Tes. There you are out, Ned; it is vitiatâ. Ned Tes. Is it so?I am sorry for it: had the word been what I thought it was, I should have considered it as the luckiest of all my bits.

Tes. Why, if you must have an authority for this Groan, I will give you " dulcea mella premes." (Virg. Nay, to make Sensitive quite easy, here's another for him :—

Those certain moments of existence, in which, without any assignable cause, ennui so powerfully predominates over your whole system, mental and bodily, that you would joyfully submit to the cat-and-nine-tails, by way of a flapper to your dormant excitability.

Flattering yourself that you are a year or two older than some" good natured friend or other" proves you to be.

Tes. Why, those who don't know you as I do, Sensitive, would suspect that you had made a mistake here-putting older instead of younger. But, come-its my turn, now; you are getting too much a head of me.

27. (T.)

After bathing-the dull, drowsy, rumbling, which continues all day long in your ears, and which all your tweaking, nuzzling, and rum. maging at them serves only to increase.

Sen. Very sad, Sir; you might here. cry, with poor Clarence,

: 1.

"What dreadful noise of waters in my ears!" Rich. III.

but then, his misery was but a dream;would that ours were not realities!

28. (S.)

After having, with great difficulty, persuaded a friend to sit for his, or her, picture, and then feasting yourself with the thoughts of possessing a fac simile, which the great fame of the artist

encouraged you to expect, receiving after long delays, what proves to be the face of any one but your friend.

Tes. Poor Sensitive! That must have been quite a scene!

"animum picturâ pascit inani, Multa gemens, largoque humectat flumine vultum." Virg.

Sen. Yes-but there is another stroke of desperation, the same in kind, but still worse in degree:-I hope it will be new to you, though it occurred this very morning to myself:

29. (S.)

After having been promised what you expect will be the painted portrait of a friend-receiving instead of it, nothing more substantial than a black shade, en profile :

On its entrance, Sir, I involuntarily exclaimed,

hence, horrible Shadow!

Unreal mockery, hence!

Mach.

Tes. Yes, yes I have gone through it more than once; though, perhaps, I don't take it quite so patiently as you may : for my part, whenever they send me their silouettes, or what do they call them, I chuck them out of the window, as soon as they come into the room;

is

"

"Come like shadows?-so depart!" Macb. my address to the little blackamoors.

30. (T.)

Breaking a phial of asa fœtida in your pocket; --and then mangling, as well as poisoning your fingers, in taking out the bits of broken glass.

31. (S.)

Hiding your eyes with your hand, for a whole evening together, in vain attempts to recover a tune, or a name ;-said tune, &c. repeatedly flitting before you, but so rapidly as never to be

fairly caught.

32. (S.)

Suddenly finding out that your watch has lost two or three hours, while you have been revelling in a fool's paradise of leisure, and unconsciously

outstaying your appointments, and disordering all the arrangements of the day, with nothing to have prevented you from adhering to them with perfect ease.

33. (S.)

In handing a glass of wine, or some brittle article of great beauty and value, to another person, suddenly quitting your hold of it, under a

false idea that he has taken his.-"Guess, ah guess the rest!"

35. (T.)

-

In pumping-the dry, wheezing, hiss - and dead, thumping, drop, of the handle, as you keep working it, with vain hopes of water.

36 (S) 2

Shewing the colleges, public-buildings, and other remarkables of the University, for the 500th time, to a party, who discover no signs of life, during the whole perambulation.

37. (T.)

Buying a pocket-handkerchief on an emer gency so pressing, that you have no time to get it hemmed; so that, before the day is half over, it is all in strings..