eighboring i's, as Milting observes, the ecomplisht Lady
Hangelina Thistlewood, daughter of my exlent frend, John George Godfrey
de Bullion Thistlewood, Earl of Bareacres, Baron Southdown, in the
Peeridge of the United Kingdom, Baron Haggismore, in Scotland, K.T.,
Lord Leftnant of the County of Diddlesex, &c. &c. This young lady was
with her Noble Ma, when I was kinducted tords her. And surely never
lighted on this hearth a more delightfle vishn. In that gallixy of Bewty
the Lady Hangelina was the fairest Star--in that reath of Loveliness
the sweetest Rosebud! Pore Mary Hann, my Art's young affeckshns had been
senterd on thee; but like water through a sivv, her immidge disappeared
in a momink, and left me intransd in the presnts of Hangelina.

"Lady Bareacres made me a myjestick bow--a grand and hawfle pusnage
her Ladyship is, with a Roming Nose, and an enawmus ploom of Hostridge
phethers; the fare Hangelina smiled with a sweetness perfickly
bewhildring, and said, 'O, Mr. De la Pluche, I'm so delighted to make
your acquaintance. I have often heard of you.'

"'Who,' says I, 'has mentioned my insiggnificknt igsistance to the fair
Lady Hangelina? kel bonure igstrame poor mwaw!' (For you see I've not
studdied 'Pelham' for nothink, and have lunt a few French phraces,
without which no Gent of fashn speaks now.)

"'O,' replies my lady, 'it was Papa first; and then a very, VERY old
friend of yours.'

"'Whose name is,' says I, pusht on by my stoopid curawsaty--

"'Hoggins--Mary Ann Hoggins'--ansurred my lady (laffing phit to splitt
her little sides). 'She is my maid, Mr. De la Pluche, and I'm afraid you
are a very sad, sad person.'

"'A mere baggytell,' says I. 'In fommer days I WAS equainted with that
young woman; but haltered suckmstancies have sepparated us for hever,
and mong cure is irratreevably perdew elsewhere.'

"'Do tell me all about it. Who is it? When was it? We are all dying to
know."

"'Since about two minnits, and the Ladys name begins with a HA,' says I,
looking her tendarly in the face, and conjring up hall the fassanations
of my smile.

"'Mr. De la Pluche,' here said a gentleman in whiskers and mistashes
standing by, 'hadn't you better take your spurs out of the Countess of
Bareacres' train?'--'Never mind Mamma's train' (said Lady Hangelina):
'this is the great Mr. De la Pluche, who is to make all our
fortunes--yours too. Mr. de la Pluche, let me present you to Captain
George Silvertop,'--The Capting