'A king can make a belted knight,
A marquess, duke, and a' that;
An honest man's abune his might--
Gude faith, he canna fa' that.'

Why need I care about telling these ladies where I live?"

"Sir," says I, "have the goodness to send the parcel, when done, to Mr.
Titmarsh, No. 3 Bell Lane, Salisbury Square, near St. Bride's Church,
Fleet Street. Ring, if you please, the two-pair bell."

"_What_, sir?" said Mr. Polonius.

"_Hwat_!" shrieked the old lady. "Mr. Hwat? Mais, ma chere, c'est
impayable. Come along--here's the carr'age! Give me your arm, Mr. Hwat,
and get inside, and tell me all about your thirteen aunts."

She seized on my elbow and hobbled through the shop as fast as possible;
the young ladies following her, laughing.

"Now, jump in, do you hear?" said she, poking her sharp nose out of the
window.

"I can't, ma'am," says I; "I have a friend."

"Pooh, pooh! send 'um to the juice, and jump in!" And before almost I
could say a word, a great powdered fellow in yellow-plush breeches pushed
me up the steps and banged the door to.

I looked just for one minute as the barouche drove away at Hoskins, and