d black,
the buttons of which were spaded half-guineas; his breeches were of a
stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords exceedingly broad. He had
leggings of buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and upon his feet were
highlows. Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip,
with a red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat
with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call _calane_,
so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now when I have
added that Mr. Petulengro had on a very fine white holland shirt, I think
I have described his array. Mrs. Petulengro--I beg pardon for not having
spoken of her first--was also arrayed very much in the Roman fashion. Her
hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell in braids on either
side of her head. In her ears were rings, with long drops of gold. Round
her neck was a string of what seemed very much like very large pearls,
somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of considerable antiquity.
"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "here we are, come to see
you--wizard and witch, witch and wizard:--

"'There's a chovahanee, and a chovahano,
The nav se len is Petulengro.'"

"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you make me ashamed of
you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a-visiting now, and everything
low should be left behind."

"True," said Mr. Petulengro; "why bring what's low to the dingle, which
is low enough already?"

"What, are you a catcher at words?" said I. "I thought that catching at
words had been confined to the pothouse farmers and village witty
bodies."

"All fools," said Mrs. Petulengro, "catch at words, and very naturally,
as by so doing they hope to prevent the possibility of rational
conversation. Catching at words confined to pothouse farmers and village
witty bodies! No, nor to Jasper Petulengro. Listen for an hour or two
to the discourse of a set they call newspaper editors, and if you don't
go out and eat grass, as a dog does when he is sick, I am no female
woman. The young lord whose hand I refused when I took up with wise
Jasper once brought two of them to my mother's tan, when hankering after
my company; they did nothing but carp at each other's words, and a pretty
hand they made of it. Ill-favoured dogs they were; and their attempts at
what they called wit almost as unfortunate as their countenances."

"Well," said I, "madam, we will drop a