"Not dear, I must say," observed the gentleman, after he had read the bill; "I must patronise this house again. The port is really good wine; I knew it again directly,—£1. 4s. 6d.—half-a-crown for the waiter, £1. 7s." Then the gentleman put his hand into his right waistcoat pocket, and felt for his purse, found it not there, so he inserted his other hand into his left waistcoat pocket, no purse there.—"Hum," says he, with surprise; down went his right hand into the pocket of his buckskins on the right side, no purse there; down into the left, even to the bottom, no purse there.—"The devil!" exclaimed he, feeling his coat pockets, as a last hope—both empty. "Why, waiter, I've left my purse!" exclaimed he, rising up from his seat; "and now, I perceive, I've not my watch and seals. I must have left them both on the table. You don't recollect me—what must I do?"
"If you please," replied the waiter, respectfully, coming to the point, "you must pay your bill."
"Of course I must," replied the gentleman; "I cannot expect you to trust me; what can I do? I must leave you something in pledge."
"If you please, sir," replied the waiter.
"What shall it be—my surtout coat? I can spare that."
"Yes, sir," replied the waiter, who surveyed his coat, and was satisfied; "that will do."
"Well, then, help me with it off. On second thoughts, I do not think I can let you have my coat, I have suffered so dreadfully with the rheumatism in my shoulders. I dare not, upon my soul, I daren't; you must have something else. What shall it be—my boots, my new white top-boots?"
"I think, sir, you couldn't well walk away in stockings without getting cold and rheumatism," replied the waiter.
"Very true, what a fool I am! but so unaccustomed to be placed in so awkward a position, I do believe I've lost my senses—to give my boots were madness. I'll tell you how it shall be, waiter, I'll give you my buckskins—bran new—worth two pair of boots; I shan't miss them if I walk fast and button up."