Sir, in my father's library I happened to fall in with those books; and I read them in secret, just as I used to go in private and drink beer, and fight cocks, and smoke pipes with Jack and Tom, the grooms in the stables.

Mrs.Newcome found me, I recollect, with one of those books; and thinking it might be by Mrs.Hannah More, or some of that sort, for it was a grave-looking volume: and though I wouldn't lie about that or anything else--never did, sir; never, before heaven, have I told more than three lies in my life--I kept my own counsel; I say, she took it herself to read one evening; and read on gravely--for she had no more idea of a joke than I have of Hebrew--until she came to the part about Lady B---- and Joseph Andrews; and then she shut the book, sir; and you should have seen the look she gave me! I own I burst out a-laughing, for I was a wild young rebel, sir.

But she was in the right, sir, and I was in the wrong.

A book, sir, that tells the story of a parcel of servants, of a pack of footmen and ladies'-maids fuddling in alehouses! Do you suppose I want to know what my kitmutgars and cousomahs are doing?
I am as little proud as any man in the world: but there must be distinction, sir; and as it is my lot and Clive's lot to be a gentleman, I won't sit in the kitchen and boose in the servants'-hall.

As for that Tom Jones--that fellow that sells himself, sir--by heavens, my blood boils when I think of him! I wouldn't sit down in the same room with such a fellow, sir.