says Mel, "I merely bowed to her, and took no notice." So that
passed off: and there sits Mel telling his anecdotes, as grand as a king.
And, by and-by, young Mr. George, who hadn't forgiven Mel, and had been
pulling at the bottle pretty well, he sings out, "It 's Michaelmas! the
death of the goose! and I should like to drink the Marquis's health!" and
he drank it solemn. But, as far as I can make out, the women part of the
company was a little in the dark. So Mel waited till there was a sort of
a pause, and then speaks rather loud to the Admiral, "By the way, Sir
Jackson, may I ask you, has the title of Marquis anything to do with
tailoring?" Now Mel was a great favourite with the Admiral, and with his
lady, too, they say--and the Admiral played into his hands, you see, and,
says he, "I 'm not aware that it has, Mr. Harrington." And he begged for
to know why he asked the question--called him, "Mister," you understand.
So Mel said, and I can see him now, right out from his chest he spoke,
with his head up "When I was a younger man, I had the good taste to be
fond of good society, and the bad taste to wish to appear different from
what I was in it": that's Mel speaking; everybody was listening; so he
goes on: "I was in the habit of going to Bath in the season, and
consorting with the gentlemen I met there on terms of equality; and for
some reason that I am quite guiltless of," says Mel, "the hotel people
gave out that I was a Marquis in disguise; and, upon my honour, ladies
and gentlemen--I was young then, and a fool--I could not help imagining I
looked the thing. At all events, I took upon myself to act the part, and
with some success, and considerable gratification; for, in my opinion,"
says Mel, "no real Marquis ever enjoyed his title so much as I did. One
day I was in my shop--No. 193, Main Street, Lymport--and a gentleman came
in to order his outfit. I received his directions, when suddenly he
started back, stared at me, and exclaimed:

'My dear Marquis! I trust you will pardon me for having addressed you
with so much familiarity.' I recognized in him one of my Bath
acquaintances. That circumstance, ladies and gentlemen, has been a lesson
to me. Since that time I have never allowed a false impression with
regard to my position to exist. "I desire," says Mel, smiling, "to have
my exact measure taken everywhere; and if the Michaelmas bird is to be
associated with me, I am sure I have no objection; all I can say is, that