“By the way,” said Rawlins, “who put that squib in the papers about your having refused the rolls,—eh, Niel?”
“Who but Niel himself?” chimed in Repton. “It was filing a bill of discovery. He wanted to know the intentions of the Government.”
“I could have had but little doubt of them,” broke in Niel. “It was my advice, man, cancelled your appointment as Crown Counsel, Repton. I told Massingbred, 'If you do keep a watch-dog, let it be, at least, one who 'll bite some one beside the family.'”
“He has muzzled you there, Repton,” said Rawlins, laughing. “Eh, that was a bitter draught!”
“So it was,” said Repton. “It was Curran wine run to the lees! and very unlike the racy flavor of the true liquor. And to speak in all seriousness, what has come over us all to be thus degenerate and fallen? It is not alone that we have not the equals of the first-rate men, but we really have nothing to compare with O'Grady, and Parsons, and a score of others.”
“I 'll tell you why,” cried Niel,—“the commodity is n't marketable. The stupid men, who will always be the majority everywhere, have got up the cry, that to be agreeable is to be vulgar. We know how large cravats came into fashion; tiresome people came in with high neckcloths.”
“I wish they 'd go out with hempen ones, then,” muttered Repton.
“I 'd not refuse them the benefit of the clergy,” said Niel, with a malicious twinkle of the eye, that showed how gladly, when occasion offered, he flung a pebble at the Church.
“They were very brilliant,—they were very splendid, I own,” said Rawlins; “but I have certain misgivings that they gave themselves too much to society.”
“Expended too much of their powder in fireworks,” cried Niel, sharply,—“so they did; but their rockets showed how high they could rise to.”