," said the discriminating Dashall to his friend, as they
reached the Mall in St. James's Park, "of that solitary knight of the
woeful countenance; his thread-bare raiment and dejected aspect, denote
disappointment and privation;--ten imperial sovereigns to a plebeian
~328~~ shilling, he is either a retired veteran or a distressed poet."

The object of curiosity, who had now seated himself, appeared to have
attained the age of fifty, or more--a bat that had once been
black--a scant-skirted blue coat, much the worse for wear--a striped
waistcoat--his lank legs and thighs wrapt in a pair of something
resembling trowsers, but "a world too wide for his shrunk shanks"--short
gaiters--shoes in the last stage of consumption--whiskers of full
dimensions--his head encumbered with an unadjusted redundancy-of grey
hair: such were the habiliments and figure of this son of adversity!

The two friends now seated themselves on the same bench with the
stranger, who, absorbed in reflection, observed not their approach.

The silence of the triumvirate was broken in upon by Tom, who, with his
usual suavity of manners, politely addressed himself to the unknown,
on the common topic of weather, _et cetera_, without eliciting in reply
more than an assenting or dissenting monosyllable, "You have seen some
service, Sir?"

"Yes."

"In the army, I presume?"

"No."

"Under Government?"

"Yes."

"In the navy, probably?"

"No."

"I beg your pardon," continued Dashall--"my motives originate not in
idle inquisitiveness; if I can be of any service------"

The stranger turned towards him an eye of inquiry. "I ask not from
impertinent curiosity," resumed Dashall, "neither would I wish
indelicately to obtrude an offer of assistance, perhaps equally
unnecessary as unacceptable; yet there are certain mutabilities of life
wherein sympathy may be allowed to participate."

"Sir," said the other, with an immediate grateful expansion of mind, and
freedom of communication--"I am inexpressibly indebted for the honour
of your solicitude, and feel no hesitation in acknowledging that I am
a literary writer; but so seldom employed, and, when employed, so
inadequately requited, that to me the necessaries of life are frequently
inaccessible."

~329~~ Here Tallyho interrupted the narrator by asking--whence it
was that he had adopted a profession so irksome, precarious, and
unproductive?

"Necessity," was the reply. "During a period of eight years, I