own--six thousand pound, or so--in the stox. He was jest of age,
an orfin who had lost his father and mother; and having
distinkwished hisself at Collitch, where he gained seffral prices,
was come to town to push his fortn, and study the barryster's
bisness.

Not bein of a very high fammly hisself--indeed, I've heard say his
father was a chismonger, or somethink of that lo sort--Dawkins was
glad to find his old Oxford frend, Mr. Blewitt, yonger son to rich
Squire Blewitt, of Listershire, and to take rooms so near him.

Now, tho' there was a considdrable intimacy between me and Mr.
Blewitt's gentleman, there was scarcely any betwixt our masters,--
mine being too much of the aristoxy to associate with one of Mr.
Blewitt's sort. Blewitt was what they call a bettin man; he went
reglar to Tattlesall's, kep a pony, wore a white hat, a blue
berd's-eye handkercher, and a cut-away coat. In his manners he was
the very contrary of my master, who was a slim, ellygant man as
ever I see--he had very white hands, rayther a sallow face, with
sharp dark ise, and small wiskus neatly trimmed and as black as
Warren's jet--he spoke very low and soft--he seemed to be watchin
the person with whom he was in convysation, and always flatterd
everybody. As for Blewitt, he was quite of another sort. He was
always swearin, singing, and slappin people on the back, as hearty
as posbill. He seemed a merry, careless, honest cretur, whom one
would trust with life and soul. So thought Dawkins, at least; who,
though a quiet young man, fond of his boox, novvles, Byron's poems,
foot-playing, and such like scientafic amusemints, grew hand in
glove with honest Dick Blewitt, and soon after with my master, the
Honrabble Halgernon. Poor Daw! he thought he was makin good