ly sharing a pot of porter with a gentleman in black shorts
and a laced waistcoat, who was to play the part of a broken-hearted
father in the Domestic Draina in Three Acts that would conclude the
amusements of the evening.

"Excuse me," said I, apologetically; "but as the Swan pertinently
observes, 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot?'"

"The Swan, sir!" cried the beadle, aghast,--"the Swan never demeaned
himself by such d--d broad Scotch as that!"

"The Tweed has its swans as well as the Avon, Mr. Peacock."

"St--st--hush--hush-h--u--sh!" whispered the beadle in great alarm,
and eying me, with savage observation, under his corked eyebrows. Then,
taking me by the arm, he jerked me away. When he had got as far as the
narrow limits of that little stage would allow, Mr. Peacock said,--

"Sir, you have the advantage of me; I don't remember you. Ah! you need
not look--by gad, sir, I am not to be bullied--it was all fair play. If
you will play with gentlemen, sir, you must run the consequences."

I hastened to appease the worthy man.

"Indeed, Mr. Peacock, if you remember, I refused to play with you; and
so far from wishing to offend you, I now come on purpose to compliment
you on your excellent acting, and to inquire if you have heard anything
lately of your young friend Mr. Vivian."

"Vivian? Never heard the name, sir. Vivian! Pooh, you are trying to hoax
me; very good!"

"I assure you, Mr. Peac--"

"St--st--How the deuce did you know that I was once called Peac--, that
is, people called me Peac--. A friendly nickname, no more. Drop it, sir,
or you 'touch me with noble anger'!"

"Well, well; 'the rose by any name will smell as sweet,' as the Swan,
this time at least, judiciously observes. But Mr. Vivian, too, seems to
have other names at his disposal. I mean a young, dark, handsome
man--or rather boy--with whom I met you in company by the roadside, one
morning."

"O--h!" said Mr. Peacock, looking much relieved, "I know whom you mean,
though I don't remember to have had the pleasure of seeing you before.
No; I have not heard any thing of the young man lately. I wish I did
know something of him. He was a 'gentleman in my own way.' Sweet Will
has hit him off to a hair--!

'The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword.'

"Such a hand with a cue! You should have seen him seek the 'bubble
reputation at the cannon's mouth.' I may say," continued Mr. Peacock,
emphatically, "that he was a regular trum