“Whereabouts in London did you chiefly meet them?”
“Whereabouts? Oh, in Smithfield.”
“Dear me!” said I; “I thought that was rather a place for butchers than gentlemen.”
“Great place for gentlemen, I assure you,” said the figure; “met there the finest gentleman I ever saw in my life; very grand, but kind and affable, like every true gentleman. Talked to me a great deal about Anglesey runts, and Welsh legs of mutton, and at parting shook me by the hand, and asked me to look in upon him, if I was ever down in his parts, and see his sheep and taste his ale.”
“Do you know who he was?” said I.
“Oh yes; know all about him; Earl of Leicester, from county of Norfolk; fine old man indeed—you very much like him—speak just in same way.”
“Have you given up the business of drover long?” said I.
“Oh yes; given him up a long time, ever since domm’d railroad came into fashion.”
“And what do you do now?” said I.
“Oh, not much; live upon my means; picked up a little property, a few sticks, just enough for old crow to build him nest with—sometimes, however, undertake a little job for neighbouring people and get a little money. Can do everything in small way, if necessary; build little bridge, if asked;—Jack of all Trades—live very comfortably.”