o means necessary," answered Bindloose, "the bill is quite right;
but it is usual to indorse, sir."

"Certainly--reach me a pen--d'ye think I can write with my rattan?--What
sort of ink is this?--yellow as curry sauce--never mind--there is my
name--Peregrine Touchwood--I got it from the Willoughbies, my Christian
name--Have I my full change here?"

"Your full change, sir," answered Bindloose.

"Why, you should give _me_ a premium, friend, instead of me giving you
one."

"It is out of our way, I assure you, sir," said the Banker, "quite out
of our way--but if you would step into the parlour and take a cup of
tea"----

"Why, ay," said the stranger, his voice sounding more distinctly as
(talking all the while, and ushered along by Mr. Bindloose) he left the
office and moved towards the parlour, "a cup of tea were no such bad
thing, if one could come by it genuine--but as for your premium"----So
saying, he entered the parlour and made his bow to Mrs. Dods, who,
seeing what she called a decent, purpose-like body, and aware that his
pocket was replenished with English and Scottish paper currency,
returned the compliment with her best curtsy.

Mr. Touchwood, when surveyed more at leisure, was a short, stout, active
man, who, though sixty years of age and upwards, retained in his sinews
and frame the elasticity of an earlier period. His countenance expressed
self-confidence, and something like a contempt for those who had neither
seen nor endured so much as he had himself. His short black hair was
mingled with grey, but not entirely whitened by it. His eyes were
jet-black, deep-set, small, and sparkling, and contributed, with a short
turned-up nose, to express an irritable and choleric habit. His
complexion was burnt to a brick-colour by the vicissitudes of climate,
to which it had been subjected; and his face, which at the distance of a
yard or two seemed hale and smooth, appeared, when closely examined, to
be seamed with a million of wrinkles, crossing each other in every
direction possible, but as fine as if drawn by the point of a very
small needle.[I-20] His dress was a blue coat and buff waistcoat, half
boots remarkably well blacked, and a silk handkerchief tied with
military precision. The only antiquated part of his dress was a cocked
hat of equilateral dimensions, in the button-hole of which he wore a
very small cockade. Mrs. Dods, accustomed to judge of persons by their
first appearance, said, that in the three