e, with large tassels, completed
the rigging of this borough dandy. Altogether he was as fine as any
peacock, and as vain as the proudest.

"And 'ow is Mrs. J----?" inquired Green with the utmost affability--"I
hopes she's uncommon well--pray, is she of your party?" looking round.
"Why, no," replied Mr. Jorrocks, "she's off at Tooting at her mother's,
and I'm just away, on the sly, to stay a five-pound at Margate this
delightful weather. 'Ow long do you remain?" "Oh, only till Monday
morning--I goes every Saturday; in fact," added he in an undertone,
"I've a season ticket, so I may just as well use it, as stay poking in
Tooley Street with the old folks, who really are so uncommon glumpy,
that it's quite refreshing to get away from them."

"That's a pity," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with one of his benevolent looks.
"But 'ow comes it, James, you are not married? You are not a bouy now,
and should be looking out for a home of your own." "True, my dear
J----, true," replied Mr. Green; "and I'll tell you wot, our principal
book-keeper and I have made many calculations on the subject, and being
a man of literature like yourself, he gave it as his opinion the last
time we talked the matter over, that it would only be avoiding Silly and
running into Crab-beds; which I presume means Quod or the Bench. Unless
he can have a wife 'made to order,' he says he'll never wed. Besides,
the women are such a bothersome encroaching set. I declare I'm so
pestered with them that I don't know vich vay to turn. They are always
tormenting of me. Only last week one sent me a specification of what
she'd marry me for, and I declare her dress, alone, came to more than I
have to find myself in clothes, ball-and concert-tickets, keep an 'oss,
go to theatres, buy lozenges, letter-paper, and everything else with.
There were bumbazeens, and challies, and merinos, and crape, and gauze,
and dimity, and caps, bonnets, stockings, shoes, boots, rigids, stays,
ringlets; and, would you believe it, she had the unspeakable audacity to
include a bustle! It was the most monstrous specification and proposal
I ever read, and I returned it by the twopenny post, axing her if she
hadn't forgotten to include a set of false teeth. Still, I confess, I'm
tired of Tooley Street. I feel that I have a soul above hemp, and was
intended for a brighter sphere; but vot can one do, cooped up at home
without men of henergy for companions? No prospect of improvement
either; for I left o