and when he recovered his legs, he was again struck, and called 'a b——yCharley,' and other ungenteel names. He called for the assistance of some of his brethren, and the defendants were with some trouble taken to the watch-house. They were very jolly on the way, and when lodged in durance, amused themselves with abusing the Constable of the night, and took especial care that no one within hearing of the watch-house should get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night. Mr. Birnie.—“Well young gentleman, what have you to say to this?” The one who undertook to be spokesman, threw himself in the most familiar manner possible across the table, and having fixed himself perfectly at his ease, he said, “The fact was, they had been dining at a tavern, and were rather drunk, and on their way through the Piazza, they endeavoured by running away to give the slip to their three companions, who were still worse than themselves. The others, however called out Stop thief! and the watchman stopped them; whereat they naturally felt irritated, and certainly gave the watchman a bit of a thrashing.” Mr. Birnie.—“How was he to know you were not the thieves? He did quite right to stop you, and I am very glad he has brought you here—Pray, Sir, what are you?” Defendant.—“I am nothing, Sir.” Mr. Birnie (to another).—“And what are you?” Defendant.—“Why, Sir, I am—I am, Sir, nothing.” Mr. Birnie.—“Well, this is very fine. Pray, Sir, (turning to the third, who stood twirling his hat) will you do me the favour to tell what you are?” This gentleman answered in the same way. “I am, as my friends observed, nothing.” Mr. Birnie.—“Well, gentlemen, I must endeavour to make something of you. Here, gaoler, let them he locked up, and I shall not part with them until I have some better account of their occupations.” We have heard it asserted, that Nine tailors make a man. How many Dandies, professing to be Nothing, may be required to accomplish the proposed intention of making Something, may (perhaps by this time) be discovered by the worthy Magistrate. We however suspect he has had severe work of it.
"Leave me alone,” exclaimed the almost petrified Dandy.
“Not till you have given me the satisfaction I have a right to demand,” cried Tom. “I insist upon an explanation and apology—or demand your card—who are you, Sir? That's my address,” instantly handing him a card. “I am not to be played with, nor will I suffer your escape, after the insulting manner in which you have spoken, with impunity.”
Though not prepared for such a rencontre, the Dandy, who now perceived the inflexible temper of Tom's mind—and a crowd of people gathering round him—determined at least to put on as much of the character of a man as possible, and fumbled in his pocket for a card; at length finding one, he slipped it into Tom's hand. “Oh, Sir,” said he, “if that's the case, I'm your man, demmee—how, when, or where you please, ?pon honor.” Then beckoning to a hackney coach, he hobbled to the door, and was pushed in by coachee, who, immediately mounted the box and flourishing his whip, soon rescued him from his perilous situation, and the jeers of the surrounding multitude.
Tom, who in the bustle of the crowd had slipped the card of his antagonist into his pocket, now took Bob's arm, and they pursued their way down St. James's Street, and could not help laughing at the affair: but Tallyho, who had a great aversion to duelling, and was thinking of the consequences, bit his lips, and expressed his sorrow at what had occurred; he ascribed the hasty imputation of drunkenness to the irritating effects of the poor creature's accident, and expressed his hope that his cousin would take no further notice of it. Tom, however, on the other hand, ridiculed Bob's fears—told him it was a point of honour not to suffer an insult in the street from any man—nor would he—besides, the charge of drunkenness from such a thing as that, is not to be borne. “D——n it, man, drunkenness in the early part of the day is a thing I abhor, it is at all times what I would avoid if possible, but at night there may be many apologies for it; nay in some cases even to avoid it is impossible. The pleasures of society are enhanced by it—the joys of love are increased by the circulation of the glass—harmony, conviviality and friendship are produced by it—though I am no advocate for inebriety, and detest the idea of the beast—
“Who clouds his reason by the light of day,
And falls to drink, an early and an easy prey.”
“Well,” said Bob, “I cannot help thinking this poor fellow, who has already betrayed his fears, will be inclined to make any apology for his rudeness to-morrow.”
“If he does not,” said Tom, “I'll wing him, to a certainty—a jackanapes—a puppy—a man-milliner; perhaps a thing of shreds and patches—he shall not go unpunished, I promise you; so come along, we will just step in here, and I'll dispatch this business at once: I'll write a challenge, and then it will be off my hands.” And so saying, they entered a Coffee-house, where, calling for pen, ink and paper, Tom immediately began his epistle, shrewdly hinting to his Cousin, that he expected he would act as his Second. “It will be a fine opportunity for introducing your name to the gay world—the newspapers will record your name as a man of ton. Let us see now how it will appear:—On—— last, the Honourable Tom Dashall, attended by his Cousin, Robert Tallyho, Esq. of Belleville Hall, met—ah, by the bye, let us see who he is,” here he felt in his pocket for the card.
Bob, however, declared his wish to decline obtaining popularity by being present upon such an occasion, and suggested the idea of his calling upon the offender, and endeavouring to effect an amicable arrangement between them.
“Hallo!” exclaimed Tom with surprise, as he drew the card from his pocket, and threw it on the table—“Ha, ha, ha—look at that.”
Tallyho looked at the card without understanding it. “What does it mean?” said he.
"Mean,” replied Tom, “why it is a Pawnbroker's duplicate for a Hunting Watch, deposited with his uncle this morning in St. Martin's Lane, for two pounds—laughable enough—well, you may dismiss your fears for the present; but I'll try if I can't find my man by this means—if he is worth finding—at all events we have found a watch.”
Bob now joined in the laugh, and, having satisfied the Waiter, they sallied forth again.
Just as they left the Coffee-house, “Do you see that Gentleman in the blue great coat, arm in arm with another? that is no other than the——. You would scarcely conceive, by his present appearance, that he has commanded armies, and led them on to victory; and that having retired under the shade of his laurels, he is withering them away, leaf by leaf, by attendance at the hells{1} of the metropolis; his unconquerable spirit still actuating him in his hours of relaxation. It is said that the immense sum awarded to him for his prowess in war, has been so materially reduced by his inordinate passion for play, that although he appears at Court, and is a favourite, the demon Poverty stares him in the face. But this is a vile world, and half one hears is not to be believed. He is certainly extravagant, fond of women, and fond of wine; but all these foibles are overshadowed with so much glory as scarcely to remain perceptible. Here is the Palace,” said Tom, directing his Cousin's attention to the bottom of the street.
Bob was evidently struck at this piece of information, as he could discover no mark of grandeur in its appearance to entitle it to the dignity of a royal residence.
“It is true,” said Tom, “the outside appearance is not much in its favour; but it is venerable for its antiquity, and for its being till lately the place at which the Kings of this happy Island have held their Courts. On the site of that palace originally stood an hospital, founded before the conquest, for fourteen leprous females, to whom eight brethren were afterwards added, to assist in the performance of divine service.”
“Very necessary,” said Bob, “and yet scarcely sufficient.”
1 Hells—The abode or resort of black-legs or gamblers,
where they assemble to commit their depredations
