ays, 'All for Love, or the World well lost.'

"Well, sir, hark ye, just to show how things come about. Shortly after
this, on the anniversary of my honoured old master, Zachariah Pigtail's
birth, when we were allowed to strike work at noon, I determined, as
a _dernier resort_, as a clincher, sir, to act the genteel, and
invite Miss Lucy, in her furs and falderals, to accompany me to the
Exhibition of Pictures. Heavens, sir, how I dressed on that day! The
Day and Martin of my boots reflected on the shady side of the street.
I took half an hour in tying and retying my neckcloth _en mode_.
My handkerchief smelt of lavender, and my hair of oil of thyme--my
waistcoat of bergamot, and my inexpressibles of musk. I was a perfect
civet for perfumery. My coat, cut in the jemmy fashion, I buttoned to
suffocation; but 'pon honour, believe me, sir, no stays, and my shirt
neck had been starched _per order_, to the consistence of tin.
In short, to be brief, I found, or fancied myself killing--a most
irresistible fellow.

"I did not dare, however, to call for Miss Lucy at old Pa's, but waited
for her at the corner of the street, patiently drumming on my boot, with
a knowing little bit of bamboo; and projecting my left arm to her, off
we marched in triumph.

"The Exhibition Rooms were crowded with the _ton_; and to be sure a
great many fine things were there. Would you had seen them, sir. There
were admirals in blue, and generals in red--portraits of my lord this,
and my lady that--land scenes, and sea scenes, and hunting scenes, with
thips, and woods, and old castles, all amazingly like life. In short,
sir, Providence seems to have guided us to the spot, where we saw a
picture--_the_ picture, sir--the pattern copy of that there
picture, sir--and heavens! such a piece of work--but of that anon--it
did the business, sir. No sooner had I perused it through my
quizzing-glass, which, I confess, that I had brought with me more for
ornament than use--having eyes like a hawk--than I pathetically
exclaimed to Lucy--'Behold, my love, the history of our fates!' Lucy
said, 'Tuts, Toby Tims,' and gave a giggle; but I went on in solemn
gravity, before a circle of seemingly electrified spectators.

"'Spose now, Miss Lucy,' said I, holding her by the finger of her
Limerick glove; 'spose now, that I had invited you to take an outside
seat on the Hampstead Flying Phoenix with me, to go out to a rural
junketing, on May day in the afternoon. Very well