"Much obliged to your Lordship," replied Titmouse, in a somewhat different tone from any in which he had ever ventured to address his august companion; for he was beginning to feel confoundedly nettled at the bitter contemptuous manner which the earl observed towards him. He was also not a little enraged with himself; for he knew he had been in fault, and thought of the neglected advice of his tailor. So his natural insolence, like a reptile just beginning to recover from its long torpor, made a faint struggle to show itself—but in vain; he was quite cowed and overpowered by the Presence in which he was, and he wished heartily that he could have recalled even the few last words he had ventured to utter. The earl had observed his presumptuous flippancy of manner, though without appearing to do so. His Lordship was accustomed to control his feelings; and on the present occasion made some effort to do so, for fear of alienating Titmouse from him by any display of offended dignity.
"Sir, it is a very fine day," he observed in a kind manner, after a stern silence of at least five minutes.
"Remarkable fine, my Lord. I was just going to say so," replied Titmouse, greatly relieved; and presently they fell into their usual strain of conversation.
"We must learn to bear these little annoyances calmly," said the earl, graciously, on Titmouse's again alluding to his mishap;—"as for me, sir, a person in the station to which it has pleased Heaven to call me, for purposes of its own, has his peculiar and very grave anxieties—substantial anx"–
He ceased suddenly. The carriage of his old rival, the Earl of Fitz-Walter, passed him; the latter waved his hand courteously; the former, with a bitter smile, was forced to do the same; and then relapsing into silence, showed that the iron was entering his soul. Thus the earl in his own person afforded a striking illustration of the truth of the observation which he had been making to Titmouse. Soon, however, they had entered the scene of splendid hubbub, which at once occupied and excited both their little minds. Without, was the eager crowd, gazing with admiration and awe at each equipage, with its brilliant occupants, that dashed past them:—then the life-guardsmen, in glittering and formidable array, their long gleaming swords and polished helmets glancing and flashing in the sunlight. Within, were the tall yeomen of the guard, in black velvet caps and scarlet uniforms, and with ponderous partisans, lining each side of the staircase—and who, being in the exact military costume of the time of Henry the Eighth, forcibly recalled those days of pomp and pageantry to the well-informed mind of Mr. Titmouse. In short, for the first time in his life, he beheld, and was overwhelmed by, the grandeur, state, and ceremony which fence in the dread approaches to MAJESTY. He was, fortunately, far too much bewildered and flustered, to be aware of the ill-concealed tittering and even laughter which his appearance excited, wherever he went. In due course he was borne on, and issued in due form into the presence chamber—into the immediate presence of Majesty. His heart palpitated; his dazzled eye caught a hasty glimpse of a tall magnificent figure and a throne. Advancing—scarce aware whether on his head or his heels—he reverently paid his homage—then rising, was promptly ushered out through a different door; with no distinct impression of anything that he had witnessed!—'twas all a dazzling blaze of glory—a dim vision of awe! Little was he aware, poor soul, that the king had required him to be pointed out upon his approach, having heard of his celebrity in society; and that he had had the distinguished honor of occasioning to Majesty a very great effort to keep its countenance. It was not till after he had quitted the palace for some time, that he breathed freely again. Then he began to feel as if a vast change had been effected in him by some mysterious and awful agency—that he was penetrated and pervaded, as it were, by the subtle essence of royalty—like one having experienced the sudden, strange, thrilling, potent influence of electricity. He imagined that now the stamp of greatness had been impressed upon him; that his pretensions had been ratified by the highest authority upon earth. 'Twas as if wine had been poured into a stream, intoxicating the tittlebats swimming about in it!—As for me, however, seriously speaking, I question whether anything more than an imaginary change had come over my friend. Though I should be sorry to quote against him language with which I have reason to believe he was not critically acquainted, I cannot help expressing an opinion that Horace must have had in his eye a Roman Titmouse, when he penned those bitter lines —
"Licèt superbus ambules pecuniâ
Fortuna non mutat genus.
