; but his country-house is emblazoned all over with those
heraldic decorations. He puts on an order when he goes abroad, and is
Count Bumpsher of the Roman States--which title he purchased from the
late Pope (through Prince Polonia the banker) for a couple of thousand
scudi.

It is as good as a coronation to see him and Mrs. Bumpsher go to Court.
I wonder the carriage can hold them both. On those days Mrs. Bumpsher
holds her own drawing-room before her Majesty's; and we are invited to
come and see her sitting in state, upon the largest sofa in her rooms.
She has need of a stout one, I promise you. Her very feathers must weigh
something considerable. The diamonds on her stomacher would embroider a
full-sized carpet-bag. She has rubies, ribbons, cameos, emeralds, gold
serpents, opals, and Valenciennes lace, as if she were an immense sample
out of Howell and James's shop.

She took up with little Pinkney at Rome, where he made a charming
picture of her, representing her as about eighteen, with a cherub in her
lap, who has some liking to Bryanstone Bumpsher, her enormous, vulgar
son; now a cornet in the Blues, and anything but a cherub, as those
would say who saw him in his uniform jacket.

I remember Pinkney when he was painting the picture, Bryanstone being
then a youth in what they call a skeleton suit (as if such a pig of a
child could ever have been dressed in anything resembling a skeleton)--I
remember, I say, Mrs. B. sitting to Pinkney in a sort of Egerian
costume, her boy by her side, whose head the artist turned round and
directed it towards a piece of gingerbread, which he was to have at the
end of the sitting.

Pinkney, indeed, a painter!--a contemptible little humbug, a parasite
of the great! He has painted Mrs. Bumpsher younger every year for these
last ten years--and you see in the advertisements of all her parties
his odious little name stuck in at the end of the list. I'm sure, for my
part, I'd scorn to enter her doors, or be the toady of any woman.

JOLLY NEWBOY, ESQ., M.P.

How different it is with the Newboys, now, where I have an entree
(having indeed had the honor in former days to give lessons to both the
ladies)--and where such a quack as Pinkney would never be allowed to
enter! A merrier house the whole quarter cannot furnish. It is there
you meet people of all ranks and degrees, not only from our quarter,
but from the rest of the town. It is there that our great man, the Right
Honorable L