fine, generous lad surrounded by spongers who rooked him at every
turn; but what could one do? The sponger has no mercy and no manliness;
he is always a person with violent appetites, and he will procure
excitement at the cost of his manliness and even of his honesty.
Bob had an open hand, and thought nothing of paying for twenty
brandies-and-sodas in the course of a morning. Twenty times eightpence
does not seem much, but if you keep up that average daily for a year you
have spent a fair income. No one ever tried to stay this prodigal with a
word of advice; indeed, in such cases advice is always useless, for the
very man whom you may seek to save is exceedingly likely to swear, or
even to strike at you. He thinks you impugn his wisdom and sharpness,
and he loves, above all things, to be regarded as an acute fellow. A few
favoured gentry almost lived on Bob, and scores of outsiders had pretty
pickings when he was in a lavish humour, which was nearly every day. He
betted on races, and lost; he played billiards, and lost; he ran fox
terriers, and lost; he played Nap for hours at a stretch, and generally
lost. He was only successful in games that required strength and daring.
Then, of course, he must needs emulate the true sporting men in amorous
achievements, and thus his income bore the drain of some two or three
little establishments. Bob would always try to drink twice as much as
any other man, and he treated himself with the same liberality in the
matter of ex-barmaids and chorus girls. The Wicked Nobleman was a
somewhat reckless character in his way, but his feats would not bear
comparison with those performed by many and many a young fellow who
belongs to the wealthy middle class. Alas! for that splendid middle
class which once represented all that was sober and steady and
trustworthy in Britain! Go into any smart billiard-room nowadays, or
make a round of the various race meetings, and you will see something to
make you sad. You see one vast precession of Rakes making their mad
Progress.

Bob was always kindly with me, as, indeed, he was with everybody. The
very bookmakers scarcely had the heart to offer him false prices, and
only the public-house spongers gave him no law. But, then the sponger
spares nobody. On this memorable morning the lad was rigged in orthodox
flannels, and he looked ruddy and well, but the ruddiness was not quite
of the right sort. He had begun drinking early, and his eye had that
incipient g