place. From the Duke of
Dazzleton's, or rather from the tread-mill, he went to the Marquis of
Mammon, whom he very soon left because he wouldn't wear a second-hand wig.
From the marquis he got hired to the great Irish Earl of Coarsegab, who
expected him to wash the carriage, wait at table, and do other incidentals
never contemplated by a London coachman. Peter threw this place up with
indignation on being told to take the letters to the post. He then lived on
his 'means' for a while, a thing that is much finer in theory than in
practice, and having about exhausted his substance and placed the bulk of
his apparel in safe keeping, he condescended to take a place as job
coachman in a livery-stable--a 'horses let by the hour, day, or month'
one, in which he enacted as many characters, at least made as many
different appearances, as the late Mr. Mathews used to do in his celebrated
'At Homes.' One day Peter would be seen ducking under the mews' entrance in
one of those greasy, painfully well-brushed hats, the certain precursors of
soiled linen and seedy, most seedy-covered buttoned coats, that would
puzzle a conjuror to say whether they were black, or grey, or olive, or
invisible green turned visible brown. Then another day he might be seen in
old Mrs. Gadabout's sky-blue livery, with a tarnished, gold-laced hat,
nodding over his nose; and on a third he would shine forth in Mrs.
Major-General Flareup's cockaded one, with a worsted shoulder-knot, and a
much over-daubed light drab livery coat, with crimson inexpressibles, so
tight as to astonish a beholder how he ever got into them. Humiliation,
however, has its limits as well as other things; and Peter having been
invited to descend from his box--alas! a regular country patent leather
one, and invest himself in a Quaker-collared blue coat, with a red vest,
and a pair of blue trousers with a broad red stripe down the sides, to
drive the Honourable old Miss Wrinkleton, of Harley Street, to Court in a
'one oss pianoforte-case,' as he called a Clarence, he could stand it no
longer, and, chucking the nether garments into the fire, he rushed
frantically up the area-steps, mounted his box, and quilted the old
crocodile of a horse all the way home, accompanying each cut with an
imprecation such as '_me_ make a guy of myself!' (whip) '_me_ put on sich
things!' (whip, whip) '_me_ drive down Sin Jimses-street!' (whip, whip,
whip), '_I'd_ see her ---- fust!' (whip, whip, whip), cutting at t