on sauce and shoe-buckles. Let us talk of something more
interesting--yourself, for instance."

Barnabas bowed.

"Sir," said he, "my name is Barnabas--Barnabas Beverley."

"Hum!" said the other, thoughtfully, "I remember a Beverley--a
lieutenant under Hardy in the 'Agamemnon'--though, to be sure, he
spelt his name with an 'l-e-y.'"

"So do I, sir," said Barnabas.

"Hum!"

"Secondly, I am on my way to London."

"London! Egad! here's another of 'em! London, of course--well?"

"Where I hope to cut some figure in the--er--World of Fashion."

"Fashion--Gog and Magog!--why not try drowning. 'T would be simpler
and better for you in the long run. London! Fashion! in that hat,
that coat, those--"

"Sir," said Barnabas, flushing, "I have already--"

"Fashion, eh? Why, then, you must cramp that chest into an abortion,
all collar, tail, and buttons, and much too tight to breathe in; you
must struggle into breeches tight enough to burst, and cram your