammon, you'll resemble a monkey that has found his way into a rich tulip-bed!]