nt of their
acquaintance.

Long Ned and, Paul happened to sit next to each other at supper, and
they conversed together so amicably that Paul, in the hospitality of his
heart, expressed a hope that he should see Mr. Pepper at the Mug!

"Mug,--Mug!" repeated Pepper, half shutting his eyes, with the air of
a dandy about to be impertinent; "ah, the name of a chapel, is it not?
There's a sect called Muggletonians, I think?"

"As to that," said Paul, colouring at this insinuation against the Mug,
"Mrs. Lobkins has no more religion than her betters; but the Mug is a
very excellent house, and frequented by the best possible company."

"Don't doubt it!" said Ned. "Remember now that I was once there, and saw
one Dummie Dunnaker,--is not that the name? I recollect some years ago,
when I first came out, that Dummie and I had an adventure together;
to tell you the truth, it was not the sort of thing I would do now.
But--would you believe it, Mr. Paul?--this pitiful fellow was quite rude
to me the only time I ever met him since; that is to say, the only time
I ever entered the Mug. I have no notion of such airs in a merchant,--a
merchant of rags! Those commercial fellows are getting quite
insufferable."

"You surprise me," said Paul. "Poor Dummie is the last man to be rude;
he is as civil a creature as ever lived."

"Or sold a rag," said Ned. "Possibly! Don't doubt his amiable qualities
in the least. Pass the bingo, my good fellow. Stupid stuff, this
dancing!"

"Devilish stupid!" echoed Harry Finish, across the table. "Suppose
we adjourn to Fish Lane, and rattle the ivories! What say you, Mr.
Lobkins?"

Afraid of the "ton's stern laugh, which scarce the proud philosopher
can scorn," and not being very partial to dancing, Paul assented to the
proposition; and a little party, consisting of Harry Finish, Allfair,
Long Ned, and Mr. Hookey, adjourned to Fish Lane, where there was a
club, celebrated among men who live by their wits, at which "lush" and
"baccy" were gratuitously sported in the most magnificent manner. Here
the evening passed away very delightfully, and Paul went home without a
"brad" in his pocket.

From that time Paul's visits to Fish Lane became unfortunately
regular; and in a very short period, we grieve to say, Paul became that
distinguished character, a gentleman of three outs,--"out of pocket,
out of elbows, and out of credit." The only two persons whom he found
willing to accommodate him with a slight lo