the post-office, and the conducteur requested the
passengers to descend. "That's optional," said a bystander, who was
waiting for his letters, looking at Mr. Jorrocks with an air as much as
to say, what a rum-looking fellow you are, and not without reason, for
the Colonel was attired in a blue sailor's jacket, white leathers,
and jack-boots, with the cocked hat and feather. The speaker was a
middle-aged, middle-statured man, with a quick intelligent eye, dressed
in a single-breasted green riding-coat, striped toilinette waistcoat,
and drab trousers, with a whip in his hand. "Thank you for nothing!"
replied Mr. Jorrocks, eyeing him in return, upon which the speaker
turned to the clerk and asked if there were any letters for Monsieur
Apperley or Nimrod. "NIMROD!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, dropping on his
knees as though he were shot. "Oh my vig what have I done? Oh dear! oh
dear! what a dumbfounderer--flummoxed I declare!"

"Hold up! old 'un," said Nimrod in astonishment; "why, what's the matter
now? You don't owe me anything I dare say!"

"Owe you anything! yes, I does," said Mr. Jorrocks, rising from
the ground, "I owes you a debt of gratitude that I can never wipe
off--you'll be in the day-book and ledger of my memory for ever and a
year."

"Who are you?" inquired Nimrod, becoming more and more puzzled, as he
contrasted his dialect with his dress.

"Who am I? Why, I'm Mister Jorrocks."

"Jorrocks, by Jove! Who'd have thought it! I declare I took you for
a horse-marine. Give us your hand, old boy. I'm proud to make your
acquaintance."

"Ditto to you, sir, twice repeated. I considers you the werry first man
of the age!"--and thereupon they shook hands with uncommon warmth.

"You've been in Paris, I suppose," resumed Nimrod, after their
respective digits were released; "were you much gratified with what you
saw? What pleased you most--the Tuileries, Louvre, Garden of Plants,
Pere la Chaise, Notre Dame, or what?"

"Why now, to tell you the truth, singular as it may seem, I saw nothing
but the Tuileries and Naughty Dame.--I may say a werry naughty dame, for
she fleeced me uncommonly, scarcely leaving me a dump to carry me home."

"What, you've been among the ladies, have you? That's gay for a man at
your time of life."

"Yes, I certainlie have been among the ladies,--countesses I may
say--but, dash my vig, they are a rum set, and made me pay for their
acquaintance. The Countess Benwolio certainlie is a bad 'un."