it.--In five seconds afterwards, Sir,' says the egotistical gentleman,
bringing his hands together with one violent clap--'the lad was over!'

Diversifying these topics by the introduction of many others of the same
kind, and entertaining us between whiles with a minute account of what
weather and diet agreed with them, and what weather and diet disagreed
with them, and at what time they usually got up, and at what time went to
bed, with many other particulars of their domestic economy too numerous
to mention; the egotistical couple at length took their leave, and
afforded us an opportunity of doing the same.

Mr. and Mrs. Sliverstone are an egotistical couple of another class, for
all the lady's egotism is about her husband, and all the gentleman's
about his wife. For example:--Mr. Sliverstone is a clerical gentleman,
and occasionally writes sermons, as clerical gentlemen do. If you happen
to obtain admission at the street-door while he is so engaged, Mrs.
Sliverstone appears on tip-toe, and speaking in a solemn whisper, as if
there were at least three or four particular friends up-stairs, all upon
the point of death, implores you to be very silent, for Mr. Sliverstone
is composing, and she need not say how very important it is that he
should not be disturbed. Unwilling to interrupt anything so serious, you
hasten to withdraw, with many apologies; but this Mrs. Sliverstone will
by no means allow, observing, that she knows you would like to see him,
as it is very natural you should, and that she is determined to make a
trial for you, as you are a great favourite. So you are led
up-stairs--still on tip-toe--to the door of a little back room, in which,
as the lady informs you in a whisper, Mr. Sliverstone always writes. No
answer being returned to a couple of soft taps, the lady opens the door,
and there, sure enough, is Mr. Sliverstone, with dishevelled hair,
powdering away with pen, ink, and paper, at a rate which, if he has any
power of sustaining it, would settle the longest sermon in no time. At
first he is too much absorbed to be roused by this intrusion; but
presently looking up, says faintly, 'Ah!' and pointing to his desk with a
weary and languid smile, extends his hand, and hopes you'll forgive him.
Then Mrs. Sliverstone sits down beside him, and taking his hand in hers,
tells you how that Mr. Sliverstone has been shut up there ever since nine
o'clock in the morning, (it is by this time twelve at noon,) a