“Legh, sir,” interrupted I.
“Ah, exactly; well, then, Mr. Fairlegh, let me introduce this gentleman, Mr. George Lawless, who has, if I mistake not, been already trying, with his usual benevolence, to supply a few of your deficiencies; he is, if he will allow me to say so, one of the most rising young men of his generation, one of the firmest props of the glorious edifice of our rights and privileges.”
“A regular brick,” interposed Coleman. “Hold your tongue, Freddy: little boys should be seen and not heard, as Tacitus tells us,” said Lawless, reprovingly.
The only reply to this, if reply it could be called, was something which sounded to me like a muttered reference to the Greek historian Walker, whom Lawless had so lately mentioned; and Cumberland continued:—
“You will pay great attention to everything Lawless tells you, and endeavour to improve by following his example, at a respectful distance—ahem! The gentleman on your right hand, Mr. Mullins, who is chiefly remarkable for looking ['like a fool,' put in Coleman, sotto voce], before he leaps, so long, that in general he postpones leaping altogether, and is in the habit of making ['an ass of himself,' suggested Coleman]—really, Freddy, I am surprised at you—of making two bites at a cherry—you will be better able to appreciate when you know more of him. As to my young friend Freddy here, his naturally good abilities and amiable temper ['Draw it mild, old fellow!' interrupted the young gentleman in question] have interested us so much in his favour that we cannot but view with regret a habit he has of late fallen into, of turning everything into ridicule ['What a pity!' from the same individual], together with a lamentable addiction to the use of slang terms. Let me hope his association with such a polished young gentleman as Mr. Fairlegh may improve him in these particulars.”
“Who drank Mildman's ale at dinner?” asked Coleman; “if that's a specimen of his polished manners, I think mine take the shine out of them, rather.” "I assure you,” interrupted I, eagerly, “I never was more distressed in my life; it was quite a mistake.”
“Pretty good mistake—Hodgson's pale ale for Muddytub's swipes—eh, Mull?” rejoined Coleman.
“I believe you,” replied Mullins.
“Well, now for entering your name; that's important, you know,” said Lawless; “you had better ring the bell, and tell Thomas to bring the books.”
I obeyed, and when Thomas made his appearance informed him of my desire to enter my name in the books of the establishment, which I begged he would bring for that purpose. A look of bewilderment that came over his face on hearing my request changed to an expression of intelligence, as, after receiving some masonic sign from Lawless, he replied:—