“You know, my dear Harry,” he said to his friend, “there is no use in striving to conceal the honest vulgarity of Jemmy the gentleman from you who know it already.  I may say ditto to madam, who is unquestionably the most vulgar of the two—­for, and I am sorry to say it, in addition to a superabundant stock of vulgarity, she has still a larger assortment of the prides; for instance, pride of wealth, of the purse, pride of—­I was going to add, birth—­ha! ha! ha!—­of person, ay, of beauty, if you please—­of her large possessions—­but that comes under the purse again—­and lastly—­but that is the only well-founded principle among them—­of her accomplished son, Hycy.  This, now, being all within your cognizance already, my dear Hal, you take a pig’s cheek and a fowl with me to-day.  There will be nobody but ourselves, for when I see company at home I neither admit the gentleman nor the lady to table.  Damn it, you know the thing would be impossible.  If you wish it, however, we shall probably call in the gentleman after dinner to have a quiz with him; it may relieve us.  I can promise you a glass of wine, too, and that’s another reason why we should keep him aloof until the punch comes.  The wine’s always a sub silencio affair, and, may heaven pity me, I get growling enough from old Bruin on other subjects.”

“Anything you wish, Hycy, I am your man; but somehow I don’t relish the idea of the quiz you speak of.  ‘Children, obey your parents,’ says Holy Scripture; and I’d as soon not help a young fellow to laugh at his father.”

“A devilish good subject he is, though—­but you must know that I can draw just distinctions, Hal.  For instance, I respect his honesty—­”

“And copy it, eh?”

“Certainly—­I respect his integrity, too—­in fact, I appreciate all his good qualities, and only laugh at his vulgarity and foibles.”

“You intend to marry, Hycy?”

“Or, in other words, to call you brother some of these days.”

“And to have sons and daughters?”

“Please the fates.”

“That will do,” replied Clinton, dryly.

“Ho! ho!” said Hycy, “I see.  Here’s a mentor with a vengeance—­a fellow with a budget of morals cut and dry for immediate use—­but hang all morality, say I; like some of my friends that talk on the subject, I have an idiosyncrasy of constitution against it, but an abundant temperament for pleasure.”

“That’s a good definition,” said Clinton; “a master-touch, a very correct likeness, indeed.  I would at once know you from it, and so would most of your friends.”

“This day is Friday,” said Hycy, “more growling.”

“Why so?”

“Why, when I eat meat on a Friday, the pepper and sauce cost me nothing.  The ‘gentlemen’ lays on hard, but the lady extenuates, ’in regard to it’s bein’ jinteel.’”

“Well, but you have certainly no scruple yourself on the subject?”

“Yes, I have, sir, a very strong one—­in favor of the meat—­ha! ha! ha!”