278 The Steam- Boat ; a Paper of my Uncle's. [^Skpt. 



lieutenants of the navy, without interest, at a levy of Lord IMelville's — 

 when in office. Miss Biddlecombe was a pretty girl enough, but the 

 wealth of her ^;ry}« inspired her with a morbid rage Hoy fashion; which, 

 actuated with that ambition for attire, too prevalent among the middling 

 classes of society in England, exhibits the pui*est specimens of genuine 

 vulgarity ; and the young lady had, on this occasion, issued, in the glory 

 of her wardrobe, from Norton Falgatej resolved on the concealment of 

 that unnameable abode, by the highest airs of an exclusive, and the 

 flippant tone of West-end folly and presumption. She was reposing in 

 an attitude well adapted to the exhibition of a pretty foot and ankle, and 

 well-turned leg. Her bonnet was adjusted so as to disclose that beau- 

 tiful and indicative portion of a female — the neck, where a fair 

 skin and rich dark hair were beautifully blended and contrasted, at the 

 same time ; a handsome volume in her hand, on which she rather gazed 

 than read. The book was open at the play of " Love's last shift." A 

 handsome Frenchman, who, with the facility of good address, had 

 violated the cordon, which the mauvaise honle of all the Englishmen 

 respected — encountered the fair candidate for admiration. " Mais, il ne 

 semble. Mademoiselle, que vous vous amusez la, d'une maniere assez 

 triste. Puis-je me permettre la liberte de vous demander qu'est ce que 

 vous lisez la ?" " C'est, Monsieur," replied Miss Biddlecombe, " la 

 derniere chemise de I'amour." 



Among the many members of Miss Biddlecombe's cliie, the most pro- 

 minent, by far, was Mr. Botherby, a gentleman of sixty years, that, to 

 all appearance, had been devoted to the acquirement of facetious tales, 

 hons mots, and epigrams ; of which he was considered, by far, the largest 

 extant repository. He was, in his way, a kind of bazaar, where the hu- 

 mour of an audience might be suited with narratives and jokes at choice. 

 No man was better known on town ; he was conversant in the pro- 

 prieties of every sort of esculation, from a frescuti pic-nic, or a sprat 

 supper, to the banquet of the noble and urbane; and his nose served as 

 an annual register of these Apician festivities, which were regularly, in 

 the remembrance of his friends, recorded by a full-blown addition to the 

 carbuncular glories of that blushing organ — in the summer-season, 

 rivalling the hue of the deepest peony ; and, in the wintry months, pre- 

 senting the darker and more tempestuous colour of a thunder-cloud. 

 Mr. Botherby was charged to the brim with anecdote and pun, epigram, and 

 rhebus ; and it took a full day's exercise to exhaust his fund ; though a se- 

 cond day as certainly reduced him to the " crambe repetita." He stood 

 in no need of preparation — of no economy of matter — in boat or coach — 

 walking or sitting, he opened the narrative store of his remembrance, 

 like pulling up a slui :e, and away went the torrent of farrago, in turbu- 

 lent rhapsody, till the vessel of his memory was dry, and the operation 

 of the wine or spirit had silenced the laborious member, which served in 

 the obstetric duty of its delivery. His style, at length, assumed the 

 character of mannerism — all things were introduced with a succinct, but 

 proper preface; " the anecdote just mentioned, reminded him of one, 

 •which he would, in a few words, relate." Another was narrated " as a 

 singular coincidence;" a third, "in illustration of the former;*' "being 

 on such a subject, he could not refrain from mentioning an interesting 

 fact — a similar occurrence — a miraculous escape — an incomparable re- 

 partee." In short, he could meet a party even-handed, with a fellow to 

 every stoiy, pun, or accident— a rival for every prodigy, a companion for 



