If you're not off I'll call for the police!"
THE CITY "FAST MAN."
Faddle is a distinguished member of the Stock Exchange, and decidedly one of the "fastest men" in the City. He makes his appearance in the City at about half-past eleven every day; strolls about the neighbourhood of the Bank, with his hands in the pockets of his coat-tails; takes a sandwich at the Auction Mart, or oysters in Finch Lane; and goes away about three, with the idea that he has been very busy. We first met him at the Hanover Square Rooms. His dress was rather peculiar; and at the first glance you said (to yourself), "This is no common man;" and it is rather singular that the more you knew of him, the more you became confirmed in that opinion. His coat was very long in the waist, with singularly capacious sleeves; his neckcloth very narrow; and his whiskers a triumph of art in the curling line. His waistcoat was considerably larger than any you ever saw, except on an ostler; his shirt was embroidered and very transparent, with some pink substance underneath, that made one fancy he had recently been using the flesh-brush very vigorously. His trousers were very tight about the legs; and his boots very tight about the feet. The first remark he made was on a young lady, who he said was "a good stepper." He next stated that he had been at the "Corner" all day: on our inquiring where that was, he said, with a contemptuous look, "Tattersall's, to be sure!" He then told us that Lord Levant's "Wide Awake" was a likely horse for the Leger; and said, if we were doing anything on it, we had better not lay out our money on Captain Spavin's "Flare Up." His next inquiry was if we knew Tom Spraggs? and upon our answering in the negative, he ejaculated, quite loud, "Don't he drive cattle, that's all?" We fancied at first that Mr. Spraggs might be a drover, but abandoned the idea in favour of its being some technical term we did not understand. Here the conversation flagged, and to resuscitate it we made a remark on Mr. Faddle's coat-studs, and asked what they were made of? "Teeth," he said. "Teeth!" we could not help exclaiming; "what teeth?" "Why, foxes' teeth, to be sure," he said, turning away with an air of infinite disgust, and never spoke to us again.
We watched him at supper, and found he did not wait on other people much, but took great care of himself. We heard him offer to get a spaniel of some extraordinary breed for a young lady; but he never thought of asking her if she would take anything, though he was eating all the while himself. His appetite, in fact, was rather extensive. He partook largely of the substantials, then addressed himself to the plovers' eggs and lobster salads, and finished with a deep tankard of beer, which he called "malt." Later in the evening we thought a strong odour of tobacco pervaded the hall, and going out we found the "fast man" with a "weed in his off-cheek," as he elegantly expressed it, just preparing to start. His dog-cart was at the door, he jumped in, the small tiger (quite a portable boy) climbed up behind, Mr. Faddle blew a few loud notes with his post-horn, and we saw him no more.
EXPRESSIVE CHINESE PROVERBS.
New milk is not got from a statue.
An emperor may have the measles.
A disobedient son is a mad bull tied to his father's pigtail.
The man who breaks his egg in the centre is a fool.