by a very broad-brimmed beaver; - such was the dress of the universally
known Michael Angelo Taylor. If you met him in society, or at the clubs,
he was never known to salute you but with the invariable phrase, "What
news have you?" Upon one occasion, riding through St. James's Park,
he met the great Minister, Mr. Pitt, coming from Wimbledon, where he
resided. He asked Mr. Pitt the usual question, upon which the Premier
replied, "I have not yet seen the morning papers."

"Oh, that won't do, Mr. Pitt. I am Sure that you know something, and
will not tell me." Mr. Pitt good-humouredly replied: "Well, then, I
am going to a Cabinet Council, and I will consult my colleagues whether
I can divulge State secrets to you or not." Upon another occasion, on
entering Boodle's, of which he was a member, he observed the celebrated
Lord Westmoreland at table, where the noble lord was doing justice to
a roast fowl. Taylor, of course, asked him the news of the day, and
Lord Westmoreland coolly told the little newsmonger to go into the other
room and leave him to finish his dinner, promising to join him after
he had done. The noble Lord kept his word, and the first thing he heard
from Mr. Taylor was, "Well, my lord, what news? what had you for dinner?"

His lordship replied, "A Welsh leg of mutton." "What then - what then?"
"Don't you think a leg of mutton enough for any man?" "Yes, my lord,
but you did not eat it all." "Yes, Taylor, I did." "Well, I think you
have placed the leg of mutton in some mysterious place, for I see no
trace of it in your lean person."

Lord Westmoreland was remarkable for an appetite which made nothing
of a respectable joint, or a couple of fowls.
I know not whether Mr. Poole, the author of Paul Pry, had Michael Angelo
in his head when he wrote that well-known comedy; but certainly he might