OF QUALITY.

_By Lady Morgan._

(_Continued from page_ 318).

Meantime Father Flynn, with a Jesuit's adroitness, was endeavouring to
gain his object, as I afterwards learned; but on alluding to his works
and celebrity, he discovered that the ambassador had never so much
as heard of him, though he had heard wonders of his parrot, which he
requested might be sent for. I was immediately ushered into the cabinet,
as the superior went out, and I never saw my dear master more. Perhaps
he could "bear no rival near the throne;" perhaps, in his preoccupation,
he forgot to reclaim me. Be that as it may, he sailed that night, in
a Portuguese merchantman, for Lisbon; and I became the property of
the representative of his British Majesty. After the first few days of
favouritism, I sensibly lost ground with his excellency; for he was too
deeply occupied, and had too many resources of his own, to find his
amusement in my society. During the few days I sat at his table, I
entertained his diplomatic guests with cracking nuts, extracting the
kernels, peeling oranges, talking broad Scotch and Parisian French,
chanting the "Gloria," dancing "Gai Coco," and, in fact, exhibiting all
my accomplishments. I was, however, soon sent to the secretary's office
to be taught a new jargon, and to be subjected to tricks from the
underlings of the embassy.

Here I picked up but little, for there was but little to pick up.
I learned, however, to call for "Red tape and sealing-wax"--to cry
"What a bore!" "Did you ever see such a quiz?"--to call "Lord Charles,"
"Mr. Henry," and pronounce "good for nothing"--a remark applied by the
young men to the pens, which they flung away by hundreds, and which the
servants picked up and sold, with other perquisites of office incidental
to their calling. Whenever I applied these acquisitions with effect, it
was always attributed to chance; but I was so tormented and persecuted
by Lord Charles and Mr. Henry, who being unpaid _attaches_, had
nothing to do, and helped each other to do it, that I took every
opportunity to annoy them. One day, when the ante-room was filled with
young officers of the British frigate, one of the boobies, pointing to
Lord Charles, called to me, "Poll, who is that?" I answered, "Red tape
and sealing-wax;" and raised a general shout at the expense of the
little diplomatic pedant. An Irish midshipman present, a Mr. O'Gallagher,
pointing to Mr. Henry, asked me, "Who is that, Poll?" "Good for