I am growing great in Latin verses, and neglect the laces of my boots.

Doctor Strong refers to me in public as a promising young scholar.

Mr.Dick is wild with joy, and my aunt remits me a guinea by the next post.
The shade of a young butcher rises, like the apparition of an armed head in Macbeth.

Who is this young butcher?
He is the terror of the youth of Canterbury.

There is a vague belief abroad, that the beef suet with which he anoints his hair gives him unnatural strength, and that he is a match for a man.