Anecdotes of this kind swarm in every account of Richard Sheridan—­many of them, perhaps, quite apocryphal, others exaggerated, or attributed to this noted trickster, but all tending to show how completely he was master of this high art.  His ways of eluding creditors used to delight me, I remember, when an Oxford boy, and they are only paralleled by Oxford stories.  One of these may not be generally known, and was worthy of Sheridan.  Every Oxonian knows Hall, the boat-builder at Folly Bridge.  Mrs. Hall was, in my time, proprietress of those dangerous skiffs and nutshell canoes which we young harebrains delighted to launch on the Isis.  Some youthful Sheridanian had a long account with this elderly and bashful personage, who had applied in vain for her money, till, coming one day to his rooms, she announced her intention not to leave till the money was paid.  ’Very well, Mrs. Hall, then you must sit down and make yourself comfortable while I dress, for I am going out directly.’  Mrs. H. sat down composedly, and with equal composure the youth took off his coat.  Mrs. H. was not abashed, but in another moment the debtor removed his waistcoat also.  Mrs. H. was still immoveable.  Sundry other articles of dress followed, and the good lady began to be nervous.  ’Now, Mrs. Hall, you can stay if you like, but I assure you that I am going to change all my dress.’  Suiting the action to the word, he began to remove his lower garments, when Mrs. Hall, shocked and furious, rushed from the room.

This reminds us of Sheridan’s treatment of a female creditor.  He had for some years hired his carriage-horses from Edbrooke in Clarges Street, and his bill was a heavy one.  Mrs. Edbrooke wanted a new bonnet, and blew up her mate for not insisting on payment.  The curtain lecture was followed next day by a refusal to allow Mr. Sheridan to have the horses till the account was settled.  Mr. Sheridan sent the politest possible message in reply, begging that Mrs. Edbrooke would allow his coachman to drive her in his own carriage to his door, and promising that the matter should be satisfactorily arranged.  The good woman was delighted, dressed in her best, and, bill in hand, entered the M.P.’s chariot.  Sheridan meanwhile had given orders to his servants.  Mrs. Edbrooke was shown up into the back drawing-room, where a slight luncheon, of which she was begged to partake, was laid out; and she was assured that her debtor would not keep her waiting long, though for the moment engaged.  The horse-dealer’s wife sat down and discussed a wing of chicken and glass of wine, and in the meantime her victimizer had been watching his opportunity, slipped down stairs, jumped into the vehicle, and drove off.  Mrs. Edbrooke finished her lunch and waited in vain; ten minutes, twenty, thirty, passed, and then she rang the bell:  ’Very sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Sheridan went out on important business half an hour ago.’  ’And the carriage?’—­’Oh, ma’am, Mr. Sheridan never walks.’