The Count’s fashioner sent in, the other day, his bill, which was a pretty considerable time overdue, accompanied by the following polite note:—­

“Sir,—­Your bill having been for a very long time standing, I beg that it may be settled forthwith.

“Yours,
“B——.”

To which Snip received the following reply:—­

“Sir,—­I am very sorry that your bill should have been kept standing so long.  Pray request it to sit down.

“Yours,
“**”

* * * * *

NARRATIVE OF AN AWFUL CASE OF EXTREME DISTRESS.

It was in the year 1808, that myself and seven others resolved upon taking chambers in Staples’ Inn.  Our avowed object was to study, but we had in reality assembled together for the purposes of convivial enjoyment, and what were then designated “sprees.”  Our stock consisted of four hundred and twelve pounds, which we had drawn from our parents and guardians under the various pretences of paying fees and procuring books for the advancement of our knowledge in the sublime mysteries of that black art called Law.  In addition to our pecuniary resources, we had also a fair assortment of wearing-apparel, and it was well for us that parental anxiety had provided most of us with a change of garments suitable to the various seasons.  For a long time everything went on riotously and prosperously.  We visited the Theatres, the Coal-hole, the Cider-cellars, and the Saloon, and became such ardent admirers of the “Waterford system of passing a night and morning,” that scarcely a day came without a draft upon the treasury for that legal imposition upon the liberty of the subject—­the five-shilling fine; besides the discharge of promissory notes as compensation for trifling damages done to the heads and property of various individuals.

About a month after the formation of our association we were all suffering severely from thirsty head-aches, produced, I am convinced, by the rapid consumption of thirteen bowls of whiskey-punch on the preceding night.  The rain was falling in perpendicular torrents, and the whole aspect of out-of-door nature was gloomy and sloppy, when we were alarmed by the exclamation of Joseph Jones (a relation of the Welsh Joneses), who officiated as our treasurer, and upon inquiring the cause, were horror-stricken to find that we had arrived at our last ten-pound note, and that the landlord had sent an imperative message, requiring the immediate settlement of our back-rent.  It is impossible to paint the consternation depicted on every countenance, already sufficiently disordered by previous suffering and biliary disarrangement.

I was the first to speak; for being the son of a shabby-genteel father, I had witnessed in my infancy many of those schemes to raise the needful, to which ambitious men with limited incomes are so frequently driven.  I therefore bid them be of good heart, for that any pawnbroker in the neighbourhood would readily advance money upon the superfluous wardrobe which we possessed.  This remark was received with loud cheers, which, I have no doubt, would have been much more vehement but from the fatal effects of the whiskey-punch.