cheat--augh!"

"Must a man who follows a profession, necessarily cheat, then?"

"Baugh! can your honour ask that? Does not the Lawyer cheat? and the
Doctor cheat? and the Parson cheat, more than any? and that's the reason
they all takes so much int'rest in their profession--bother!"

"But the soldier? you say nothing of him."

"Why, the soldier," said the Corporal, with dignity, "the private
soldier, poor fellow, is only cheated; but when he comes for to get for
to be as high as a corp'ral, or a sargent, he comes for to get to
bully others, and to cheat. Augh! then 'tis not for the privates to
cheat,--that would be 'sumpton indeed, save us!"

"The General, then, cheats more than any, I suppose?"

"'Course, your honour; he talks to the world 'bout honour an' glory, and
love of his Country, and sich like--augh! that's proper cheating!"

"You're a bitter fellow, Mr. Bunting: and pray, what do you think of the
Ladies--'are they as bad as the men?'"

"Ladies--augh! when they're married--yes! but of all them ere creturs,
I respects the kept Ladies, the most--on the faith of a man, I do! Gad!
how well they knows the world--one quite invies the she rogues; they
beats the wives hollow! Augh! and your honour should see how they fawns
and flatters, and butters up a man, and makes him think they loves him
like winkey, all the time they ruins him. They kisses money out of the
miser, and sits in their satins, while the wife, 'drot her, sulks in a
gingham. Oh, they be cliver creturs, and they'll do what they likes with
old Nick, when they gets there, for 'tis the old gentlemen they cozens
the best; and then," continued the Corporal, waxing more and more
loquacious, for his appetite in talking grew with that it fed on,--"then
there be another set o' queer folks you'll see in Lunnon, Sir, that is,
if you falls in with 'em,--hang all together, quite in a clink. I
seed lots on 'em when lived with the Colonel--Colonel Dysart, you
knows--augh?"

"And what are they?"

"Rum ones, your honour; what they calls Authors."

"Authors! what the deuce had you or the Colonel to do with Authors?"

"Augh! then, the Colonel was a very fine gentleman, what the larned
calls a my-seen-ass, wrote little songs himself, 'crossticks, you knows,
your honour: once he made a play--'cause why, he lived with an actress!"

"A very good reason, indeed, for emulating Shakespear; and did the play
succeed?"

"Fancy it did, your honour; for the Colonel was