ectly satisfied with his quarters and would have remained there till
morning, but that his conductor rose soon after midnight, to go home; Mr
Tappertit following his example, left him no excuse to stay. So they all
three left the house together: roaring a No-Popery song until the fields
resounded with the dismal noise.

Cheer up, captain!' cried Hugh, when they had roared themselves out of
breath. 'Another stave!'

Mr Tappertit, nothing loath, began again; and so the three went
staggering on, arm-in-arm, shouting like madmen, and defying the watch
with great valour. Indeed this did not require any unusual bravery or
boldness, as the watchmen of that time, being selected for the office
on account of excessive age and extraordinary infirmity, had a custom
of shutting themselves up tight in their boxes on the first symptoms
of disturbance, and remaining there until they disappeared. In these
proceedings, Mr Dennis, who had a gruff voice and lungs of considerable
power, distinguished himself very much, and acquired great credit with
his two companions.

'What a queer fellow you are!' said Mr Tappertit. 'You're so precious
sly and close. Why don't you ever tell what trade you're of?'

'Answer the captain instantly,' cried Hugh, beating his hat down on his
head; 'why don't you ever tell what trade you're of?'

'I'm of as gen-teel a calling, brother, as any man in England--as light
a business as any gentleman could desire.'

'Was you 'prenticed to it?' asked Mr Tappertit.

'No. Natural genius,' said Mr Dennis. 'No 'prenticing. It come
by natur'. Muster Gashford knows my calling. Look at that hand of
mine--many and many a job that hand has done, with a neatness and
dexterity, never known afore. When I look at that hand,' said Mr
Dennis, shaking it in the air, 'and remember the helegant bits of work
it has turned off, I feel quite molloncholy to think it should ever grow
old and feeble. But sich is life!'

He heaved a deep sigh as he indulged in these reflections, and putting
his fingers with an absent air on Hugh's throat, and particularly under
his left ear, as if he were studying the anatomical development of that
part of his frame, shook his head in a despondent manner and actually
shed tears.

'You're a kind of artist, I suppose--eh!' said Mr Tappertit.

'Yes,' rejoined Dennis; 'yes--I may call myself a artist--a fancy
workman--art improves natur'--that's my motto.'

'And what do you call this?' said Mr Tappert