—Videsne Sacram metiente te Viam
Cum bis ter ulnaram togâ,
Ut ora vertat huc et huc euntium,
Liberrima indignatio?
—'Sectus flagellis hic triumviralibus
Præconis ad fastidium,
Arat Falerni mille fundi jugera,
Et Appiam mannis terit!'"24
While Titmouse was making this splendid figure in the upper regions of society, and forming there every hour new and brilliant connections and associations—in a perfect whirl of pleasure from morning to night—he did not ungratefully manifest a total forgetfulness of the amiable persons with whom he had been so familiar, and from whom he had received so many good offices, in his earlier days and humbler circumstances. Had it not, however—to give the devil his due—been for Gammon, (who was ever beside him, like a mysterious pilot, secretly steering his little bark amid the strange, splendid, but dangerous seas which it had now to navigate,) I fear that, with Titmouse, it would have been—out of sight out of mind. But Gammon, ever watchful over the real interests of his charge, and also delighted, through the native goodness of his heart, to become the medium of conferring favors upon others, conveyed from time to time, to the interesting family of the Tag-rags, special marks of Mr. Titmouse's courtesy and gratitude. At one time, a haunch of doe venison would find its way to Mr. Tag-rag, to whom Gammon justly considered that the distinction between buck and doe was unknown; at another, a fine work-box and a beautifully bound Bible found its way to good Mrs. Tag-rag; and lastly, a gay guitar to Miss Tag-rag, who forthwith began twang-twang, tang-a-tang-tanging it, from morning to night, thinking with ecstasy of its dear distinguished donor; who, together with Mr. Gammon, had, some time afterwards, the unspeakable gratification, on the occasion of their being invited to dine at Satin Lodge, of hearing her accompany herself with her beautiful instrument while singing the following exquisite composition, for both the words and air of which she had been indebted to her music-master, a youth with black mustaches, long dark hair parted on his head, shirt-collars à-la-Byron, and eyes full of inspiration!
TO HIM I LOVE
1
Affettuosamente.
Ah me! I feel the smart
Of Cupid's cruel dart
Quivering in my heart,
Heigho, ah! whew!
2
With him I love
Allegro.
Swiftly time would move;
With his cigar,
And my guitar,
We'd smoke and play
The livelong day,
Merrily, merrily!
Puff—puff—puff,
Tang-a-tang, tang-a-tang?
3
When he's not near me,
Adagio, et con molto espressione.
O! of life I'm weary—
The world is dreary—
Mystic spirits of song,
Wreathed with cypress, come along!
And hear me! hear me!
Singing,
Teneramente.
Heigho, heigho—
Tootle, tootle, too,
A—lackaday!
Such were the tender and melting strains which this fair creature (her voice a little reedy and squeaking, it must be owned) poured into the sensitive ear of Titmouse; and such are the strains by means of which, many and many a Miss Tag-rag has captivated many and many a Titmouse; so that sentimental compositions of this sort have become deservedly popular, and do honor to our musical and poetical character as a nation. I said that it was on the occasion of a dinner at Satin Lodge, that Mr. Titmouse and Mr. Gammon were favored by hearing Miss Tag-rag's voice, accompanying her guitar; for when Mr. Tag-rag had sounded Mr. Gammon, and found that both he and Titmouse would be only too proud and happy to partake of his hospitality, they were invited. A very crack affair it was, (though I have not time to describe it)—given on a far more splendid scale than Mr. Tag-rag had ever ventured upon before. He brought a bottle of champagne all the way from town with his own hands, and kept it nice and cool in the kitchen cistern for three days beforehand; and there was fish, soup, roast mutton, and roast ducks, roast fowls, peas, cabbage, cauliflowers, potatoes, vegetable marrows; there was an apple-pie, a plum-pudding, custards, creams, jelly, and a man to wait, hired from the tavern at the corner of the hill. It had not occurred to them to provide themselves with champagne glasses, so they managed as well as they could with the common ones—all but Titmouse, who with a sort of fashionable recklessness, to show how little he thought of champagne, poured it out into his tumbler, which he two-thirds filled, and then drank off its contents at a draught! Mr. Tag-rag trying to disguise the inward spasm it occasioned him, by a very grievous smile. He and Mrs. Tag-rag exchanged anxious looks; the whole of their sole bottle of champagne was gone already—almost as soon as it had been opened!
