bliged to
undergo. A person whom I have met, perhaps at the table of a real
friend, asks me to dine with him: I find a large company assembled upon
the occasion, and hardly is the cloth taken away, when mine host, with
all the freedom of an established acquaintance, without the least
delicacy, or even common feeling, often without the softening
circumstance of asking some other person to begin, or even of beginning
himself, calls upon Mr. Hodgkinson for a song."--"Then why do you
comply? why dont you refuse the invitation? or, if you cannot, why dont
you pretend to be hoarse?" "I will tell you why: because, in a place of
such limited population as this, the hostility of a few would spread
through the whole; and not only mine host, but all those whom he had
invited to Hodgkinson's SONG, would fret at their disappointment, and
their fret would turn to an enmity which I should feel severely in empty
benches at my benefit." "It is not that, Hodge," said this writer; "but,
as Yorick said to corporal Trim, because thou art the very best natured
fellow in the world." It was upon an occasion of this kind Hodgkinson
related to the writer the incident with his Bristol landlord, observing
upon it, that there were many who washed down turtle dinners with
champaigne and burgundy that might derive profit and honour from
imitating the natural politeness and delicacy of that man whom, if they
had seen, they would have called a low fellow or a boor.

To please the honest wagoner, and one or two fellow-travellers, however,
H. did sing several songs in the evening, and as at that time he had not
learned to drink, they thought themselves the more indebted to him, and
the landlord and his wife put him to sleep with their son, who kept him
awake the greater part of the night, asking him the most ridiculous
questions respecting his parentage, where he came from, whither he was
going, &c. and concluded with expressing his firm belief, because Sally,
the housemaid, had told him so, that he, Hodgkinson, was some great
man's son, who had run away from school, for fear of a flogging: "for
you know," said he, "that none but the great volks can afford to be
great singers and musicianers."

Resolved to take leave of his kind friend the wagoner, who was to set
off on his return early in the morning, our young adventurer was up
betimes, and went to the stable to look for him. As he stood at the
door, a tall young stripling, dressed in what they call a