The Me?^ry Past 



which struck such a pleasant note of colour in the 

 streets. 



Though his costume was more subdued, the nine- 

 teenth-century buck could be as insolent as his pre- 

 decessor of a quarter of a century before. 



" I believe," said one of these gentlemen, enter- 

 ing a room full of his friends, " that I was drunk 

 enough last night to ask some of you fellows to 

 dine." 



" Possibly," said a quiet man in the corner ; " but, 

 if you are referring to me, I may tell you that I never 

 could have been drunk enough to accept." 



" Damme, sir," said a young buck to a country 

 gentleman in a coffee-house, " you look like a groom." 

 " I am one," was the reply, " and ready to rub an ass 

 down." 



Another sporting dandy found that his carriage 

 could not be driven up to the house, in consequence 

 of a heap of stones lying in the way. Irritated at 

 the circumstance, he leaned out of the window, 

 and, with a volley of oaths, asked an Irish labourer 

 who stood near why those stones were not removed. 

 " Where can I move 'em to ? " " Move them 

 anywhere — move them to hell ! " "I think," re- 

 joined Paddy, " they'd be more out of your honour's 

 way if I moved 'em to heaven." 



Even more crushing was the repartee of the bargee, 

 who in a slanging match was begged to remember 

 that he was talking to a gentleman. 



" Gentleman, indeed," said he ; " you a gentleman ! 

 Then, damme, if I beant a lord." 



170 



