A FAT FRIEND. 107 



" Tother night I went to a ball at Brisbane House, 

 chiefly that I might enjoy as much as possible the society of 



Billy . He is just the very man I stood in need of. 



People wonder what I see about him, but they are asses, 

 and he is an angel. His age is sixty-three. His person, 

 face, and figure are, seriously speaking, not to be distin- 

 guished by the nicest eye from that of the late Dr ; 



indeed, between ourselves, I have reason to believe that it 

 is the Doctor himself. He is, however, not nearly such a 

 fool as he looks like ; the late Doctor, that is. He talks of 

 nothing but eatiug and drinking, and is alike powerful in 

 both ; and having lately spent a fortune on French cooks 

 and gourmanderie, he now billets himself alternately on 

 one or other of the members of the Yacht Club, and keeps 

 cruising about for an appetite the greater part of the 

 year. I saw by the first glimpse which I got of his beau- 

 tiful nose, whicli I almost mistook in the twilight for an 

 aurora borealis, that he was the ' properest man on earth' 

 for me, and I soon found my most sanguine hopes realised. 

 As a Dutch pilot once said to me, ' Wat is zoo zoet als 

 vriendschap ? ' * so I have found in the affection of Billy 

 . I took him with me to Ardencaple, where I com- 

 pleted my conquest by three several acts of kindness, 

 which my influence with the housekeeper enabled me to 

 bestow on him — roamed pork, boiled partridges, and fried 



* " What is so sweet as friendship ? " 



