Awful and huge, he treads the ground like one of Bruce's moving pillars of sand! What a dark and deep abyss he carries before him—the grave insatiate of turtle and turbot, red mullet and John Dories, haunches and pasties, claret, port, and home-brewed ale! But his good-humour alone would keep him at twenty stone were he to cease larding himself for a month to come; and when he falls, may the turf lie lightly on his stomach! Then shall he melt gently into rich manure;

'And fat be the gander that feeds on his grave.'"
"But now for the moderns," said Horace; "for the
enchanting fair,
'Whose snow-white bosoms fascinate the eye,
Swelling in all the pride of nudity;

The firm round arm, soft cheek, and pouting lip,
And backs exposed below the jutting hip;
To these succeed dim eyes, and wither'd face»,
And pucker'd necks as rough as shagreen cases,
But whose kind owners, hon'ring Bladud's ball,
Benevolently show their little all.'"

But I must not particularize here, as I intend sketching the more prominent personages during a morning lounge in Milsom-street; when, appearing in their ordinary costume, they will be the more easily recognised in print, and remain a more lasting memorial of Bath eccentrics,

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SKETCHES IN BATH—CHAPTER II.

Well-known Characters in the Pump-room taking a Sip with
King Bladud—Free Sketches of Fair Game—The awkward
Rencontre, or Mr. B———and Miss L.—Public Bathing or
stewing alive—Sober Thoughts—Milsom-street Swells—A
Visit to the Pig and Whistle, Avon-street—of the Buff
Club.
To the pump-room we went, where the grave, and the gay,
And the aged, and the sickly, lounge time away;
Where all the choice spirits are seen making free
With the sov'reign cordial, the true eau de vie.

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