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Whén our hero had finished and sent this letter, he went to his scrutore, took out Miss Western's muff, kissed it several times, and then strutted some turns about his room, with more satisfaction of mind than ever any Irishman felt in carrying, off a fortune of fifty thousand pounds.

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CHAP. XII. A Discovery made by Purtridge. WHILE Jones was exulting in the consciousness of his integrity, Partridge came capering into the room, as was his custom when he brought, or fancied he brought, any good tidings. He had been dispatched that morning by his master, with orders to endeavour, by the servants of lady Bellaston, or by any other means, to discover whither Sophia had been conveyed; and he now returned, and with a joyful countenance told our hero, that he had found the lost bird. • I have seen, Sir,' says he, ‘Black George, the gamekeeper, who is one of the servants whom the 'squire hath brought with him to town. I knew him presently, though • I have not seen him these several years; but you 'know, Sir, he is a very remarkable man, or to use

a purer phrase, he hath a most remarkable beard, ' the largest and blackest I ever saw. It was some time, however, before Black George could recol

lect me.'—Well, but what is your good news?' cries Jones, “What do you know of my Sophia ?'

* You shall know presently, Sir,' answered Partridge,' I am coming to it as fast as I can.* You are so impatient, Sir, you would come at the * infinitive mood, before you can get to the im“perative. As I was saying, Sir, it was some time • before he recollected my face.'-Confound your

face,' cries Jones, what of my Sophia ?' • Nay, Sir,' answered Partridge, “I know nothing

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VOL. VII.

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'more of Madam Sophia, than what I am going ' to tell you; and I should have told you all be'fore this if you had not interrupted me; but if

you look so angry at me, you will frighten all of it ' out of my head, or, to use a purer phrase, out of my memory. I never saw you look so angry since the day we left Upton, which I shall re'member if I was to live a thousand years.

Well, pray go on in your own way,' said Jones; you are resolved to make me mad, I find.' Not ' for the world,' answered Partridge, I have suf

' ' fered enough for that already; which, as I said, ' I shall bear in my remembrance the longest day • I have to live.'-'Well, but Black George?' cries Jones. — Well, Sir, as I was saying, it was a long * time before he could recollect me; for, indeed, I 'am very much altered since I saw him. Non 'sum qualis eram. I have had troubles in the ' world, and nothing alters a man so much as grief. 'I have heard it will change the colour of a man's ' hair in a night. However, at last, know me he did, that's sure enough; for we are both of an age, and were at the same charity-school. George was a great dunce, but no matter for that; all 'men do not thrive in the world according to their ' learning. I am sure I have reason to say so; but ' it will be all one a thousand years hence. · Well, a

"Sir,---where was 1?--0--well, we no sooner knew each other, than, after many hearty shakes by the hand, we agreed to go to an alehouse and "take a pot, and by good luck the beer was some

of the best I have met with since I have been in 'town.--Now, Sir, I am coming to the point; for

no sooner did I name you, and told him that you ' and I came to town together, and had lived together ever since, than he called for another pot, and swore he would drink to your health; and indeed he drank your health so heartily, that I ' was overjoyed to see there was so much gratitude ' left in the world; and after we had emptied that

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pot, I said I would be my pot too, and so we * drank another to your health; and then I made 'haste home to teli you the news.'

What news?' cries Jones, you have not men. tioned a word of my Sopliia! -- Bless me! I had • like to have forgot that. Indeed, we mentioned

a great deal about young Madam Western, and 'George told me all; that Mr. Blifil is coming to • town in order to be married to her. He had best 'make haste then, says I, or somebody will have 'her before he comes; and, indeed, says I, Mr. Seagrim, it is a thousand pities somebody should not have her; for he certainly loves her above all * the women in the world. I would have both you .and she know, that it is not for her fortune he follows her; for I can assure you as to matter of that, there is another lady, one of much greater

quality and fortune than she can pretend to, who ‘is so fond of somebody, that she comes after him * day and night.'

Here Jones fell into a passion with Partridge, for having, as he said, betrayed him; but the poor fellow answered, he had mentioned no name: 'Be

sides, Sir,' said he, “I can assure you, George is sincerely your friend, and wished Alr. Blitil at the devil more than once; nay, he said he would do ‘any thing in his power upon earth to serve you; .and so I am convinced he will.-Betray you, in' deed! why, I question whether you have a better i friend than George upon earth, except myself, or one that would go farther to serve you.

• Well,' says Jones, a little pacified, you say * this fellow, who, I believe, indeed, is enough in

clined to be my friend, lives in the same house with Sophia ?'

• In the same house!' answered Partridg?;? why, Sir, he is one of the servants of the forily, and very welcrest I promise you ho is; ii it was not * for his black beard, you would hardly know him.'

* One service then at least he may do me' say's

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Jones; 'sure he can certainly convey a letter to 'my Sophia.'

You have hit the nail ad unguem,' cries Partridge; “How came I not to think of it! I will 'engage he shall do it upon the very first men' tioning.'

Well then,' said Jones, do you leave me at “present, and I will write a letter which you shall

a • deliver to him to-morrow morning; for I suppose you know where to find him.

O yes, Sir,' answered Partridge, I shall certainly find him again; there is no fear of that. 'The liquor is too good for him to stay away ' long. I make no doubt but he will be there

I every day he stays in town.'

“So you don't know the street then where my Sophia is lodged?' cries Jones. • Indeed, Sir, I do,' says Partridge. . What is the name of the street ? cries Jones.

. The name, Sir, why here, Sir, just by,' an swered Partridge, not above a street or two off. *I don't, indeed, know the very name; for as he 6

never told me, if I had asked, you know it might ' have put some suspicion into his head. No, no,

Sir, let me alone for that. I am too cunning for ' that, I promise you.'

· Thou art most wonderfully cunning, indeed," replied Jones; however, I will write to my charmer, since I believe you will be cunning enough to find him to-morrow at the alehouse.

And now having dismissed the sagacious Partridge, Mr. Jones sat himself down to write, in which employment we shall leave him for a time. And here we put an end to the fifteenth book.

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THE

HISTORY

OF A

FOUNDLING.

BOOK XVI.

Containing the Space of Five Days.

CHAP. I.

Of Prologues. I HAVE heard of a dramatic writer who used to say, he would rather write a play than a prologue; in like manner, I think, I can with less pains write one of the books of this history, than the prefatory chapter to each of them.

To say the truth, I believe many a hearty curse hath been devoted on the head of that Author, who first instituted the method of prefixing to his play that portion of matter which is called the prologue; and which at first was part of the piece itself, but of latter years hath had usually so little connexion with the drama before which it stands, that the prologue to one play might as well serve for any other. Those indeed of more modern date, seem all to be written on the same three topics, viz. an abuse of the taste of the town, a condemnation of

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