"I always drink this sort of stuff out of a tumbler; I do—'pon my life," said Titmouse, carelessly; "it's a devilish deal more pleasant than sipping it out of wine glasses!"
"Ye-e-s—of course it is, sir," said Mr. Tag-rag, rather faintly. Shortly afterwards, Titmouse offered to take a glass of champagne with Miss Tag-rag!—Her father's face flushed; and at length, with a bold effort, "Why, Mr. Titmouse," said he, trying desperately to look unconcerned—"the—the fact is, I never keep more than a dozen or so in my cellar—and most unfortunately I found this afternoon that six bottles had—burst—I assure you."
"'Pon my soul, sorry to hear it," quoth Titmouse, in a patronizing way; "must send you a dozen of my own—I always keep about fifty or a hundred dozen. Oh, I'll send you half a dozen!"
Tag-rag scarcely knew, for a moment, whether he felt pleased or mortified at this stroke of delicate generosity. Thus it was that Titmouse evinced a disposition to shower marks of his favor and attachment upon the Tag-rags, in obedience to the injunctions of Gammon, who assured him that it continued to be of very great importance for him to secure the good graces of Mr. Tag-rag. So Mr. Titmouse now drove up to Satin Lodge in his cab, and then rode thither, followed by his stylish groom; and on one occasion, artful little scamp! happening to find no one at home but Miss Tag-rag, he nevertheless alighted, and stayed for nearly ten minutes, behaving precisely in the manner of an accepted suitor, aware that he might do so with impunity since there was no witness present; a little matter which had been suggested to him by Mr. Gammon. Poor Miss Tag-rag's cheek he kissed with every appearance of ardor, protesting that she was a monstrous lovely creature; and he left her in a state of delighted excitement, imagining herself the destined mistress of ten thousand a-year—the blooming bride of the gay and fashionable Mr. Titmouse. When her excellent parents heard of what had that day occurred between Mr. Titmouse and their daughter, they also looked upon the thing as quite settled, and were eager in their expressions of gratitude to Providence. In the mean while, the stream of prosperity flowed steadily in upon Mr. Tag-rag, his shop continuing crowded; his shopmen doubled in number:—in fact, he at length actually received, instead of giving payment, for allowing young men to serve a short time in so celebrated an establishment, in order that they might learn the first-rate style of doing business, and when established on their own account, write up over their doors—"Timothy Tape, late from Tag-rag & Co., Oxford Street."
Determined to make hay while the sun shone, he resorted to several little devices for that purpose, such as a shirt-front with frills in the shape of a capital "T," and of which, under the name of "Titties," he sold immense numbers among the Eastern swells of London. At length it occurred to Gammon to suggest to Titmouse a mode of conferring upon his old friend and master a mark of permanent, public, and substantial distinction; and this was, the obtaining for him, through the Earl of Dreddlington, an appointment as one of the royal tradesmen—namely, draper and hosier to the king. When Mr. Tag-rag's disinterested and indefatigable benefactor, Gammon, called one day in Oxford Street, and, motioning him for a moment out of the bustle of his crowded shop, mentioned the honor which Mr. Titmouse was bent upon doing his utmost, at Mr. Gammon's instance, to procure for Mr. Tag-rag, that respectable person was quite at a loss for terms in which adequately to express his gratitude. Titmouse readily consented to name the thing to the great man, and urge it in the best way he could; and he performed his promise. The earl listened to his application with an air of anxiety. "Sir," said he, "the world is acquainted with my reluctance to ask favors of those in office. When I was in office myself, I felt the inconvenience of such applications abundantly. Besides, the appointment you have named, happens to be one of considerable importance, and requiring great influence to procure it. Consider, sir, the immense number of tradesmen there are of every description, of whom drapers and hosiers (according to the last returns laid before Parliament at the instance of my friend Lord Goose) are by far the most numerous. All of them are naturally ambitious of so high a distinction: yet, sir, observe, that there is only one king and one royal family to serve. My Lord Chamberlain is, I have no doubt, harassed by applicants for such honors as you have mentioned."
