ding about the
contents of the bottle. A second and a third succeeded, and it was not
a little astonishing to him that every bottle improved his appearance;
for, though not one of his admirers remained long with him, yet the
absence of one only brought another, equally attracted by his look and
manner: every one declared he was really a gentleman in every respect,
and in the course of their short parley, did not fail to slip a card
into his hand. By this time he began to grow chatty, and was enabled
to rally in turn the observations they made. He swore he lov'd them all
round, and once or twice hummed over,

"Dear creatures, we can't do without them,
They're all that is sweet and seducing to man,
Looking, sighing about, and about them,
We doat on them--do for them, all that we can."

The play being over, brought a considerable influx of company into
the Saloon. The regular covies paired off with their covesses, and the
moving panorama of elegance and fashion presented a scene that was truly
delightful to Bob.

The Ladybird, who had been so attentive to the gouty customer, now
wished him a good night, for, said she, "There is my friend,{2} and so I
am off." This seemed only to increase the agony of his already agonized
toe, notwithstanding which he presently toddled off, and was seen no
more for the evening.

"What's become of Sparkle," enquired Tom. "Stole away," was the reply.

"Tipp'd us the double, has he," said Dashall. "Well, what think you of
Drury-lane?"

1 Lady-bird--A dashing Cyprian.

2 The term friend is in constant use among accessible
ladies, and signifies their protector or keeper.

~140~~"'Tis a very delightful tragedy indeed, but performed in the most
comical manner I ever witnessed in my life."

"Pshaw!" said Bob, "very few indeed, except the critics and the plebs,
come here to look at the play; they come to see and be seen."

"Egad then," said Bob, "a great many have been gratified to-night, and
perhaps I have been highly honoured, for every person that has passed me
has complimented me with a stare."

"Which of course you did not fail to return?"

"Certainly not; and upon my soul you have a choice show of fruit here."

"Yes," continued Tom, "London is a sort of hot-house, where fruit is
forced into ripeness by the fostering and liberal sun of Folly, sooner
than it would be, if left to its natural growth. Here however, you
observe