years as the emporium of wit, the seat of
criticism, and the standard of taste.--Names of those who
frequented the house: Foote, Mr. Fielding, Mr. Woodward, Mr. Leone,
Mr. Murphy, Mopsy, Dr. Arne. Dr. Arne was the only man in a suit of
velvet in the dog-days."

Stacie kept the Bedford when John and Henry Fielding, Hogarth,
Churchill, Woodward, Lloyd, Dr. Goldsmith and many others met there
and held a gossiping shilling rubber club. Henry Fielding was a
very smart fellow.

The _Inspector_ appears to have given rise to this reign of the
Bedford, when there was placed here the Lion from Button's, which
proved so serviceable to Steele, and once more fixed the dominion
of wit in Covent Garden.

The reign of wit and pleasantry did not, however, cease at the
Bedford at the demise of the _Inspector_. A race of punsters next
succeeded. A particular box was allotted to this occasion, out of
hearing of the lady of the bar, that the _double entendres_, which
were sometimes very indelicate, might not offend her.

The Bedford was beset with scandalous nuisances, of which the
following letter, from Arthur Murphy to Garrick, April 10, 1768,
presents a pretty picture:

"Tiger Roach (who used to bully at the Bedford Coffee-house because
his name was Roach) is set up by Wilke's friends to burlesque
Luttrel and his pretensions. I own I do not know a more ridiculous
circumstance than to be a joint candidate with the Tiger. O'Brien
used to take him off very pleasantly, and perhaps you may, from his
representation, have some idea of this important wight. He used to
sit with a half-starved look, a black patch upon his cheek, pale
with the idea of murder, or with rank cowardice, a quivering lip,
and a downcast eye. In that manner he used to sit at a table all
alone, and his soliloquy, interrupted now and then with faint
attempts to throw off a little saliva, was to the following
effect:--'Hut! hut! a mercer's 'prentice with a bag-wig;--d---- n
my s---- l, if I would not skiver a dozen of them like larks! Hut!
hut! I don't understand such airs!--I'd cudgel him back, breast and
belly, for three skips of a louse!--How do you do, Pat? Hut! hut!
God's blood--Larry, I'm glad to see you; 'Prentices! a fine thing
indeed!--Hut! hut! How do you do, Dominick!--D---- n