Hereat Titmouse got startled at the unexpected magnitude of the favor he had applied for; and, declaring that he did not care a curse for Tag-rag, begged to withdraw his application. But the earl, with a mighty fine air, interrupted him—"Sir, you are not in the least presuming upon your relationship with me, nor do I think you overrate the influence I may happen—in short, sir, I will make it my business to see my Lord Ko-too this very day, and sound him upon the subject."
That same afternoon an interview took place between the two distinguished noblemen, Lord Dreddlington and Lord Ko-too. Each approached the other upon stilts. After a display of the most delicate tact on the part of Lord Dreddlington, Lord Ko-too, who made a mighty piece of work of it, promised to consider the application.
CHAPTER X
Within a day or two afterwards, Mr. Tag-rag received a letter from the Lord Chamberlain's office, notifying him that his Majesty had been graciously pleased to appoint him draper and hosier to his Majesty! It occasioned him feelings of tumultuous pride and pleasure, similar to those with which the Earl of Dreddlington would have received tidings of his long-coveted marquisate having been conferred upon him. He started off, within a quarter of an hour after the receipt of the letter, to a carver and gilder a few doors off, and gave orders for the immediate preparation of a first-rate cast, gilded, of the royal arms; which, in about a week's time, might be seen, a truly resplendent object, dazzlingly conspicuous over the central door of Mr. Tag-rag's establishment, inspiring awe into the minds of passers-by, and envy into Mr. Tag-rag's neighbors and rivals. He immediately sent off letters of gratitude to Mr. Titmouse, and to "the Right Honorable, the Most Noble the Earl of Dreddlington;" to the latter personage, at the same time, forwarding a most splendid crimson satin flowered dressing-gown, as "an humble token of his gratitude for his Lordship's mark of particular condescension."
Both the letter and the dressing-gown gave great satisfaction to the earl's valet, (than whom they never got any farther,) and who, having tried on the glistening addition to his wardrobe, forthwith sat down and wrote a very fine reply, in his Lordship's name, to the note which had accompanied it, taking an opportunity to satisfy his conscience, by stating to the earl the next morning that a Mr. Tag-rag had "called" to express his humble thanks for his Lordship's goodness. He was, moreover, so well satisfied with this specimen of Mr. Tag-rag's articles, that he forthwith opened an account with him, and sent a very liberal order to start with. The same thing occurred with several of the subordinate functionaries at the palace; and—to let my reader, a little prematurely, however, into a secret—this was the extent of the additional custom which Mr. Tag-rag's appointment secured him; and, even for these supplies, I never heard of his getting paid. But it did wonders with him in the estimation of the world. 'Twas evident that he was in a fair way of becoming the head house in the trade. His appointment caused no little ferment in that nook of the city with which he was connected. The worshipful Company of Squirt-Makers elected him a member; and on a vacancy suddenly occurring in the ward to which he belonged, for he had a considerable shop in the city also, he was made a common council-man. Mr. Tag-rag soon made a great stir as a champion of civil and religious liberty. As for church and county rates, in particular, he demonstrated the gross injustice and absurdity of calling upon one who had no personal occasion for the use of a church, of a county bridge, a county jail, or a lunatic asylum, to be called upon to contribute to the support of them. A few speeches in this strain attracted so much attention to him, that several leading men in the ward (a very "liberal" one) intimated to him that he stood the best chance of succeeding to the honor of alderman on the next vacancy; and when he and Mrs. Tag-rag were alone together, he would start the subject of the expenses of the mayoralty with no little anxiety. He went to the chapel no longer on foot, but in a stylish sort of covered gig, with a kind of coal-scuttle shaped