ve me, you know I
hate flattery, on my soul I do; and yet to be sure an intimacy with
the great will improve one's appearance, and a course of venison will
fatten; and yet faith I despise the great as much as you do; but there
are a great many damn'd honest fellows among them; and we must not
quarrel with one half, because the other wants weeding. If they were
all such as my Lord Muddler, one of the most good-natured creatures
that ever squeezed a lemon, I should myself be among the number of
their admirers. I was yesterday to dine at the Duchess of
Piccadilly's, my lord was there. Ned, says he to me, Ned, says he,
I'll hold gold to silver I can tell where you were poaching last
night. Poaching, my lord, says I; faith you have missed already; for I
staid at home, and let the girls poach for me. That's my way; I take a
fine woman as some animals do their prey; stand still, and swoop, they
fall into my mouth."

"Ah, Tibbs, thou art an happy fellow," cried my companion, with looks
of infinite pity, "I hope your fortune is as much improved as your
understanding in such company?"--"Improved," replied the other; "You
shall know,--but let it go no further,--a great secret--five hundred a
year to begin with.--My lord's word of honour for it--his lordship
took me down in his own chariot yesterday, and we had a tete-a-tete
dinner in the country; where we talked of nothing else."--"I fancy you
forget, sir," cried I, "you told us but this moment of your dining
yesterday in town!"--"Did I say so," replied he coolly, "to be sure if
I said so it was so--dined in town; egad now I do remember, I did dine
in town; but I dined in the country too; for you must know, my boys, I
eat two dinners. By the by, I am grown as nice as the devil in my
eating. I'll tell you a pleasant affair about that: We were a select
party of us to dine at Lady Grogram's, an affected piece, but let it
go no further; a secret: well, there happened to be no assafoetida in
the sauce to a turkey, upon which, says I, I'll hold a thousand
guineas, and say done first, that--but, dear Drybone, you are an
honest creature, lend me half-a-crown for a minute or two, or so, just
till--but hearkee, ask me for it the next time we meet, or it may be
twenty to one but I forget to pay you."

When he left us, our conversation naturally turned upon so
extraordinary a character. His very dress, cries my friend, is not
less extraordinary than his conduct. If you meet him this day you