MR. VERDANT GREEN CALLS ON A GENTLEMAN WHO "IS LICENSED
TO SELL."

MR. VERDANT GREEN found himself in a room that had a pleasant
look-out over the gardens of Brazenface, from which a noble chestnut
tree brought its pyramids of bloom close up to the very windows. The
walls of the room were decorated with engravings in gilt frames,
their variety of subject denoting the catholic taste of their
proprietor. "The start for the Derby," and other coloured hunting
prints, shewed his taste for the field and horseflesh; Landseer's
"Distinguished Member of the Humane Society," "Dignity and
Impudence," and others, displayed his fondness for dog-flesh; while
Byron beauties, "Amy Robsart," and some extremely ~au naturel~ pets
of the ballet, proclaimed his passion for the fair sex in general.
Over the fire-place was a mirror (for Mr. Charles Larkyns was not
averse to the reflection of his good-looking features, and was rather
glad than otherwise of "an excuse for the glass,") its frame stuck
full of tradesmen's cards and (unpaid) bills, invites, "bits of
pasteboard" pencilled with a mystic "wine," and other odds and ends:
- no private letters though! Mr. Larkyns was too wary to leave his
"family secrets" for the delectation of his scout. Over the mirror
was displayed a fox's mask, gazing vacantly from between two brushes;
leaving the spectator to imagine that Mr. Charles Larkyns was a
second Nimrod, and had in some way or other been intimately concerned
in the capture of these trophies of the chase. This supposition of
the imaginative spectator would be strengthened by the appearance of
a list of hunting appointments (of the past season) pinned up over a
list of lectures, and not quite in character with the tabular views
of prophecies, kings of Israel and Judah, and the Thirty-nine
Articles, which did duty elsewhere on the walls, where they were