one is touched by kindness. A man of the world may, of course, be
grateful or not as he chooses.

"I have heard of your kindness, sir," says he, "to my boy. And whoever is
kind to him is kind to me. Will you allow me to sit down by you? and may
I beg you to try my cheroots?" We were friends in a minute--young Newcome
snuggling by my side, his father opposite, to whom, after a minute or two
of conversation, I presented my three college friends.

"You have come here, gentlemen, to see the wits," says the Colonel. "Are
there any celebrated persons in the room? I have been five-and-thirty
years from home, and want to see all that is to be seen."

King of Corpus (who was an incorrigible wag) was on the point of pulling
some dreadful long-bow, and pointing out a halfdozen of people in the
room, as R. and H. and L., etc., the most celebrated wits of that day;
but I cut King's shins under the table, and got the fellow to hold his
tongue.

"Maxima debetur pueris," says Jones (a fellow of very kind feeling, who
has gone into the Church since), and, writing on his card to Hoskins,
hinted to him that a boy was in the room, and a gentleman, who was quite
a greenhorn: hence that the songs had better be carefully selected.

And so they were. A ladies' school might have come in, and, but for the
smell of the cigars and brandy-and-water, have taken no harm by what
happened. Why should it not always be so? If there are any "Caves of
Harmony" now, I warrant Messieurs the landlords, their interests would be
better consulted by keeping their singers within bounds. The very
greatest scamps like pretty songs, and are melted by them; so are honest