72 A TROT, AND A DINNER PARTY. 



Park at Philadelphia, were the pair of phenomenons 

 entrusted, and after being duly blanketed, were led 

 away as fast as the admiring concourse, first of gen- 

 tlemen, then of gentlemen's gentlemen, and lastly of 

 stud-grooms, boys, and riders would allow it, to their 

 stable. 



An hour or two glided away very pleasantly at the 

 club; our Virginian was introduced to every one 

 worth knowing, and, what was more agreeable, every 

 one that was worth knowing, seemed very glad to 

 know him. Nor did any thing happen in any way 

 likely to annoy his amour propre^ or tread, sensitive 

 and jealous as he was of men's opinions, upon what a 

 lively Frenchman has not inaptly called the corns of 

 his mind. Once he did, indeed, overhear Jardinier 

 expressing his wonder to Tom Gascoigne, Dick Oliver, 

 Cecil Forester, and a few others, that Colonel Fair- 

 fax, who after all was only an American — he would 

 have said " Yankee," but that he supposed that term 

 to indicate some almost unknown variety of the hu- 

 man race — should be so white, and should dress and 

 speak so much like other people. " One has heard, 

 you know," this genius continued, who has latterly 

 become by the way a poetical contributor to the fash- 

 ionable annuals — " that they are copper-colored, you 

 know, and wear scalp-locks and blankets, and make a 

 strange sort of snuffing through their noses, which they 

 call talking, you know ; and which white folks call a 

 war-whoop. I've half a mind to ask him about it." 



" I would keep it a half mind," replied Tom Gas- 

 coigne, laughing as if he would kill himself; '' at least 

 I would not do it, were I you, for a thousand ; for 

 whether he wears. a scalp-lock himself, or takes scalps 

 from others, I don't know ; but I don't think he looks 

 a very likely fellow to take much nonsense, or to have 

 the most profound respect for the privileges of peers, 

 whether they understand arithmetic or no." 



