Entirely at ease, with the seat of his breeches patched with stuff of another colour from the rest, and his toes sticking from his stockings, he was wholly unperturbed by the laughter of the assemblage.
Although attired in cocked hat, frock coat, and epaulettes, I had the speed of him, and waited on him. Then the devil entered into me; and when Lord —— drew abreast of a big plant of pampas grass, I cannoned into him, pitching him head first into the grass, not, of course, intending to harm him. But to my consternation and sorrow, Lord ——'s leg was broken below the knee. I put the poor lord into his coach—he had a coach and four-in-hand—and drove him back to his hotel. That excellent and magnanimous sportsman was perfectly unconcerned.
"You hit me a bad skelp, and I am destroyed," said he. "Never mind, they all laughed, anny way."
It was about this period of my life, when, returning from a ball in London in the early morning, I came upon a person selling whelks. He invited me to sup—or breakfast—upon a plate of these delicacies.
"How much do you charge for a plateful?"
"Threepence," said he.
"I'll give you sixpence for every plateful you eat yourself."
"Done," said he.
He finished two platefuls, and had begun a third, when he was overtaken by rebellion from within, swiftly followed by catastrophe.
"That's not fair," I said. "You can't count those two platefuls."