He is a sort of index to every thing, and every body; his knowledge of life and character, together with a facetiousness of whim and manner, which he has in delineating them, are what we call in London--_Prime and bang up to the mark_.

There is scarcely a Lane, Court, Alley, or Street, in the Metropolis, but what he knows, from the remotest corners of Rag-Fair, to the open and elegant Squares of the West, even to Hyde Park Corner.

Memory, mirth, and magic, seem at all times to animate his tongue, and, as the Song says, "He is the hoy for bewitching 'em, Whether good-humour'd or coy." Indeed, he is the admiration of all who know him; wit, whim, frolic, and fun, are constant companions with him, and I really believe, in a dungeon or a palace, he would always appear the same." By this time they had reached Bond Street, in their way to which, each step they had taken, the streets and avenues of every description appeared to Bob to be crowded to an excess; the mingling cries which were ~68~~vociferated around them produced in his mind uncommon sensations.

The rattling of the carriages, the brilliance of the shops, and the continual hum of the passengers, contributed to heighten the scene.
"Bond Street," said Dashall, "is not one of the most elegant streets in the vicinity of London, but is the resort of the most fashionable people, and from about two o'clock till five, it is all bustle--all life--every species of fashionable vehicle is to be seen dashing along in gay and gallant pride.

From two to five are the fashionable shopping-hours, for which purpose the first families resort to this well-known street--others, to shew their equipage, make an assignation, or kill a little time; which is as much a business with some, as is the more careful endeavours of others to seize him in his flight, and make the most of his presence.