succeeded admirably in
deceiving your friends, for it was my conviction that your hair curled
naturally."

"Yes, naturally, every night," returned the poet; "but do not, my dear
Scrope, let the cat out of the bag, for I am as vain of my curls as a
girl of sixteen."

When in London, Byron used to go to Manton's shooting-gallery, in Davis
street, to try his hand, as he said, at a wafer. Wedderburn Webster
was present when the poet, intensely delighted with his own skill,
boasted to Joe Manton that he considered himself the best shot in
London. "No, my lord," replied Manton, "not the best; but your
shooting, to-day, was respectable;" upon which Byron waxed wroth, and
left the shop in a violent passion.

Lords Byron, Yarmouth, Pollington, Mountjoy, Walliscourt, Blandford,
Captain Burges, Jack Bouverie, and myself, were in 1814, and for
several years afterwards, amongst the chief and most constant
frequenters of this well-known shooting-gallery, and frequently shot at
the wafer for considerable sums of money. Manton was allowed to enter
the betting list, and he generally backed me. On one occasion, I hit
the wafer nineteen times out of twenty.

Byron lived a great deal at Brighton, his house being opposite the
Pavilion. He was fond of boating, and was generally accompanied by a
lad, who was said to be a girl in boy's clothes. This report was
confirmed to me by Webster, who was then living at Brighton. The vivid
description of the page in Lara, no doubt, gave some plausibility to
this often-told tale. I myself witnessed the dexterous manner in which
Byron used to get into his boat; for, while standing on the beach, I
once saw him vault into it with the agility of a harlequin, in spite of
his lame foot.

On one occasion, whilst his lordship was dining with a few of his
friends in Charles Street, Pall Mall, a letter was delivered to Scrope
Davis, which required an immediate answer. Scrope, after reading its
contents, handed it to Lord Byron. It was thus worded:--

"MY DEAR SCROPE,--Lend me 500L. for a few days; the funds are shut for
the dividends, or I would not have made this request.

"G. BRUMMELL."

The reply was:--

"My DEAR BRUMMELL,--All my money is locked up in the funds.

"SCROPE DAVIS."

This was just before Brummell's escape to the Continent.

I have frequently asked Scrope Davis his private opinion of Lord Byron,
and invariably received the same answer--that he considered Lord Byron
v