Boffin_, wife of Mr. N. Boffin, and daughter of a cat's-meatman.
She was a fat, smiling, good-tempered creature, the servant of old
John Harmon, dustman and miser, and very kind to the miser's son
(young John Harmon). After Mr. Boffin came into his fortune she became
"a high flyer at fashion," wore black velvet and sable, but retained
her kindness of heart and love for her husband. She was devoted to
Bella Wilfer, who ultimately became the wife of young John Harmon,
_alias_ Rokesmith.--C. Dickens, _Our Mutual Friend_ (1864).

BO'GIO, one of the allies of Charlemagne. He promised his wife to
return within six months, but was slain by Dardinello.--Ariosto,
_Orlando Furioso_ (1516).

BOHEMIAN (_A_), a gipsy, from the French notion that the first gipsies
came from Bohemia.

_A Literary Bohemian_, an author of desultory works and irregular
life.

Never was there an editor with less about him of the literary
Bohemian.--_Fortnightly Review_ ("Paston Letters").

_Bohemian Literature_, desultory reading.

_A Bohemian Life_, an irregular, wandering, restless way of living,
like that of a gipsy.

BO'HEMOND, prince of Antioch, a crusader.--Sir W. Scott, _Count Robert
of Paris_ (time, Rufus).

BOIS'GRELIN (_The young countess de_), introduced in the ball given by
king Rene at Aix.--Sir W. Scott, _Anne of Geierstein_ (time, Edward
IV.).

BOIS-GUILBERT (_Sir Brian de_), a preceptor of the Knights Templars.
Ivanhoe vanquishes him in a tournament. He offers insult to Rebecca,
and she threatens to cast herself from the battlements if he touches
her. "When the castle is set on fire by the sibyl, sir Brian carries
off Rebecca from the flames. The Grand-Master of the Knights Templars
charges Rebecca with sorcery, and she demands a trial by combat. Sir
Brian de Bois-Guilbert is appointed to sustain the charge against her,
and Ivanhoe is her champion. Sir Brian being found dead in the lists,
Rebecca is declared innocent."--Sir W. Scott, _Ivanhoe_ time, (Richard
I.).

BOISTERER, one of the seven attendants of Fortunio. His gift was
that he could overturn a windmill with his breath, and even wreck a
man-of-war.

Fortunio asked him what he was doing. "I
am blowing a little, sir," answered he, "to set
those mills at work." "But," said the knight,
"you seem too far off." "On the contrary," replied
the blower, "I am too near, for if I did not
restrain my breath I should blow the mills over,
and perhaps the hill too