nor yet a commercial one, but something betwixt and between. The
coffee-room is very small, consequently all the frequenters are drawn
together, and if a conversation is started a man must be deuced
unsociable that does not join in the cry.

As three or four were sitting round the fire chatting over their tipple,
and Jorrocks was telling some of his best bouncers, the door opened
and a waiter bowed a fresh animal into the cage, who, after eyeing the
party, took off his hat and forthwith proceeded to pull off divers
neckcloths, cloaks, great-coats, muffitees, until he reduced himself to
about half the size he was on entering. He was a little square-built
old man, with white hair and plenty of it, a long stupid red face with
little pig eyes, a very long awkward body, and very short legs. He
was dressed in a blue coat, buff waistcoat, a sort of baggy grey or
thunder-and-lightning trousers, over which he had buttoned a pair of
long black gaiters. Having "peeled," he rubbed his hands and blew upon
them, as much as to say, "Now, gentlemen, won't you let me have a smell
of the fire?" and, accordingly, by a sort of military revolution, they
made a place for him right in the centre.

"Coldish night I reckon, sir," said Jorrocks, looking him over.

"Very cold indeed, very cold indeed," answered he, rubbing his elbows
against his ribs, and stamping with his feet. "I've just got off the top
of the Liverpool coach, and, I can assure you, it's very cold riding
outside a coach all day long--however, I always say that it's better
than being inside, though, indeed, it's very little that I trouble
coaches at all in the course of the year--generally travel in my own
carriage, only my family have it with them in Bristol now, where
I'm going to join them; but I'm well used to the elements, hunting,