114 



Mr. Metal 



tioning, and grumbling, producing a miserable half-a- 

 sovereign from his waistcoat-pocket — like that stingy old 

 dog Turtleton (who has forty thousand a year at the very 

 least) did the other day — simply observing that he liked a 

 horgan in a church uncommon, just sat down and wrote 

 the rector a cheque for a '' pony," as he called it, on the 

 spot. Mr. Metal thus "stood in," to use a slang expres- 

 sion, uncommonly well with the church, but the ladies in 

 his neighbourhood would not have him or his daughter at 

 any price, notwithstanding; so they had to depend 

 entirely on their own personal friends from town, and 

 sundry gay bachelors, like Captain Dabber and Charlie 

 Wildoats (the latter an old acquaintance of the book- 

 maker's), for company. Mr. Metal used to come out in 

 great force on those festive occasions when he had a few 

 friends to dinner. On those occasions nothing was too 

 good for him and his guests. The meiioo, as he called it 

 was written in his daughter's very best hand, as taught at 

 the very exclusive school at Brighton, in which she had 

 passed several years, and an uncommon good menoo it was, 

 for Metal possessed a cook who had received her educa- 

 tion under no less a personage than the great Francatelli 

 himself. Old Captain Dabber, who knew what was what 

 as well as any man living, would have two helps of 

 Supreme de Volaille, and give a growl of satisfaction as 

 he gobbled away at it, like a dog over a good bone. The 

 haunch of venison would have a history — ^just sent 

 him by Sir Charles Flutter — (Sir Charles owed 

 Metal a bit). The grouse came from a prominent member 

 of the Jockey Club's moor : and the claret — wasn't there a 

 history about the claret ? '' Poor Lord Dreadnought — it's 

 his claret," would say Metal, heaving a sympathetic sigh, 



