The merriment of an hour was the drunkenness of Sir Sampson. He had carried himself very coyly and charily through the heat of the engagement; but Sir Vane plied him so closely for his own private amusement, and so often insisted upon his "Drinking his glass like a man, and not like a lapping puppy that the soft Knight, who behaved himself decorously enough while he remained on his guard, and kept up his garb of gentility, now swore like a gentleman and a man of spirit, as Sir Vane insisted that he should; and when he could no longer articulate, he was carried off by Snacks and Joey to a truckle-bed in Attica -Sir Vane's classical designation for the region of the garrets. The host then ordered in another dozen, but was informed that all the claret was drunk out. It was impossible!-it was a dishonourable trick of Mrs. Patience Vagary's to dissolve the meeting! He snatched a candlestick-for the candle was burnt out-determined to inspect the cellars; I seized the opportunity to conduct him to his chamber, which we reached after a few falls, and much persuasive force and pacifying cajolery, being obliged to blow out the candle which I took myself, that he might not perceive that I was leading him up-stairs instead of down. Fortunately, he had forgotten the object of his journey before we had concluded the second flight of stairs, in mounting which we stumbled over Joe, who, having imitated his lord and master in drinking just as much as he could get, had dropped asleep in a corner of the landing-place. "Did yo-you-ev-ever see—see me-I say, did you ever-see-see meget drunkyo-yo-you swinish-yo-young puppy?" demanded Sir Vane, slowly and carefully, with all proper precision of speech, feeling perhaps, that it was a query not to be hastily put, as much depended upon the answer. "Ye-yes-your honour and worship," candidly hiccupped Joe, deliberately and conscientiously. Sir Vane proffered him a kick for his candour, which Joe, who knew what sort of soles went to his boots, very wisely and advisedly declined: a well-seasoned old bannister was, instead of Joe, dislodged from a station which it had held ever since the erection of Turnstile Hall, three centuries ago. And then the roaring, roistering, Sir Vane was gotten to his bed, "all by the break of day:" whilst I and Ardent walked up to the hills, to behold the beauty of the morning and talk of books, poets, and their poetry. Thus, at the beginning of another, ended a day at Turnstile Hall. GAIETIES AT GRAVESEND.* THE VOYAGE. TWADDLE," said Snubbs to me, the other evening, as we sat making the punch to our liking, "was you ever at Gravesend ?" "Well," I replied, "as far as I can recollect, if I must confess so much, I don't think that I can safely say that I ever was. Why?" "Now, why the deuce, Twaddle," cried Snubbs, "could'nt you say yes or no !-Confound you, one would think you were in the witness-box, answering questions before judge and jury, with an Old Bailey barrister watching the moment when to trip you up! *My readers will understand that I am indebted to no less a person than Mr. Twaddle, one of the party concerned in this excursion to Gravesend, for this very descriptive account of so remarkable a chapter in the History of Adventure. Mr. Twaddle, my Readers will soon discover, is of that original order of writers who have a peculiar dic tion and an inimitable stock of idioms of their own; but when once they begin to understand him, his amiable gaiety, and the profundity of his gravity, will grow upon them, and eventually amuse, delight, and inform them. "The proper study of Mankind is Man," says the moral poet. Jones is Man; and Mr. Twaddle seems to me to have studied him very diligently: he has "minded his" Jones, not his "book," as Dilworth directs; and I think my readers will agree with me that he has given a very capital, artist-like, psychological whole. length portrait of that eccentric, but, all things considered, excellent VOL. II-N But that is the worst of you-you will not come to the point at once, and in few words!" "Well, then, if I must reveal my ignorance, I never was at Gravesend." I confessed "the cape," as Grumio did. "Then it is high time that you went there. How do you bury yourself alive! And all for what? To save twenty pounds out of an income of a thousand a year, which you do not enjoy to anything like the tune of five hundred! What is the use of all your toiling and moiling, if you have not health?