m ode; and then for
a few minutes seemed quite exhausted. During this exhibition my friend
Transit was engaged in sketching his portrait, a circumstance that
appeared to give great pleasure to the wife and daughter, who earnestly
requested, if it was published, to be favored with a copy. We had now
become quite familiar with the old man, and went with him to view his
Montem car and Arabian pony, as he called them, in a stable adjoining
the house. On our return, my friend Transit observed that his cart
required painting, and should be decorated with some appropriate emblem.
Herbert appeared to understand the idea, and immediately proceeded to
give us a history of his heraldic bearings, or, as he said, what his
coat of arms should be, which, he assured us, the gentlemen of Eton
had subscribed for, and were having prepared at the Heralds' College in
London, on purpose for him to display next Montem. "My grand-father,"
said Stockhore, "was a hatter, therefore I am entitled to the beaver in
the first quarter of my shield. My grandfather by my mother's side was
a farmer, therefore I should have the wheat-sheaf on the other part.
My own father was a pipe-maker, and that gives me a noble ornament, the
cross pipes and glasses, the emblems of good fellowship. Now my wife's
father was a tailor, and that yields me a goose: those are the bearings
of the four quarters of my shield. Now, sir, I am a poet--ay, the poet
laureate of Montem; and that gives me a right to the winged horse for
my crest. There's a coat of arms for you," said poor Herbert; "why, it
would beat every thing but the king's; ay, and his too, if it wasn't for
the lion and crown." The attention we paid to this whim pleased the poor
creature mightily; he was all animation and delight. But the day was
fast declining: so, after making the poor people a trifling present for
the trouble we had given them, my friend Transit and myself took our
farewell of poor Herbert, not, I confess, without regret; for I think
the reader will perceive by this brief sketch thero is great character
and amusement in his harmless whims. I have been thus particular in my
description of him, because he is always at Montem time an object of
much curiosity; and to every Etonian of the last thirty years, his
peculiarities must have frequently afforded amusement.
~66~~

And when Atropos to the grave
Thy silvery locks of gray shall send,

Etona's sons shall sing thy