waiter.

_Youth._ He may know nothing about him, and a waiter's gentleman is
always the man who pays him most.

_Jorrocks._ Trust the waiter for knowing something about him, and if he
doesn't, why, it's only to send a purlite message upstairs, saying that
two gentlemen in the coffee-room have bet a trifle that he is some
nobleman--Lord Maryborough, for instance,--he's a little chap--but we
must make haste, or the gentleman will be asleep.

"Well, then, I'll take your bet of a hat," replied the youth, "that he
is not what I call a gentleman."

_Jorrocks._ I don't know what you calls a gentleman. I'll lay you a hat,
a guinea one, either white or black, whichever you like, but none o'
your dog hairs or gossamers, mind--that he's a man of dibs, and doesn't
follow no trade or calling, and if that isn't a gentleman, I don't know
wot is. What say you, Mr. York?

"Suppose we put it thus--You bet this gentleman a hat that he's a
Meltonian, which will comprise all the rest."

_Jorrocks._ Werry well put. Do you take me, sir? A guinea hat against a
guinea hat.

"I do," said the youth.

_Jorrocks._ Then DONE--now ring the bell for the waiter--I'll pump him.

_Enter waiter._

_Jorrocks._ Snuff them candles, if you please, and bring me another
bottom o' brandy-cold, without--and, waiter! here, pray who is that
gentleman that came in by the Liverpool coach to-night? The little
gentleman in long black gaiters who sat in this chair, you know, and had
some brandy-and-water.

_Waiter._ I know who you mean, sir, quite well, the gentleman who's gone
to bed. Let me see, what's his name? He keeps that large Hotel in----
Street, Liverpool--what's the--Here an immense burst of laughter drowned
the remainder of the sentence.

Jorrocks rose in a rage. "No! you double-distilled blockhead," said he,
"no such thing--you're thinking of someone else. The gentleman hunts at
Melton Mowbray, and travels in his own carriage."

_Waiter_. I don't know nothing about Melton Mowbray, sir, but the last
time he came through here on his road to Bristol, he was in one of his
own rattle-trap yellows, and had such a load--his wife, a nurse, and
eight children inside; himself, his son, and an apple-tree on the
dickey--that the horses knocked up half-way and...

_Jorrocks_. Say no more--say no more--d----n his teeth and
toe-nails--and that's swearing--a thing I never do but on the most
outrageous occasions. Confounded humbug, I'll be upsides with him,