his hat and his cane, and nodding good night with his head, walked
out of the room. The gentleman of the house called a servant to
bring the stranger's surtout. "What sort of a night is it, fellow?"
said he.--"It rains, sir," answered the servant, "with an easterly
wind."--"Easterly for ever!" He made no other reply; but shrugging
up his shoulders till they almost touched his ears, wrapped himself
tight in his great coat, and disappeared.

"This is a strange creature," said his friend to Harley. "I cannot
say," answered he, "that his remarks are of the pleasant kind: it
is curious to observe how the nature of truth may be changed by the
garb it wears; softened to the admonition of friendship, or soured
into the severity of reproof: yet this severity may be useful to
some tempers; it somewhat resembles a file: disagreeable in its
operation, but hard metals may be the brighter for it."

* * *



CHAPTER XXV--HIS SKILL IN PHYSIOGNOMY



The company at the baronet's removed to the playhouse accordingly,
and Harley took his usual route into the Park. He observed, as he
entered, a fresh-looking elderly gentleman in conversation with a
beggar, who, leaning on his crutch, was recounting the hardships he
had undergone, and explaining the wretchedness of his present
condition. This was a very interesting dialogue to Harley; he was