d been in former days as circumstances would allow,
before again subjecting myself ~234~~to Mr. Framptqn's scrutiny. For
this purpose, I combed my hair back from my face as far as possible, and
brushed my whiskers--an acquisition of which I had only lately become
possessed--as prominently forward as the growth of the crop permitted. I
poked my shirt-collar entirely out of sight, and tied my black neckcloth
stiffly up under my chin, and finally buttoned my coat, so as to show
off the breadth of my chest and shoulders to the greatest advantage.
Thus accoutred, and drawing myself up to my full height, I hastened to
rejoin Mr. Frampton. My arrangements seemed thoroughly to have answered
their purpose, for he gazed at me without evincing the slightest symptom
of recognition. He shook me by the hand, however, and thanked me more
cordially than he had yet done for the assistance rendered him, and then
rang for dinner. The bill of fare embraced all the Asiatic luxuries he
had enumerated, to which, on the strength of having invited a guest,
sundry European dishes were added; and with appetites sharpened by our
recent adventures, we did full justice to the good cheer that was set
before us.

CHAPTER XXX -- MR. FRAMPTON'S INTRODUCTION TO A TIGER

"Had I been seized by a hungry tiger,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast."
--_Shakspeare_.

"He started
Like one who sees a spectre, and exclaimed,
'Blind that I was to know him not till now!'"
--_Southey_.

"Go to, you are a counterfeit knave!"--_Shakspeare_.

"I HOPE you feel no ill effects from your adventure, sir: you resisted
the fellow's attack most spiritedly, and would have beaten him off,
I believe, if you had possessed a more serviceable weapon than an
umbrella," observed I to Mr. Frampton, as we drew our chairs to the fire
after dinner.

"Umph! all right, sir, all right: a little stiff or so across the back,
but not so bad as the tiger at Bundleapoor. I'm not as young as I used
to be, and there's a difference between young men and old ones. Young
men are all whalebone and whipcord, and it's nothing but hopping,
skipping, and jumping with them all day long; when ~235~~you're turned
of sixty-five, sir, the whalebone gets stiff, the whipcord wears
out, the skip and jump take their departure, and the hop becomes an
involuntary accompaniment to the rheumatism--confound it! Umph!"