hich to
refer all other kinds of edibles--perhaps an ortolan pie; and the
further removed from this imaginary point of perfection any dish
appeared, the more vulgar and commonplace it became; and taking it for
granted, that as far as human gradations are concerned, the loftiest
aristocracy corresponded with the ortolan pie, it is evident that Mr
Daggles's mode of assigning rank and precedence was founded on
strictly philosophical principles; as much so, perhaps, as the labours
of Debrett.

"Now, look at this old covey--twig his shorts and long gaiters: he's
some old Suffolk squire, has grown too fat for harriers, and goes out
with the greyhounds twice a-week--a truly respectable member of
society"--continued Mr Daggles with a sneer, when the subject of his
lecture had passed on--"reg'lar boiled beef and greens."

"He ain't so fat as our Mr Pitskiver," replied Snipe; "I thinks I
never see no gentleman with so broad a back; except p'raps a prize
ox."

"You should get a set of harrows to clean his Chesterfield with,
instead of a brush--it's more like a field than a coat," said Daggles.
"But look here--here comes a ticket!"

The ticket alluded to was a well-made young man, with a very healthy
complexion, long glossy black curls hanging down his cheek, a
remarkably long-backed surtout, and a small silk hat resting on the
very top of his umbrageous head. As he drew near, he slackened his
pace--passed the house slowly, looking up to the drawing-room window,
evidently in hopes of seeing some object more attractive than the vast
hydrangia which rose majestically out of a large flowerpot, and
darkened all the lower panes. Before he had proceeded ten yards, and
just when Mr Daggles had fixed in his own mind on the particular
effort of culinary skill suggested by his appearance, the ticket
turned quickly round and darted up the steps. Snipe stepped forward in
some alarm.

"Your master's not at home," said the Ticket; "but the ladies"--

"Is all out in the featon, sir."

"Will you be good enough--I see I may trust you--to give this note to
Miss Sophia? I shall take an opportunity of showing my gratitude very
soon. Will you give it?"

"Yes, sir, in course."

"Secretly? And, be assured, I shall not forget you." So saying, the
Ticket walked hurriedly away, and Snipe stood with the note still in
his hand, and looked dubiously at his companion.

Mr Daggle's eyes were fixed on the retreating figure of the Ticket;
and, after