-and when I look at your parchment-like skin, you seem to me not to have much of that to boast of. Why don't you do as I do get out of smoky London, and rinse your lungs well with wholesome draughts of pure, fresh air? What is wealth when wanting health? There is no making a thousand a-year after the sexton has thrust his grave divining-rod into the ground to find out a vacant nine feet of earth to bury you in." I listened calmly to my friend Mr. Snubbs, for I knew his way, and let him have it. He is a well-informed person in general, but, as it happened, in this particular fact of my income, he was not exactly correct, for it is somewhat more. But no matter, to appease him, however, I said "Now don't utter another word of reproach," for I saw he was in one of his snubbing humours;-"I will go to Gravesend when you please, and how you please." young person, Jones. At the same time he has not forgotten Snubbs; and though the portrait of that remarkable man is only, as it were, etched, there is still enough of likeness in it to let you know who is the person intended. I should surmise that my friend Snubbs is well known in the City. If he is not, he deserves to be. The Reader will find, in a volume called "Glances at Life," a former communication of Mr. Twaddle's, giving as faithful a record of a trip which the same friendly party made "To Richmond "-in which the character of Mr. Jones and the characteristics of Mr. Snubbs are quite as pleasantly sketched, etched, and shadowed forth, Properly to enjoy this second communication of Mr. T.'s, the Reader should peruse the first, as he will then more fully appreciate the powers of his faithful pen, which, if it sometimes misses to make its mark, and sometimes splutters a little, is accurate and graphical in general. "There, now," said he, "that's spoken like a man and a citizen!" "But," I suggested, " is not that celebrated watering-place not quite so fashionable as frequented-in short, is it not, if I may say it, a little low ?" "Oh, my lord High-and-Mighty!" he broke out: "what! you are beginning to toss your head, and af fect -I "Now, don't be so very severe! Really" was about to excuse myself, but he interrupted me. "I tell you what, Twaddle, I've no patience with you!-Give me the lemon, do !"-and he shewed evident signs of excessive irritation. I promptly replied, and deservedly, I think, "If I am at all justified in making such a remark, I must say, Mr. Snubbs, that you seem to me to have had quite enough of the lemon already." "Sir!" said he, firing up like a furnace. "What has, all in a moment, so soured your temper?" I demanded; and, feeling my dignity as a Ward-deputy assailed, I stood upon the defensive. "Pooh!" said he, impatiently; and snuffing the candles, put one out, and then pushed the snuffers and tray off the table. 66 ing, Really, Mr. Snubbs," I was on the point of say"when I reflect You reflect," he retorted. I could bear his temper no longer. "Mister John Snubbs- "" "Don't Mister me, Sir !" he abruptly interrupted: Hand me the lemon-squeezer-do!" I handed it to him, hoping to allay his evident irritability by the readiness of my condescension. It was lost upon him. I have often thought that I don't know whether any one has much to thank his stars for who has the fortune to have a man of genius for his friend, persons of rare intellect are so much in the habit of treating all other persons, when below them, so cavalierly-stand so much upon their superiority-and make their poor friends feel so frequently the difference there is between them. However, I en deavoured not to rebel; and to turn his anger aside, I said, good-humouredly, "Come, now, Snubbs, don't be so crusty! Stir the fire"-he did, but rather severely, as I thought;—" light your cigar"-he lit it; "and I'll give you a toast and sentiment." "Oh, with all my heart!" said he, but still a little sulkily. "Well, then- Here's may we have in our arms what we love in our hearts!' a favourite toast of my Lord Chesterfield's." "Hah!" he remarked, laughing ironically, "I know what would be in your arms in that case." I was curious to know what, and I accordingly inquired. "Either the Mint or the Bank," he answered, "for I can safely say that you love nothing so much as gold." "I love nothing but gold!" I exclaimed, in astonishment at so barefaced an assertion. "Yes, that is your god! I assert it! And if ever there should again be another political run for it, I know who will be first at the whipping-post." I had made up my mind not to be offended with his sarcasms, so I laughed. Even that did not please him. "D-n it, Twaddle," he cried out," it is quite provoking that there is no provoking you! But thereI forgive you!" "Because you have tried to offend me and I would'nt be offended-eh?" I put in, by way of a poke in his ribs. "Well, well, let it pass! The punch is good -isn't it?" he inquired, good-humouredly. 66 Capital!" I confessed-it would have been a sin to have denied it. "And you'll go to Gravesend, like a good boy?" "To-morrow, if you like." 66 Agreed, nem. con. I'll name the party. Sister Fanny, Mrs. Jones, Jones, his brother Tom, Wilson, and Tomlins; they will all be ready and willing to |