box screwed on behind, into which was squeezed his footboy, (who, by the way, had a thin stripe of crimson let into each leg of his trousers, upon Mr. Tag-rag's appointment to an office under the Crown;) he was, also, always a trifle later in arriving at the chapel, than he had been accustomed to be. He had a crimson velvet cushion running along the front of his pew, and the Bibles and hymn-books very smartly gilded. He was presently advanced to the honored post of chief deacon; and on one occasion, in the unexpected absence of the central luminary of the system, was asked to occupy the chair at a "great meeting" of the Society for the Promotion of Civil and Religious Discord; when he took the opportunity of declaring his opinion, which was enthusiastically cheered, that the principles of free trade ought to be applied to religion; and that the voluntary system was that which was designed by God to secure the free blessings of competition in spiritual teaching. As for Satin Lodge, he stuck two little wings to it; and had one of the portraits of Tittlebat Titmouse (as Tippetiwink) hung over his drawing-room mantel-piece, splendidly framed and glazed.
Some little time after Tag-rag had obtained the royal appointment, which I have been so particular in recording, Gammon, happening to be passing his shop, stepped in, and observing Mr. Tag-rag, very cordially greeted him; and then, as if it had been a thought of the moment only, without taking him from the shop, intimated that he had been westward, engaged in completing the formal details of a rearrangement of the greater portion of Mr. Titmouse's extensive estates, upon which that gentleman had recently determined, and the sight of Mr. Tag-rag's establishment had suggested to Mr. Gammon, that possibly Mr. Tag-rag would feel gratified at being made a party—for form's sake—to the transaction; as Mr. Gammon was sure that Mr. Titmouse would feel delighted at having associated with the Earl of Dreddlington, and one or two other persons of distinction, in the meditated arrangement, the name of so early and sincere a friend as Mr. Tag-rag; "one who, moreover"—here Gammon paused, and gave a smile of inexpressible significance, "but it was not for him to hint his suspicions"–
"Sir—I—I—will you come into my room?" interrupted Tag-rag, rather eagerly, anxious to have a more definite indication of Mr. Gammon's opinion; but that gentleman, looking at his watch, pleaded want of time, and suddenly shaking Mr. Tag-rag by the hand, moved towards the door.
"You were talking of signing, sir—Have you got with you what you want signed? I'll sign anything!—anything for Mr. Titmouse; only too proud—it's quite an honor to be in any way connected with him!" Gammon, on hearing this, felt in his pockets, as if he supposed that he should find there what he perfectly well knew had been lying ready, cut and dried, in his safe at Saffron Hill for months.
"I find I have not got the little document with me," said he, carelessly; "I suppose it's lying about, with other loose papers, at the office, or I may have left it at the earl's"—[though Gammon's objects required him here to allude to the Earl of Dreddlington, I think it only fair to say that he had never been, for one instant in his life, in that great man's company.]
"I'll tell you what, Mr. Gammon." said Tag-rag, considering—"Your office is at Saffron Hill? Well, I shall be passing in your direction to-morrow, on my way to my city establishment, about noon, and will look in and do all you wish."
"Could you arrange to meet the earl there?—or, as his Lordship's movements are—ah, ha!—not very"–
"Should be most proud to meet his Lordship, sir, to express my personal gratitude"–
"Oh, the earl never likes to be reminded, Mr. Tag-rag, of any little courtesy or kindness he may have conferred! But if you will be with us about twelve, we can wait a little while; and if his Lordship should not be punctual, we must even let you sign first, ah, ha!—and explain it to his Lordship on his arrival, for I know your time is very precious, Mr. Tag-rag! Gracious! Mr. Tag-rag, what a constant stream of customers you have!—I heard it said, the other day, that you were rapidly absorbing all the leading business in your line in Oxford Street."
