akspeare, and in
the firm hope that your stomach was well disposed to its natural
aliment, assaulted your door with face as brazen as the knocker I
handled. It was Saturday night, and your yellow barouche was waiting at
the door, but I confidently reckoned upon five minutes' conversation
with you, ere you repaired to the evening lecture, to which I concluded
a sober man like you was about to adjourn. While hesitating upon the fit
mode to address you, a figure descended the stairs, which, at first
sight, I mistook for an Alguazil, in a plethora, but upon nearer
approach found to be your worshipful self, posting to the opera, clad in
a great-coat of the newest cut, all fringe and frippery, the offspring
of a German tailor. You and your cloak were so enveloped in frogs and
self-conceit, that I could compare you to nothing but king Pharaoh,
inoculated with a plague greater than any in Egypt, an Italian singer.
After desiring me in a surly tone, to call tomorrow morning, your
worship mounted your vehicle, and scampered away to the region of
recitative. O, cried I, in bitterness of spirit, why has John Bull, my
revered patron, quitted his city residence? in his warehouse he has
bales of cotton in abundance, and might, like the wise Ulysses, stuff
his large and long ears with a portion of that commodity, to enable him
to escape the snares of the Haymarket syren.

Those who have patrons must also have patience. I dissembled my chagrin,
and you may remember, most worshipful sir, that I called the ensuing
day, at two o'clock, to allow you time to ponder on the morning's
service. Alas! I was now fated to be forestalled by a son of France, as
I had before been by a daughter of Italy. Both kingdoms boast the same
emperor, and their natives come hither upon the same embassy. While I
and Shakspeare were kicking our heels in the hall, you and Mons.
Deshayes were kicking yours before a pier glass in the drawing-room. I
had soon the satisfaction to observe your worship endeavouring to
imitate the te-totum pirouettes of that agile gentleman, in doing which
you bore a much stronger resemblance to the dervise in the Arabian Tale,
inasmuch, as after spinning some time, you threw down a purse, which the
wily foreigner, as light of finger as of foot, did not fail to pocket.
This, to be sure was no time for Shakspeare; I, therefore, left your
worship, hoodwinked by the Frenchman, _so turn about three times and
catch whom you may_.

I now spor