Hoskins checked this ribaldry by sternly looking towards Nadab, and at the same time called upon the gents to give their orders, the waiter being in the room, and Mr. Bellew about to sing a song.

Newcome's father came up and held out his hand to me. I dare say I blushed, for I had been comparing him to the admirable Harley in the Critic, and had christened him Don Ferolo Whiskerandos.

He spoke in a voice exceedingly soft and pleasant, and with a cordiality so simple and sincere, that my laughter shrank away ashamed, and gave place to a feeling much more respectful and friendly. In youth, you see, one is touched by kindness. A man of the world may, of course, be grateful or not as he chooses.

»I have heard of your kindness, sir,« says he, »to my boy. And whoever is kind to him is kind to me. Will you allow me to sit down by you? and may I beg you to try my cheroots?« We were friends in a minute – young Newcome snuggling by my side, his father opposite, to whom, after a minute or two of conversation, I presented my three college friends.

»You have come here, gentlemen, to see the wits,« says the Colonel. »Are there any celebrated persons in the room? I have been five-and-thirty years from home, and want to see all that is to be seen.«

King of Corpus (who was an incorrigible wag) was on the point of pulling some dreadful long bow, and pointing out a half-dozen of people in the room as R. and H. and L., etc., the most celebrated wits of that day; but I cut King's shins under the table, and got the fellow to hold his tongue.

»Maxima debetur pueris,« says Jones (a fellow of very kind feeling, who has gone into the Church since), and writing on his card to Hoskins, hinted to him that a boy was in the room, and a gentleman who was quite a greenhorn: hence that the songs had better be carefully selected.

And so they were. A lady's school might have come in, and but for the smell of the cigars and brandy-and-water, have taken no harm by what happened. Why should it not always be so? If there are any Caves of Harmony now, I warrant Messieurs the landlords their interests would be better consulted by keeping their singers within bounds. The very greatest scamps like pretty songs, and are melted by them; so are honest people. It was worth a guinea to see the simple Colonel, and his delight at the music. He forgot all about the distinguished wits whom he had expected to see in his ravishment over the glees.

»I say, Clive, this is delightful. This is better than your aunt's concert with all the Squallinis, hey? I shall come here often. Landlord, may I venture to ask those gentlemen if they will take any refreshment? What are their names? (to one of his neighbours). I was scarcely allowed to hear any singing before I went out, except an oratorio, where I fell asleep; but this, by George, is as fine as Incledon!« He became quite excited over his sherry-and-water. (»I'm sorry to see you, gentlemen, drinking brandy-pawnee,« says he. »It plays the deuce with our young men in India.«) He joined in all the choruses with an exceedingly sweet voice. He laughed at the Derby Ram so that it did you good to hear him; and when Hoskins sang (as he did admirably) the Old English Gentleman, and described in measured cadence the death of that venerable aristocrat, tears trickled down the warrior's cheek, while he held out his hand to Hoskins and said, »Thank you, sir, for that song; it is an honour to human nature.« On which Hoskins began to cry too.

And now young Nadab, having been cautioned, commenced one of those surprising feats of improvisation with which he used to charm audiences. He took us all off, and had rhymes pat about all the principal persons in the room: King's pins (which he wore very splendid), Martin's red waistcoat etc. The Colonel was charmed with each feat, and joined delighted with the chorus – Ritolderolritolderol ritolderolderay, (bis). And when coming to the Colonel himself, he burst out –

 

»A military gent I see – and while his face I scan,

I think you'll all agree with me – He came from Hindostan.

And by his side sits laughing free – A youth with curly head,

I think you'll all agree with me – that he was best in bed. Ritolderol,« etc.

 

The Colonel laughed immensely at this sally, and clapped his son, young Clive, on the shoulder. »Hear what he says of you, sir? Clive, best be off to bed, my boy – ho, ho! No, no. We know a trick worth two of that. ›We won't go home till morning, till daylight does appear.‹ Why should we? Why shouldn't my boy have innocent pleasure? I was allowed none when I was a young chap, and the severity was nearly the ruin of me. I must go and speak with that young man – the most astonishing thing I ever heard in my life. What's his name? Mr.