"You're very polite, Mr. Gammon! Certainly, I've no reason to complain. I always keep the best of everything, both here and in the city, and sell at the lowest prices, and spare no pains to please; and it's hard if"–
"Ah, how do you do?" quoth Gammon, suddenly starting, and bowing to some one on the other side of the way, whom he did not see. "Well, good-day, Mr. Tag-rag—good-day! To-morrow at twelve, by the way?"
"I'm yours to command, Mr. Gammon," replied Tag-rag; and so they parted. Just about twelve o'clock the next day, the latter, in a great bustle, saying he had fifty places to call at in the city, made his appearance at Saffron Hill.
"His Lordship a'n't here, I suppose?" quoth he, after shaking hands with Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon. The latter gentleman pulled out his watch, and, shrugging his shoulders, said with a smile, "No—we'll give him half an hour's grace."
"Half an hour, my dear sir!" exclaimed Tag-rag, "I couldn't stay so long, even for the high honor of meeting his Lordship. I am a man of business, he isn't; first come first served, you know, eh? All fair that!" There were a good many recently engrossed parchments and writings scattered over the table, and from among them Gammon, after tossing them about for some time, at length drew out a sheet of foolscap. It was stamped, and there was writing upon the first and second pages.
"Now, gentlemen, quick's the word—time's precious!" said Tag-rag, taking up a pen and dipping it into the inkstand. Gammon, with an unconcerned air, placed before him the document he had been looking for. "Ah, how well I know the handwriting! That flourish of his—a sort of boldness about it, a'n't there?" said Tag-rag, observing the signature of Titmouse immediately above the spot on which he was going to place his own; there being written in pencil, underneath, the word "Dreddlington," evidently for the intended signature of the earl. "I'm between two good ones, at any rate, eh?" said Tag-rag. Gammon or Quirk said something about a "term to attend the inheritance"—"trustee of an outstanding term"—"legal estate vested in the trustees"—"too great power to be put in the hands of any but those of the highest honor."
"Stay!" quoth Gammon, ringing his little hand-bell—"nothing like regularity, even in trifles." He was answered by one of the clerks, a very dashing person—"We only wish you to witness a signature," said Gammon. "Now, we shall release you, Mr. Tag-rag, in a moment. Say 'I deliver this as my act and deed'—putting your finger on the little wafer there."
So said and so did Mr. Tag-rag as he had been directed; the clerk wrote his name under the witnessing clause, "Abominable Amminadab;" and from that moment Mr. Tag-rag had unconsciously acquired an interest in the future stability of Mr. Titmouse's fortunes, to the extent of some FORTY THOUSAND POUNDS.
"Now, gentlemen, you'll make my compliments to his Lordship, and if he asks how I came to sign before him, explain the hurry I was in. Time and tide wait for no man. Good-morning, gentlemen; good-morning; best regards to our friend, Mr. Titmouse." Gammon attended him to the door, cordially shaking him by the hand, and presently returned to the room he had just quitted, where he found Mr. Quirk holding in his hand the document just signed by Tag-rag; which was, in fact, a joint and several bond, conditioned in a penalty of forty thousand pounds, for the due repayment, by Titmouse, of twenty thousand pounds, and interest at five per cent, about to be advanced to him on mortgage of a portion of the Yatton property. Gammon, sitting down, gently took the instrument from Mr. Quirk, and with a bit of India-rubber calmly effaced the pencilled signature of "Dreddlington."
"You're a ve—ry clever fellow, Gammon!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, presently, with a sort of sigh, and after, as it were, holding his breath for some time. Gammon made no reply. His face was slightly pale, and wore an anxious expression. "It will do now," continued Mr. Quirk, rubbing his hands, and with a gleeful expression of countenance.
"That remains to be seen," replied Gammon, in a low tone.
"Eh? What? Does anything occur—eh? By Jove, no screw loose, I hope?"
