f such fortunate people. But "Tom Joneses" and "Bob
Joneses" were no individuals at all. They were classes, and large
classes; and had to be again distinguished into "Little Bob Joneses" and
"Long Bob Joneses." Or if there happened to be nothing sufficiently
characteristic in the personal appearance of the rival Joneses, then was
he fortunate who had no less complimentary additions to his style and
title than what might be derived from the name of his location, or the
nature of his engagements. These honours were often hereditary--nay,
sometimes descended in the female line. We hear occasionally, in
England, of "Mrs Doctor Smith," and "Mrs Major Brown;" and absurd as it
is, one does comprehend by intuition that it was the gentleman and not
the lady who was the ten-year man at Cambridge, or the commandant of the
Boggleton yeomanry; but few besides a Welshman would have learned,
without a smile, that "Mrs Jones the officer" was the relict of the late
tide-waiter at Glyndewi, or that the quiet, modest little daughter of
the town-clerk of B---- was known to her intimates as "Miss Jones the
lawyer." Luckily our friend the Tiger was a bachelor; it would have
been alarming to a nervous stranger at the Glyndewi ball, upon enquiring
the name of the young lady with red hair and cat's eyes, to have been
introduced incontinently to "Miss Jones the tiger."

The Tiger himself was a well-disposed animal; somewhat given to solitary
prowling, like his namesakes in a state of nature, but of most
untiger-like and facetious humour. He generally marched into Glyndewi
after an early breakfast, and from that time until he returned to his
"mutton" at five, might be seen majestically stalking up and down the
extreme edge of the terrace, looking at the fishing-boats, and
shaking--_not_ his tail, for, as all stout gentlemen seem to think it
their duty to do by the sea-side, he wore a round jacket. From the time
that we began our new pursuits, he took to us amazingly--called us his
"dear lads"--offered bets to any amount that we should beat the
B----Cutter Club, and protested that he never saw finer bowling at
Lord's than Hanmer's.

Branling was in delight. He had found a man who would smoke with him all
day, (report said, indeed, that the Tiger regularly went to sleep with a
cheroot in his mouth,) and he had the superintending of "the boat,"
which was his thought from morning to night. A light gig, that had once
belonged to the custom-house, was