find
him in rags, if the next in embroidery. With those persons of
distinction, of whom he talks so familiarly, he has scarcely a
coffee-house acquaintance. However, both for the interests of society,
and perhaps for his own, heaven has made him poor, and while all the
world perceive his wants, he fancies them concealed from every eye. An
agreeable companion because he understands flattery, and all must be
pleased with the first part of his conversation, though all are sure
of its ending with a demand on their purse. While his youth
countenances the levity of his conduct, he may thus earn a precarious
subsistence, but when age comes on, the gravity of which is
incompatible with buffoonery, then will he find himself forsaken by
all. Condemned in the decline of life to hang upon some rich family
whom he once despised, there to undergo all the ingenuity of studied
contempt, to be employed only as a spy upon the servants, or a
bug-bear to frighten the children into obedience.

_Goldsmith._

THE TRIFLER'S HOUSEHOLD

I am apt to fancy I have contracted a new acquaintance whom it will be
no easy matter to shake off. My little beau yesterday overtook me
again in one of the public walks, and slapping me on the shoulder,
saluted me with an air of the most perfect familiarity. His dress was
the same as usual, except that he had more powder in his hair, wore a
dirtier shirt, a pair of temple spectacles, and his hat under his arm.

As I knew him to be an harmless amusing little thing, I could not
return his smiles with any degree of severity; so we walked forward on
terms of the utmost intimacy, and in a few minutes discussed all the
usual topics preliminary to particular conversation.

The oddities that marked his character, however, soon began to appear;
he bowed to several well-dressed persons, who, by their manner of
returning the compliment, appeared perfect strangers. At intervals he
drew out a pocket-book, seeming to take memorandums before all the
company, with much importance and assiduity. In this manner he led me
through the length of the whole walk, fretting at his absurdities, and
fancying myself laughed at not less than him by every spectator.

When we were got to the end of our procession, "Blast me," cries he,
with an air of vivacity, "I never saw the park so thin in my life
before; there's no company at all to-day. Not a single face to be
seen."--"No company," interrupted I peevishly; "no company