"No—but we're in very deep water now, Mr. Quirk"–
"Well—devil only cares, so long as you keep a sharp look-out, Gammon. I'll trust the helm to you! I'll pit you against Old Nick any day, friend Gammon!"
As Gammon did not seem in a talkative mood, Quirk shortly afterwards left him.
Now, though Mr. Tag-rag is no favorite of mine, I begin to feel a good deal of anxiety on his behalf. I wish he had not been in so vast a "hurry," in a matter which required such grave deliberation, as "signing, sealing, and delivering." When a man is called on to go through so serious a ceremony, it would be well if he could be apprised of the significance of the formula—"I deliver this as my act and deed." Thus hath expressed himself upon this point, a great authority in the law, old Master Plowden. 'T is a passage somewhat quaint in form, but not the less forcible and important in substance:—
"Words are oft spoken unadvisedly, and pass from men lightly and inconsiderately; but, where the agreement is by deed, there is more time for deliberation; for when a man passes a thing by deed, first, there is the determination of the mind to do it, and upon that he causes it to be written, which is one part of deliberation; and, afterwards, he puts his seal to it, which is another part of deliberation; and, lastly, he delivers the writing as his deed, which is the consummation of his resolution. So that there is great deliberation used in the making of deeds, for which reason they are received as a lien, final to the party, and are adjudged to bind the party, without examining upon what cause or consideration they were made."25
Possibly some one now reading these pages hath had most dismal experience in the matter above mentioned; and I hope that such dismal experience, a due reflection will avert from many a reader. As for Tag-rag, it may turn out that our fears for him are groundless: nevertheless one hates to see men do important things in a hurry:—and, as we shall lose sight of Mr. Tag-rag for some time, there can be no harm in wishing him well out of what he has just done.
"If it were done when 't is done, then 't were well
It were done quickly"—
and not otherwise.
The London season was now advancing towards its close. Fine ladies were sated and exhausted with operas, concerts, balls, routs, soirées, assemblies, bazaars, fêtes, and the Park. Their lords were getting tired of their clubs during the day, and hurried dinners, late hours, foul air, and long speeches, at the two Houses; where, however they might doze away the time, they could seldom get the luxury of a downright nap for more than an hour or two together—always waking, and fancying themselves in the tower of Babel, and that it was on fire, so strange and startling were the lights and the hubbub! The very whippers-in were looking jaded and done—each being like a Smithfield drover's dog on a Monday night, which at length can neither bark nor bite in return for a kick or a blow, and, hoarse and wearied, falls asleep on his way home—a regular somnambulist. Where the Earl of Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia were to pass their autumn, was a question which they were beginning to discuss rather anxiously. Any one glancing over their flourishing list of residences in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, which were paraded in the Peerages and Court Guides, would have supposed that they had an ample choice before them: but the reader of this history knows better. The mortifying explanation—mortifying to the poor earl—having been once given by me, I shall not again do so. Suffice it to say, that Poppleton Hall, Hertfordshire, had its disadvantages; there they must keep up a full establishment, and receive county company and other visitors—being in arrear with much hospitality. 'Twas expensive work, also, at the watering-places; and expensive and also troublesome to go abroad at the earl's advanced period of life. Pensively ruminating on these matters one evening, they were interrupted by a servant bringing in a note, which proved to be from Titmouse—inviting them, in terms of profound courtesy and great cordiality, to honor Yatton, by making a stay there during as great a portion of the autumn as they could not better occupy. Mr. Titmouse frankly added, that he could not avoid acknowledging some little degree of selfishness in giving the invitation—namely, in expressing a hope that the earl's presence would afford him, if so disposed, an opportunity of introducing his host to any of the leading members of the county who might be honored by the earl's acquaintance; that, situated as Titmouse was, he owned to an increasing anxiety on that point. He added, that he trusted the earl and Lady Cecilia would consider Yatton, while they were there, as