help." This stroke stunned me a good deal; and
when we had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and
apprehensive of what might come next. He then addressed himself to
Davies: "What do you think of Garrick? He has refused me an order for
the play for Miss Williams, because he knows the house will be full,
and that an order would be worth three shillings." Eager to take any
opening to get into conversation with him, I ventured to say, "O, Sir,
I cannot think Mr Garrick would grudge such a trifle to you." "Sir,
(said he, with a stern look) I have known David Garrick longer than you
have done; and I know no right you have to talk to me on the subject."
Perhaps I deserved this check; for it was rather presumptuous in me, an
entire stranger, to express any doubt of the justice of his
animadversion upon his old acquaintance and pupil. I now felt myself
much mortified, and began to think that the hope which I had long
indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was blasted. And, in truth, had
not my ardour been uncommonly strong, and my resolution uncommonly
persevering, so rough a reception might have deterred me for ever from
making any further attempts. Fortunately, however, I remained upon the
field not wholly discomfited. . . .

I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigour of his conversation,
and regretted that I was drawn {100} away from it by an engagement at
another place. I had, for a part of the evening, been left alone with
him, and had ventured to make an observation now and then, which he
received very civilly; so that I was satisfied that though there was a
roughness in his manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition.
Davies followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a little
of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he kindly took upon
him to console me by saying, "Don't be uneasy. I can see he likes you
very well."

(_Life of Samuel Johnson_.)

SIR WALTER SCOTT 1771-1832

ARRIVAL AT OSBALDISTONE HALL

"There are hopes of you yet," she said. "I was afraid you had been a
very degenerate Osbaldistone. But what on earth brings you to
Cub-Castle?--for so the neighbours have christened this hunting-hall of
ours. You might have staid away, I suppose, if you would?"

I felt I was by this time on a very intimate footing with my beautiful
apparition, and therefore replied in a confidential undertone,--"Indeed,
my dear Miss Vernon, I might have considered