"Can't say, perhaps two hours," returned the money-changer.

"Two hours!" exclaimed the horse-dealer, "vy, you humbug, vhat do you mean by that 'ere hinsolence?-Oh! I see as how it's all a manoover, a reg'lar do ;-but I von't stand no nonsense from ne'er a screen malefactor in the 'nited kingdoms o' France or Hireland, nor of Hingland to boot. I only axes for my own, and my own I 'll 'ave, or I'll know for why."

"You are very troublesome, Sir," observed the Banker; "and, if you cannot hold your peace, I must send for a constable."

"Vill you, by G-d? I should like to see that 'ere. I axes you civilly afore these yere suspectible vitnesses, and in the name o' his majesty King George and the Parliament, vither you intends immedately, and vithout no more ado, to gr' me Lunnun notes for these here rags o' your's,-every von on 'em? If ye don't, I'll sarve ye wi' a sassarara,* and have ye arrangedt and parsecuted according to law, that's all."

The friends of the house who stood by, although nearly convulsed with laughter, now interfered: they had all along endeavoured to mollify him by whispers, and tried to smooth down his irascibility; but at length they saw it was high time to stop the current of his dangerous abuse, by offering to exchange the paper.

"Come, come, Mr. Buckhorse," said one of these gentlemen, "there is no use in being so furious; as you seem to be in a hurry, and as the bankers are too busy to attend to you, I don't mind accommodating you with a hundred pounds myself."

*Writ of Certiorari.

VOL. I.

M

† Arraigned.

"And I'll do a couple of hundreds more," said another.

"I don't mind changing three hundred," said a third.

"Vill you, by G-d?" exclaimed Buckhorse. "Upon my soul, gen'lemen, I'm wery much obliged to you:"—and having effected the exchange, he added, "I vish ye joy on 'em, gen'lemen, and vould advise ye to get rid of 'em as soon as ye can; for by G-d, I vouldn't give a farden a bushel for 'em!"

This last hit was so intolerable, that to prevent farther annoyance, the head partner neglected every other person to attend to Buckhorse; to whom, with a most angry frown, he counted out the requisite number of Bank of England notes. The latter pocketed the cash with the greatest sang-froid; and as he was elbowing his way out, exclaimed to the crowd, "That's your sort, my hearties; change your flimsies as fast as you can: they have lots of Englanders,-I 've got mine, howsomever: so the Devil take the hindmost."

But, alas! poor Buckhorse did not bear off the palm so triumphantly as he expected. In passing through the crowd, to whom he thus foolishly gave information respecting his treasure, his pocket was picked of his favourite Englanders; which he was never able to recover: for, being ignorant of the numbers, his blundering vanity and overbearing insolence, of course, prevented the irritated bankers from affording him the least assistance in tracing them.

The above-mentioned loss preyed heavily on the mind of Buckhorse for a long time; but at the period of its occurrence, his health, which was before but in

different, became so sensibly affected, that he took to his bed, and after a few days made up his mind that he should die. Accordingly, he sent for the clergyman of his parish, (although he had never been in the habit of going to church, nor of attending to religious duties of any sort,) and wished to have the sacrament administered to him; thinking that this would not only be a panacea for all his sins, but likewise a passport into Heaven!

After a few preliminary compliments, the clergyman said to him, "Well, Mr. Buckhorse, I hope you have set your house in order previous to receiving the sacrament of the Lord's Supper."

"Vhy, that is true, parson," replied the sick man ; "the 'ouse is no great shakes, and as to horder, every thing is topsy-turvy since I took to my bed; b-st both missus and maid, say I; but if I only get up and about, see how I'll sarve 'em out!" Then, elevating his voice, he cried aloud to the servant, "Nanny, you d-d dirty b-h! call your missus down, and clear the 'ouse up, both o' I'll be d-d if the wery par

ye;

son doesn't see that it's hout of order.

The clergyman, seeing that the invalid was not in a fit state for receiving the holy sacrament, explained to him the nature of the rite, and having conjured him to give up profane swearing, &c., and to think of a future state, bade him good morning, saying he would call again when his mind was more composed.

Buckhorse replied, "Wery well, good bye, my dear Sir, God Almighty bless you!-next time you come I shall have the whole 'ouse scoured down from top to bottom!"

XIV.

ROGER WILBRAHAM AND SIR PHILIP

FRANCIS.

THE late Sir Philip Francis, who, during many years of his life, was a member of the House of Commons, spoke on all questions of importance on the side of Opposition. He was the convivial companion of Fox, and, during the short administration of that statesman, was made a Knight of the Bath.

Roger Wilbraham, who was also on the same side, came up one evening to the whist table, at Brookes's, where Sir Philip, who for the first time wore the ribbon of the order, was seriously engaged in the middle of a rubber; and thus accosted him.

Laying hold of the ribbon, and examining it for some time before he spoke, he said: "So this is the way they have rewarded you at last; they have given you a little bit of red ribbon for your services, Sir Philip, have they? A pretty bit of red ribbon to hang about your neck;-and that satisfies you, does it? Now I wonder what I shall have.-What do you think they will give me, Sir Philip ?”

The newly-made Knight, who had twenty-five guineas depending on the rubber, and who was not very well pleased at the interruption, suddenly turned round, and casting on him a ferocious look, exclaimed, "A halter, and be d-d to you!"

XV.

FIGHTING FITZGERALD. (CONTINUED.)

As some farther account of this extraordinary and wayward individual may not be unacceptable to the reader, he is here presented with a short sketch of the principal actions of his life.

George Robert Fitzgerald was the eldest son of Mr. Fitzgerald, of Rockfield, near Castlebar, in Ireland, by Lady Mary Hervey, sister to the Earl of Bristol. He was educated at Eton, and at Trinity College, Dublin; and his knowledge of the classics, and other branches of polite literature, was pretty much on a par with that of other young gentlemen of his age and period. That his talents were above contempt, may be seen by a poem entitled "The Riddle," inscribed by him to Lord Earlsfort, afterwards Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, in Ireland.

Whilst at Trinity College, where duelling was so common that an affair of honour of some sort generally preceded Morning Prayers, it will be supposed that a man of Fitzgerald's disposition could not long avoid having a finger in the pie ;-this supposition, however, would not be strictly correct; for, although he engaged in various quarrels with his fellow-stu

This account should have been printed before, see page 33, but was mislaid until the intermediate sheets were worked off. ED.