in all respects their own residence, and that no exertion should be wanting to render their stay as agreeable as possible. The humble appeal of Titmouse prevailed with his august kinsman; who, on the next day, sent him a letter saying that his Lordship fully recognized the claims which Mr. Titmouse had upon him as the head of the family, and that his Lordship should feel very glad in availing himself of the opportunity which offered itself, of placing Mr. Titmouse on a proper footing of intercourse with the people of the county. That, for this purpose, His Lordship should decline any invitations they might receive to pass their autumn elsewhere, &c. &c. &c. In plain English, they jumped (but as decorously as possible) at the invitation. It had emanated originally from Gammon, who, from motives of his own, had suggested it to Titmouse, bade him act upon it, and had drawn up the letter conveying it. I say, from motives of his own, Gammon was bent upon becoming personally acquainted with the earl, and fixing himself, if possible, thoroughly in his Lordship's confidence. He had contrived to ascertain from Titmouse, without that gentleman's being, however, aware of it, that the few occasions on which his (Gammon's) name had been mentioned by the earl, it had been accompanied by slighting expressions—by indications of even dislike and suspicion. Give him, however, thought he, but the opportunity, and he could very soon change the nature of the earl's feelings towards him. As soon, therefore, as the earl's acceptance of the invitation had been communicated to Gammon, he resolved to be one of the guests at Yatton during the time of the earl's stay—a step, into the propriety of which he easily brought Mr. Quirk to enter, but which he did not, for the present, communicate to Titmouse, lest he should, by prematurely disclosing it to the earl, raise any obstacle, arising out of an objection on the part of his Lordship; who, if he but found Gammon actually there, must submit to the infliction with what grace he might. In due time it was notified on the part of the earl, by his man of business, to Mr. Titmouse, (who had gone down to Yatton,) through his man of business, that the earl, and a formidable portion of his establishment, would make their appearance at Yatton by a named day. The earl had chosen to extend the invitation to Miss Macspleuchan and also to as many attendants as he thought fit to take with him, instead of letting them consume their board wages in entire idleness in town or at Poppleton. Heavens! what accommodation was required, for the earl, for the Lady Cecilia, each of their personal attendants, Miss Macspleuchan, and five servants! Then there were two other guests invited, in order to form company and amusement for the earl—the Marquis Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs, and a Mr. Tuft. Accommodation must be had for these; and, to secure it, Mr. Titmouse and Mr. Gammon were driven to almost the extremities of the house. Four servants, in a sort of baggage-wagon, preceded the arrival of the earl and Lady Cecilia by a day or two, in order to "arrange everything;" and, somehow or another, one of the first things that was done with this view, was to install his Lordship's chief servants in the quarters of Mr. Titmouse's servants, who, it was suggested, should endeavor to make themselves as comfortable as they could in some little unfurnished rooms over the stables! And, in a word, before Mr. Titmouse's grand guests had been at the Hall four-and-twenty hours, there was established there the same freezing state and solemn ceremony which prevailed in the earl's own establishment. Down came at length, thundering through the village, the earl's dusty travelling-carriage and four; himself, Lady Cecilia, and Miss Macspleuchan within, his valet and Lady Cecilia's maid behind: presently it wound round the park road, crashing and flashing through the gravel, and rattling under the old gateway, and at length stood before the Hall door—the reeking horses pulled up with a sudden jerk, which almost threw them all upon their haunches. Mr. Titmouse was in readiness to receive his distinguished visitors; the carriage-door was opened—down went the steps—and in a few moments' time the proud old Earl of Dreddlington and his proud daughter, having entered the Hall, had become the guests of its flustered and ambitious little proprietor. While all the visitors—great and small—are occupied in their dressing-rooms, recovering themselves from the cramp and fatigue of a long journey, and are preparing to make their appearance at dinner, let me take the opportunity to give you a sketch of the only one of them, of the smaller sort, to whom you are at present a stranger: I mean Mr. Tuft—Mr. Venom Tuft.