e Caricaturists,{1} and was generally known in the circles
of High Life, by his attendance on the first families on behalf of his
father.

But perhaps the most remarkable circumstance took place at his deceased
parent's funeral. Being so reduced at that time as to have no power even
of providing the necessary apparel to manifest the respect, gratitude,
and affection, he had ever entertained for the author of his being;
and as a natural son has no legal claims upon his father, so naturally
nothing was left for him; he applied by letter to the legitimates for a
suit of mourning, and permission to attend the remains of their common
father to the last receptacle of mortality, which being peremptorily
refused, he raised a subscription, obtained clothing, with a gown and
hatband, and, as the melancholy procession was moving to the parish
church, which was but a few yards distance, he rushed from his
hiding-place, stationed himself immediately in the front of the other
attendants upon the occasion, and actually accompanied the corpse as
chief mourner, having previously concerted with his own mother to be
upon the spot. When the body was deposited in the vault, he took her
by the hand, led her down the steps, and gave some directions to the
bearers as to the situation of the coffin, while the other mourners,
panic-struck at the extraordinary circumstances in which they found
themselves, turned about and walked in mournful silence back, ruminating
on the past with amazement, and full of conjecture for the future.

1 A caricature of a similar nature to the one alluded to by
Dashall in this description, was certainly exhibited at the
time of the memorable 0. P. row, which exhibited a young man
of genteel appearance in the pit of Covent Garden Theatre,
addressing the audience. It had inscribed at the bottom
of it,

Is this Barber-Ross-a?

in allusion (no doubt) to the tragedy of Barbarossa.

~59~~"It was an extraordinary situation for all parties," said Bob; "but
hold, who have we here?--Egad! there is an elegant carriage drawn up to
the door; some Lord, or Nobleman, I'll be bound for it--We can't be seen
in this deshabille, I shall make my escape." And saying this, he was
hastening out of the room.

"Ha! ha! ha!" exclaimed Tom, "you need not be so speedy in your flight.
This is one of the fashionable requisites of London, with whom you
must also become acquainted; there is no