the skreand, was persnly abliged to come in.

"Charles," says master, "I have been telling these gentlemen who is the
author of the 'Yellowplush Correspondence' in Fraser's Magazine."

"It's the best magazine in Europe," says the duke.

"And no mistake," says my lord.

"Hwhat!" says Larner; "and where's the Litherary Chran?"

I said myself nothink, but made a bough, and blusht like
pickle-cabbitch.

"Mr. Yellowplush," says his grace, "will you, in the first place, drink
a glass of wine?"

I boughed agin.

"And what wine do you prefer, sir? humble port or imperial burgundy?"

"Why, your grace," says I, "I know my place, and ain't above kitchin
wines. I will take a glass of port, and drink it to the health of this
honrabble compny."

When I'd swigged off the bumper, which his grace himself did me the
honor to pour out for me, there was a silints for a minnit; when my
master said:--

"Charles Yellowplush, I have perused your memoirs in Fraser's Magazine
with so much curiosity, and have so high an opinion of your talents as a
writer, that I really cannot keep you as a footman any longer, or allow
you to discharge duties for which you are now quite unfit. With all my
admiration for your talents, Mr. Yellowplush, I still am confident that
many of your friends in the servants'-hall will clean my boots a great
deal better than a gentleman of your genius can ever be expected to
do--it is for this purpose I employ footmen, and not that they may be
writing articles in magazines. But--you need not look so red, my good
fellow, and had better take another glass of port--I don't wish to throw
you upon the wide world without the means of a livelihood, and have made
interest for a little place which you will have under government, and
which will give you an income of eighty pounds per annum; which you can
double, I presume, by your literary labors."

"Sir," says I, clasping my hands, and busting into tears, "do not--for
heaven's sake, do not!--think of any such think, or drive me from your
suvvice, because I have been fool enough to write in magaseens. Glans
but one moment at your honor's plate--every spoon is as bright as a
mirror; condysend to igsamine your shoes--your honor may see reflected
in them the fases of every one in the company. I blacked them shoes, I
cleaned that there plate. If occasionally I've forgot the footman in
the litterary man, and committed to paper my remindicences of fashnabble
life, it was from