I have been doing a trot in that favoured quarter, favoured by art and nature.

A few chosen comrades--enemies of publicity and friends to wit and wine--obliged me with their society.

"Along the cool, sequestered vale of Register Street we kept the uneven tenor of our way," sir.' 'It struck me, as you came in--' I began.
'O, don't make any bones about it!' he interrupted.

'Of course it struck you! and let me tell you I was devilish lucky not to strike myself.

When I entered this apartment I shone "with all the pomp and prodigality of brandy and water," as the poet Gray has in another place expressed it.
Powerful bard, Gray! but a niminy-piminy creature, afraid of a petticoat and a bottle--not a man, sir, not a man! Excuse me for being so troublesome, but what the devil have I done with my fork?
Thank you, I am sure.