[ 26 ] [JULY 



" YOU'RE FINED !" 



A TALE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 



WALKING the other day in Cheapside, just behind a besmirched, bespat- 

 tered pantaloon, which, in spite of a mid-day throng and a mud-encrusted 

 street, was courageously endeavouring to " pick its way," 1 was going to 

 moralize, when it struck me that I would pass the person who wore the 

 trowser, and so peep wantonly, as it were, at the countenance of one who 

 seemed so fruitlessly careful; and, being well stocked with modern 

 assurance, I ventured still farther, and, " Sir/' said I, dropping a wag- 

 gish look at the sludgy pavement, "I'm afraid it won't do!" " What 

 won't do, Sir ?" It was an elderly personage who spoke, with a countenance 

 none of the most prepossessing in fact, rather cynical than not. " Ah!" 

 continued he, " my old stage-companion, Mr. Quick, how do you do, Sir ?" 

 Now it was that I found myself in a nice pickle, having stumbled on a 

 comical old q;jiz, who had borne the travel of the day with me from Cam- 

 bridge the week before ; and had brutally annoyed me, moreover (being 

 myself a Cambridge man), with sundry malevolent illustrations of the 

 purity which distinguishes university elections there. After having explained 

 the awkward street rencontre, which I set down wholly to the score of my 

 waggish humour, the treatment of my Alma Mater rushed freshly into my 

 mind ; and I was just about to exclaim, " The Morning Herald is decidedly 

 wrong in its calculations about Cambridge-men," when he said, " You 

 remember, Mr. Quick, how soon 1 discovered you to be a lawyer!" Here 

 was another plaguy reminiscence ; for, although we may not feel ashamed 

 of our several vocations, we always love to pride ourselves on being men of 

 the world, and hate to have people peering into our wherewithals the 

 moment we are launched from the office. " I remember very well, Sir,'* 

 said I, with any thing but a smile. " Aye, and I can tell anybody's 

 business too, Sir, after conversing with them a few minutes; they'll be 

 sure to blab out their calling in some way or other." I never had any 

 presence of mind, or I might have asked this tiresome stranger if he had 

 never blabbed out his own. " I tell you what, Sir," said he ; " did you 

 ever eat any soup at Birch's ? because, if you never did, it is time that 

 you should; and, if you have, you know its value, and will be glad to eat 

 again. If you will go in there, I will tell you a very curious story about 

 the peculiarities which attend the conversation of most men, and betray 

 their pursuits in life." So I agreed, glad enough to escape the Cambridge 

 election ; and heard his story, which I propose to print as a bonne 

 douche. 



" A few days ago/' said my old codger, having acquired a basin of 

 Birch's best, in which Cayenne was luxuriating, " a few days ago I fell 

 into company with a parson, a lawyer, and a doctor ; and, as we were all 

 well acquainted, it was agreed that we should sally forth, the next day, from 

 the smoke of the metropolis, and spend an hour or two at Richmond. Every 

 arrangement being made, I proposed to start by the steam-packet, which, 

 you know, is a delightful conveyance ; but the doctor, who had just been 

 reading an account of an American vessel which blew up, positively objected, 

 and urged the inside of the coach. ' I demur to that/ said the lawyer; 

 and well he might for it was a hot August forenoon. But a pleasant 

 thought struck me, and, ' How plainly every body may see that you're 



