The Amateur Gentleman

"Sir," said he, hat gracefully flourished in the air, "your very

humble obedient servant to command."

"A humble obedient fiddlestick, sir!" retorted the new comer.

"Pooh, sir!--I say dammit!--are ye mad, sir, to go bowing and

scraping to a gate-post, as though it were an Admiral of the Fleet

or Nelson himself--are ye mad or only drunk, sir? I say, what d' ye

mean?"

Here Barnabas put on his hat and opened the book.

"Plainly, sir," he answered, "being overcome with a sudden desire to

bow to something or other, I bowed to that gate-post in want of a

worthier object; but now, seeing you arrive so very opportunely, I'

11 take the liberty of trying another. Oblige me by observing if my

expression is sufficiently engaging," and with the words Barnabas

bowed as elaborately as before.

"Sink me!" exclaimed the one-armed individual, rounder of eye than

ever, "the fellow's mad--stark, staring mad."

"No, indeed, sir," smiled Barnabas, reassuringly, "but the book

here--which I am given to understand is wholly infallible--says that

to bow is the most important item of a gentlemanly equipment, and in

the World of Fashion--"

"In the World of Fashion, sir, there are no gentlemen left," his

hearer broke in.

"How, sir--?"

"I say no, sir, no one. I say, damme, sir--"

"But, sir--"

"I say there are no gentlemen in the fashionable world--they are all

blackguardly Bucks, cursed Corinthians, and mincing Macaronies

nowadays, sir. Fashionable world--bah, sir!"

"But, sir, is not the Prince himself--"

"The Prince, sir!" Here the one-armed gentleman clapped on his hat

and snorted, "The Prince is a--prince, sir; he's also an authority

on sauce and shoe-buckles. Let us talk of something more

interesting--yourself, for instance."

Barnabas bowed.

"Sir," said he, "my name is Barnabas--Barnabas Beverley."

"Hum!" said the other, thoughtfully, "I remember a Beverley--a

lieutenant under Hardy in the 'Agamemnon'--though, to be sure, he

spelt his name with an 'l-e-y.'"

"So do I, sir," said Barnabas.

"Hum!"

"Secondly, I am on my way to London."

"London! Egad! here's another of 'em! London, of course--well?"

"Where I hope to cut some figure in the--er--World of Fashion."

"Fashion--Gog and Magog!--why not try drowning. 'T would be simpler

and better for you in the long run. London! Fashion! in that hat,

that coat, those--"

"Sir," said Barnabas, flushing, "I have already--"

"Fashion, eh? Why, then, you must cramp that chest into an abortion,

all collar, tail, and buttons, and much too tight to breathe in; you

must struggle into breeches tight enough to burst, and cram your

feet into bepolished torments--"

"But, sir," Barnabas ventured again, "surely the Prince himself is

accountable for the prevailing fashion, and as you must know, he is

said to be the First Gentleman in Europe and--"

"Fiddle-de-dee and the devil, sir!--who says he is? A set of

crawling sycophants, sir--a gang of young reprobates and bullies.

First Gentleman in--I say pish, sir! I say bah! Don't I tell you

that gentlemen went out o' fashion when Bucks came in? I say there

isn't a gentleman left in England except perhaps one or two. This is

the age of your swaggering, prize-fighting Corinthians. London

swarms with 'em, Brighton's rank with 'em, yet they pervade even

these solitudes, damme! I saw one of 'em only half an hour ago,

limping out of a wood yonder. Ah! a polished, smiling rascal--a

dangerous rogue! One of your sleepy libertines--one of your lucky

gamblers--one of your conscienceless young reprobates equally ready

to win your money, ruin your sister, or shoot you dead as the case

may be, and all in the approved way of gallantry, sir; and, being all

this, and consequently high in royal favor, he is become a very lion

in the World of Fashion. Would you succeed, young sir, you must

model yourself upon him as nearly as may be."