_Jorrocks._ I don't know what you calls a gentleman. I'll lay you a hat,
a guinea one, either white or black, whichever you like, but none o'
your dog hairs or gossamers, mind--that he's a man of dibs, and doesn't
follow no trade or calling, and if that isn't a gentleman, I don't know
wot is. What say you, Mr. York?

"Suppose we put it thus--You bet this gentleman a hat that he's a
Meltonian, which will comprise all the rest."

_Jorrocks._ Werry well put. Do you take me, sir? A guinea hat against a
guinea hat.

"I do," said the youth.

_Jorrocks._ Then DONE--now ring the bell for the waiter--I'll pump him.

_Enter waiter._

_Jorrocks._ Snuff them candles, if you please, and bring me another
bottom o' brandy-cold, without--and, waiter! here, pray who is that
gentleman that came in by the Liverpool coach to-night? The little
gentleman in long black gaiters who sat in this chair, you know, and had
some brandy-and-water.

_Waiter._ I know who you mean, sir, quite well, the gentleman who's gone
to bed. Let me see, what's his name? He keeps that large Hotel in----
Street, Liverpool--what's the--Here an immense burst of laughter drowned
the remainder of the sentence.

Jorrocks rose in a rage. "No! you double-distilled blockhead," said he,