be looked upon, indeed, as the very Old Parr of ponies.
He often went to and fro with the little phaeton between Mr Garland's
and his son's, and, as the old people and the young were frequently
together, had a stable of his own at the new establishment, into which
he would walk of himself with surprising dignity. He condescended to
play with the children, as they grew old enough to cultivate his
friendship, and would run up and down the little paddock with them like
a dog; but though he relaxed so far, and allowed them such small
freedoms as caresses, or even to look at his shoes or hang on by his
tail, he never permitted any one among them to mount his back or drive
him; thus showing that even their familiarity must have its limits, and
that there were points between them far too serious for trifling.

He was not unsusceptible of warm attachments in his later life, for
when the good bachelor came to live with Mr Garland upon the
clergyman's decease, he conceived a great friendship for him, and
amiably submitted to be driven by his hands without the least
resistance. He did no work for two or three years before he died, but
lived in clover; and his last act (like a choleric old gentleman) was
to kick his doctor.

Mr Swiveller, recovering very slowly from his illness, and entering
into the receipt of his annuity, bought for the Marchioness a handsome
stock of clothes, and put her to school forthwith, in redemption of the
vow he had made upon his fevered bed. After casting about for some
time for a name which should be worthy of her, he decided in favour of
Sophronia Sphynx, as being euphonious and genteel, and furthermore
indicative of mystery. Under this title the Marchioness repaired, in
tears, to the school of his selection, from which, as she soon
distanced all competitors, she was removed before the lapse of many
quarters to one of a higher grade. It is but bare justice to Mr
Swiveller to say, that, although the expenses of her education kept him
in straitened circumstances for half a dozen years, he never slackened
in his zeal, and always held himself sufficiently repaid by the
accounts he heard (with great gravity) of her advancement, on his
monthly visits to the governess, who looked upon him as a literary
gentleman of eccentric habits, and of a most prodigious talent in
quotation.

In a word, Mr Swiveller kept the Marchioness at this establishment
until she was, at a moderate guess, full nineteen years