1st Gent. Puppy!
Mr. H. A Baronet at the table, seeing my dilemma, jogged my elbow; and a good-natured Duchess, who does everything with a grace peculiar to herself, trod on my toes at that instant: this brought me to myself, and—covered with blushes, and pitied by all the ladies—I withdrew.
1st Lady. How charmingly he tells a story.
2nd Lady. But how distressing!
Mr.H. Lord Squandercounsel, who is my particular friend, was pleased to rally me in his inimitable way upon it next day. I shall never forget a sensible thing he said on the occasion—speaking of absence of mind, my foible—says he, my dear Hogs—
Several Ladies. Hogs—what—ha—
Mr.H. My dear Hogsflesh—my name—(here a universal scream)—O my cursed unfortunate tongue! H. I mean—where was I?
1st Lady. Filthy—abominable!
2nd Lady. Unutterable!
3rd Lady. Hogs—foh!