"Whoop! Sir Harcourt, I always tie it myself: you can never make a fop of a fox-hunter.” "My dear Squire, if you were to break your neck to-morrow, it would surely be a consolation to have a tasteful cravat round it-to fall like Cæsar, and die in a becoming manner. Life is uncertain, and you have two other duties to perform which should not be neglected for a single moment-you should get ruffles of Spanish point instead of Venice, and change this horridly unbecoming glass. You stout fellows are so fond of mirrors that make one look thin."

"Yoicks! tantivy! tally-ho!" roared the Squire, as he saw Goldingham's carriage draw up to the door; "we have unkennelled the old fox; lay on the dogs, my lads and lasses, and let us start him for a good day's sport." At this exclamation the company betook themselves to the window, not a little amused at the sight of Timothy, with his beard and trunk hose, the corpulent coach-horses smoking with their exertions, the old-fashioned vehicle, and the still more antiquated appearance of its proprietor.

.

Having made the party for the express purpose of "showing up the old badger," as he termed it, and turning his new guest into ridicule, the Squire began the sports of the day by introducing him with a mock ceremoniousness to each individual present, as Mr. Isaac Goldingham, of Goldingham Place, which words he took every opportunity of repeating, till the room seemed to echo with no other sounds. Most of the company found it difficult to repress a smile as they returned the formal salutations of the new visitant, but Sir Harcourt was not to be betrayed into any departure from his uniform politeness. His low and graceful bow occasioning the ends of his periwig to fall forward, he gave his head a tender shake as he arose, like a water-spaniel emerging from the wave; and casting down his eyes for a moment, to see that every thing had fallen into its proper place, he resumed the gracious expression of his countenance, and recovered the becoming attitude in which he had been previously standing.

"A most singular-looking personage, is he

REUBEN APSLEY.

not?" whispered Lady Crockatt, who, in spite of all her protestations to the contrary, had joined the party, though she still kept her smell

ing-bottle to her nose.

"I was not, like

plied Sir Harcourt,

my

friend Sunderland," re

66 so fortunate as to see

my Lord Keeper Guilford riding upon the rhinoceros; but I hold myself well indemnified by witnessing the arrival of Mr. Goldingham and his equipage. I consider him altogether a very curious lusus naturæ, and one that would make a rare addition to Ashmole's Museum, at Lambeth, though I believe he does not admit live specimens."

As Lady Crockatt was the only person, except Chinnery, with whom Goldingham had

made

any previous acquaintance, he now interrupted her whispering by inquiring the state of her health, expressing a hope that the pain in her side had abated, congratulating her on her improved appearance, and not forgetting to ask after Cynthia. The magic of this inquiry, and the chance of a fresh listener, just as the last of the old ones had been used up, immediately

reconciled her to her new acquaintance, spite of his odious associations, and elevated him into a confident of her complaints.

While her ladyship was indulging her usual hospital strain, Chinnery who had covertly possessed himself of Goldingham's flat three cornered beaver, took a chair behind him, and placed it upon his own head, a piece of buffoonery which was received with such a boisterous shout of laughter by the Squire, and a half suppressed tittering by other portions of the company, that Goldingham looked round to discover the cause of their merriment, when the purloiner of the hat adroitly slipped it behind his chair, began rubbing his chin with infinite gravity, and seemed to be lost in a deep reverie. Fresh laughter accompanied this rapid transformation, and Chinnery, encouraged by success, thought he might venture an attempt at dumfounding the old gentleman. This pastime, which was a practical joke, then in high repute with the wags and witlings, consisted in giving some unsuspecting party a smart rap between the shoulders, with such dexterity that he

REUBEN APSLEY.

should be unable to discover to whom he was
indebted for the favour. Providing himself
with a small stick for the purpose, the operator
inflicted a severe blow upon Goldingham's back,
who turning suddenly round with some wrath
and greater amazement, saw nobody behind
him but Lady Crockatt, fanning herself with
one hand and holding her smelling-bottle in the
other. All joined in the laugh occasioned by
angry
and bewildered look of the sufferer,
except Sir Harcourt, who refrained from a sense
of politeness, and Sir Ambrose Jessop, who
was fearful of giving offence to so stern-looking

the

a personage.

Sir Ambrose had attired himself for the party with his usual finical formality. One of the knots of his tye wig hung over his shoulder, his fringed cravat was elaborately twisted down his breast, and the end drawn through a gold edged button-hole, and no spindle-shanked prig of a gentleman-usher ever stood more bolt upright, or drew on his long laced glove with a more solemn countenance. While he was thus occupied, Chinnery, meaning to kill two birds