to a Cabinet Council, and I will consult my colleagues whether I
can divulge State secrets to you or not." Upon another occasion, on
entering Boodle's, of which he was a member, he observed the celebrated
Lord Westmoreland at table, where the noble lord was doing justice to a
roast fowl. Taylor, of course, asked him the news of the day, and Lord
Westmoreland coolly told the little newsmonger to go into the other
room and leave him to finish his dinner, promising to join him after he
had done. The noble Lord kept his word, and the first thing he heard
from Mr. Taylor was, "Well, my lord, what news? what had you for
dinner?"

His lordship replied, "A Welsh leg of mutton." "What then--what then?"
"Don't you think a leg of mutton enough for any man?" "Yes, my lord,
but you did not eat it all." "Yes, Taylor, I did." "Well, I think you
have placed the leg of mutton in some mysterious place, for I see no
trace of it in your lean person."

Lord Westmoreland was remarkable for an appetite which made nothing of
a respectable joint, or a couple of fowls.

I know not whether Mr. Poole, the author of Paul Pry, had Michael
Angelo in his head when he wrote that well-known comedy; but certainly
he might have sat for a character whose intrusive and inquisitive
habits were so notorious, that people on seeing him approach always
prepared for a string of almost impertinent interrogations.

Another remarkable man about town was Colonel Cooke, commonly called
Kangaroo Cooke, who was for many years the private aide-de-camp and
secretary of H. R. H. the Duke of York. He was the brother of
General Sir George Cooke and of the beautiful Countess of Cardigan,
mother of the gallant Lord Cardigan, and the Ladies Howe, Baring, and
Lucan. During his career he had been employed in diplomatic
negotiations with the French, previous to the peace of Paris. He was
in the best society, and always attracted attention by his dandified
mode of dress.

Colonel Armstrong, another pet of the Duke of York, was known, when in
the Coldstream Guards, to be a thorough hard-working soldier, and his
non-commissioned officers were so perfect, that nearly all the
adjutants of the different regiments of the line were educated by him.
He was a strict disciplinarian, but strongly opposed to corporal
punishment, and used to boast that during the whole time that he
commanded the regiment only two men had been flogged.

Colonel Mackinnon, commonly called "Dan," wa