GRESHAM GRASSHOPPER* 6 ( ,)5 



old friend Numberwell was in his right senses, -when, to the exclu- 

 sion of young Harrowby, he selected me for his intended son-in-law, 

 though I have never heard anything against the prudence of Har- 

 rowby, I must say that. But then he is young ; and, when we have 

 youthful blood to deal with, there is no answering for contingencies. 

 I lent Lord Creighton, the Duke of Nottingham's son, 5000/. this 

 very morning. Yet the clear-sighted world esteems him a prudent 

 young man ! Ah, ah, ah !" 



In this strain soliloquized the usurer Argent, a tall, gaunt per- 

 sonage, in his sixty-eighth year, with a quizzical, care-worn visage, 

 peering from beneath a russity scratch wig, as great an antiquity as 

 its owner ; and very probably picked up like that of old Elwes, 

 out of a rut the disdained and despised of a beggar. His clothes 

 were of dark material, and seemed too large for him, and Ii2 wore a 

 long spencer, which appeared to lie upon him by accident. 



Such was the man, appointed by the paternal solicitude of Sir 

 Crab to watch over and promote the happiness of a pretty girl of 

 eighteen,, with the endearing title of husband j and it was with the 

 intention of " doing a little billing and cooing," that the day after he 

 had enjoyed the pleasing reverie, just chronicled, he repaired, per 

 coach, to the seat of his friend Numberwell ; where, however, we 

 will take the liberty of preceding him. 



As the sun yet lingered on the tops of the highest neighbouring 

 hills Nnr head-hill, Dulwich-hill, and others gilding their stately 

 crests, with the glories of departing day, a travelling carriage drove 

 up to Yew-tree Lodge ; whence descended Wilmot Bolland Sir 

 Crab's nephew and his friend, Clayton. 



Heir to considerable wealth, there were not wanting rogues, and 

 sycophants enough to take advantage of youth. Prominent among 

 these worthies stood forth Mr. Philip Clayton, by whose counsel, 

 young Bolland, ruined by folly, plunged into crime. His fortune 

 was anticipated ; and, before twenty-five summers had passed over 

 him, his ingenuity was his only portion. Returning to Paris, after 'a 

 successful campaign in London, he called on his uncle, Sir Crab, 

 with the intention of extracting, in one way or other, some of the 

 contents of his strong box. But, although Sir Crab had not seen his 

 nephew for years, he was well acquainted with his propensities and 

 conduct ; and was therefore hastening into the room, where he had 

 been shown, with the determination of instantly dismissing the young 

 reprobate from his house, as his friend Argent made his usual 

 unceremonious entree. 



" What can have brought Lord Creighton here ?" asked the 

 usurer, the moment he perceived Sir Crab. " I knew not you were 

 acquainted with him." 



" Lord Creighton ! there's no Lord Creighton here." 

 " No Lord Creighton here ! I saw him enter but now. Perhaps, 

 however, his rank may have found favour with Fanny ? If so, what 

 need of mystery? I am neither young nor noble; yet I did 



hope " 



" Ah, ah, ah \" laughed Sir Crab. " Excuse me, Argent, excuse 

 me. Fit for St. Luke s, eh ? where certain 



brazen, brainless brothers stand.' " 



