"no such thing--you're thinking of someone else. The gentleman hunts at
Melton Mowbray, and travels in his own carriage."

_Waiter_. I don't know nothing about Melton Mowbray, sir, but the last
time he came through here on his road to Bristol, he was in one of his
own rattle-trap yellows, and had such a load--his wife, a nurse, and
eight children inside; himself, his son, and an apple-tree on the
dickey--that the horses knocked up half-way and...

_Jorrocks_. Say no more--say no more--d----n his teeth and
toe-nails--and that's swearing--a thing I never do but on the most
outrageous occasions. Confounded humbug, I'll be upsides with him,
however. Waiter, bring the bill and no more brandy. Never was so done in
all my life--a gammonacious fellow! "There, sir, there's your one pound
one," said he, handing a sovereign and a shilling to the winner of the
hat. "Give me my tile, and let's mizzle.--Waiter, I can't wait; must
bring the bill up to my lodgings in the morning if it isn't ready.--Come
away, come away--I shall never get over this as long as ever I live.
'Live and let live,' indeed! no wonder he stuck up for the innkeepers--a
publican and a sinner as he is. Good night, gentlemen, good night."

_Exit Jorrocks_.



VII. AQUATICS: MR. JORROCKS AT MARGATE

The shady side of Cheapside had become a luxury, and footmen in red
plush breeches objects of real commiseration, when Mr. Jorrocks,
tired of the heat and "ungrateful hurry of the town," resolved upon