The last person to whom my friend deemed it necessary to introduce me,
was a Mr. Garret Cudmore, from the Reeks of Kerry, lately matriculated to
all the honors of freshmanship in the Dublin university. This latter was
a low-sized, dark-browed man, with round shoulders, and particularly long
arms, the disposal of which seemed sadly to distress him. He possessed
the most perfect brogue I ever listened to; but it was difficult to get
him to speak, for on coming up to town some weeks before, he had been
placed by some intelligent friend at Mrs. Clanfrizzle's establishment,
with the express direction to mark and thoroughly digest as much as he
could of the habits and customs of the circle about him, which he was
rightly informed was the very focus of good breeding and haut ton; but
on no account, unless driven thereto by the pressure of sickness,
or the wants of nature, to trust himself with speech, which, in his
then uninformed state, he was assured would inevitably ruin him
among his fastidiously cultivated associates.

To the letter and the spirit of the despatch he had received, the worthy
Garret acted rigidly, and his voice was scarcely ever known to transgress
the narrow limits prescribed by his friends. In more respects that one,
was this a good resolve; for so completely had he identified himself with
college habits, things, and phrases, that whenever he conversed, he
became little short of unintelligible to the vulgar--a difficulty not
decreased by his peculiar pronunciation.

My round of presentation was just completed, when the pale figure in
light blue livery announced Counsellor Daly and dinner, for both came
fortunately together. Taking the post of honour, Miss Riley's arm, I
followed Tom, who I soon perceived ruled the whole concern, as he led
the way with another ancient vestal in black stain and bugles. The long
procession wound its snake-like length down the narrow stair, and into