CORRESPONDENCETO MASTER HUMPHREY
‘SIR,—Before you proceed any further in your account of your friends andwhat you say and do when you meet together, excuse me if I proffer myclaim to be elected to one of the vacant chairs in that old room ofyours. Don’t reject me without full consideration; for if you do, youwill be sorry for it afterwards—you will, upon my life.
‘I enclose my card, sir, in this letter. I never was ashamed of my name,and I never shall be. I am considered a devilish gentlemanly fellow, andI act up to the character. If you want a reference, ask any of the menat our club. Ask any fellow who goes there to write his letters, whatsort of conversation mine is. Ask him if he thinks I have the sort ofvoice that will suit your deaf friend and make him hear, if he can hearanything at all. Ask the servants what they think of me. There’s not arascal among ’em, sir, but will tremble to hear my name. That remindsme—don’t you say too much about that housekeeper of yours; it’s a lowsubject, damned low.
‘I tell you what, sir. If you vote me into one of those empty chairs,you’ll have among you a man with a fund of gentlemanly informationthat’ll rather astonish you. I can let you into a few anecdotes aboutsome fine women of title, that are quite high life, sir—the tiptop sortof thing. I know the name of every man who has been out on an affair ofhonour within the last five-and-twenty years; I know the privateparticulars of every cross and squabble that has taken place upon theturf, at the gaming-table, or elsewhere, during the whole of that time.I have been called the gentlemanly chronicle. You may consider yourselfa lucky dog; upon my soul, you may congratulate yourself, though I sayso.
‘It’s an uncommon good notion that of yours, not letting anybody knowwhere you live. I have tried it, but there has always been an anxietyrespecting me, which has found me out. Your deaf friend is a cunningfellow to keep his name so close. I have tried that too, but have alwaysfailed. I shall be proud to make his acquaintance—tell him so, with mycompliments.
‘You must have been a queer fellow when you were a child, confoundedqueer. It’s odd, all that about the picture in your first paper—prosy,but told in a devilish gentlemanly sort of way. In places like that Icould come in with great effect with a touch of life—don’t you feel that?
[Picture: A Charming Fellow]
‘I am anxiously waiting for your next paper to know whether your friendslive upon the premises, and at your expense, which I take it for grantedis the case. If I am right in this impression, I know a charming fellow(an excellent companion and most delightful company) who will be proud tojoin you. Some years ago he seconded a great many prize-fighters, andonce fought an amateur match himself; since then he has driven severalmails, broken at different periods all the lamps on the right-hand sideof Oxford-street, and six times carried away every bell-handle inBloomsbury-square, besides turning off the gas in various thoroughfares.In point of gentlemanliness he is unrivalled, and I should say that nextto myself he is of all men the best suited to your purpose.
‘Expecting your reply, ‘I am, ‘&c. &c.’
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Master Humphrey informs this gentleman that his application, both as itconcerns himself and his friend, is rejected.