occasion requires.
You may tell a lover, for instance, that lying in bed makes people
corpulent; a father, that you wish him to complete the fine manly
example he sets his children; a lady, that she will injure her bloom
or her shape, which M. or W. admires so much; and a student or artist,
that he is always so glad to have done a good day's work, in his best
manner.

_Reader._ And pray, Mr. Indicator, how do _you_ behave yourself in
this respect?

_Indic._ Oh, Madam, perfectly, of course; like all advisers.

_Reader._ Nay, I allow that your mode of argument does not look quite
so suspicious as the old way of sermonising and severity, but I have
my doubts, especially from that laugh of yours. If I should look in
to-morrow morning--

_Indic._ Ah, Madam, the look in of a face like yours does anything
with me. It shall fetch me up at nine, if you please--_six_, I meant
to say.

_Leigh Hunt._

THE OLD GENTLEMAN

Our Old Gentleman, in order to be exclusively himself, must be either
a widower or a bachelor. Suppose the former. We do not mention his
precise age, which would be invidious:--nor whether he wears his own
hair or a wig; which would be wanting in universality. If a wig, it is
a compromise between the more modern scratch and the departed glory of
the toupee. If his own hair, it is white, in spite of his favourite
grandson, who used to get on the chair behind him, and pull the silver
hairs out, ten years ago. If he is bald at top, the hairdresser,
hovering and breathing about him like a second youth, takes care to
give the bald place as much powder as the covered; in order that he
may convey to the sensorium within a pleasing indistinctness of idea
respecting the exact limits of skin and hair. He is very clean and
neat; and, in warm weather, is proud of opening his waistcoat half-way
down, and letting so much of his frill be seen, in order to show his
hardiness as well as taste. His watch and shirt-buttons are of the
best; and he does not care if he has two rings on a finger. If his
watch ever failed him at the club or coffee-house, he would take a
walk every day to the nearest clock of good character, purely to keep
it right. He has a cane at home, but seldom uses it, on finding it out
of fashion with his elderly juniors. He has a small cocked hat for
gala days, which he lifts higher from his head than the round one,
when made a bow to. In his pockets are two handkerchiefs (one for the
neck at