The Amateur Gentleman

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon that Barnabas knocked at

the door of the Viscount's chambers in Half-moon Street and was duly

admitted by a dignified, albeit somewhat mournful gentleman in blue

and silver, who, after a moment of sighing hesitancy, ushered him

into a small reception room where sat a bullet-headed man with one

eye and a remarkably bristly chin, a sinister looking person who

stared very hard with his one eye, and sucked very hard, with much

apparent relish and gusto, at the knob of the stick he carried. At

sight of this man the mournful gentleman averted his head, and

vented a sound which, despite his impressive dignity, greatly

resembled a sniff, and, bowing to Barnabas, betook himself upstairs

to announce the visitor. Hereupon the one-eyed man having surveyed

Barnabas from head to foot with his solitary orb, drew the knob of

his stick from his mouth, dried it upon his sleeve, looked at it,

gave it a final rub, and spoke.

"Sir," said he in a jovial voice that belied his sinister aspect,

"did you 'ear that rainbow sniff?"

"Rainbow?" said Barnabas.

"Well,--wallet, then,--footman--the ornamental cove as jest popped

you in 'ere. Makes one 'undred and eleven of 'em!"

"One hundred and eleven what?"

"Sniffs, sir,--s-n-i-double-f-s! I've took the trouble to count 'em,

--nothing else to do. I ain't got a word out of 'im yet, an' I've

been sittin' 'ere ever since eight o'clock s'mornin'. I'm a

conwivial cock, I am,--a sociable cove, yes, sir, a s-o-s-h-able

cove as ever wore a pair o' boots. Wot I sez is,--though a bum, why

not a sociable bum, and try to make things nice and pleasant, and I

does my best, give you my word! But Lord! all my efforts is wasted

on that 'ere rainbow--nothing but sniffs!"

"Why then--who--what are you?"

"I'm Perks and Condy, wines and sperrits,--eighty-five pound,

eighteen, three--that's me, sir."

"Do you mean that you are--in possession--here?"

"Just that, sir,--ever since eight o'clock s'morning--and nothing

but sniffs--so fur." Here the bullet-headed man nodded and eyed the

knob of his stick hungrily. But at this moment the door opened, and

the dignified (though mournful) gentleman appeared, and informed

Barnabas (with a sigh) that "his Lordship begged Mr. Beverley would

walk upstairs."

Upstairs accordingly Barnabas stepped, and guided by a merry

whistling, pushed open a certain door, and so found the Viscount

busily engaged in the manufacture of a paper dart, composed of a

sheet of the Gazette, in the midst of which occupation he paused to

grip Barnabas by the hand.