to pass off for more than he is, Kilne, and impose upon people,” he says, “he’s contemptible, Kilne! contemptible!” So that, you know, set me thinking about “Bath” and the “Marquis,” and I couldn’t help smiling to myself, and just let slip a question whether he had enlightened them a bit.  “Kilne,” said he, “you’re an honest man, and a neighbour, and I’ll tell you what happened.  The Squire,” he says, “likes my company, and I like his table.  Now the Squire ’d never do a dirty action, but the Squire’s nephew, Mr. George Uplift, he can’t forget that I earn my money, and once or twice I have had to correct him.”  And I’ll wager Mel did it, too!  Well, he goes on:  “There was Admiral Sir Jackson Racial and his lady, at dinner, Squire Falco of Bursted, Lady Barrington, Admiral Combleman—­our admiral, that was; ’Mr. This and That’, I forget their names—­and other ladies and gentlemen whose acquaintance I was not honoured with.”  You know his way of talking.  “And there was a goose on the table,” he says; and, looking stern at me, “Don’t laugh yet!” says he, like thunder.  “Well, he goes on:  Mr. George caught my eye across the table, and said, so as not to be heard by his uncle, ‘If that bird was rampant, you would see your own arms, Marquis.’” And Mel replied, quietly for him to hear, ’And as that bird is couchant, Mr. George, you had better look to your sauce.’  Couchant means squatting, you know.  That’s heraldry!  Well, that wasn’t bad sparring of Mel’s.  But, bless you! he was never taken aback, and the gentlefolks was glad enough to get him to sit down amongst ’em.  So, says Mr. George, ’I know you’re a fire-eater, Marquis,’ and his dander was up, for he began marquising Mel, and doing the mock polite at such a rate, that, by-and-by, one of the ladies who didn’t know Mel called him ‘my lord’ and ‘his lordship.’  “And,” says Mel, “I merely bowed to her, and took no notice.”  So that passed off:  and there sits Mel telling his anecdotes, as grand as a king.  And, by and-by, young Mr. George, who hadn’t forgiven Mel, and had been pulling at the bottle pretty well, he sings out, “It ’s Michaelmas! the death of the goose! and I should like to drink the Marquis’s health!” and he drank it solemn.  But, as far as I can make out, the women part of the company was a little in the dark.  So Mel waited till there was a sort of a pause, and then speaks rather loud to the Admiral, “By the way, Sir Jackson, may I ask you, has the title of Marquis anything to do with tailoring?” Now Mel was a great favourite with the Admiral, and with his lady, too, they say—­and the Admiral played into his hands, you see, and, says he, “I ’m not aware that it has, Mr. Harrington.”  And he begged for to know why he asked the question—­called him, “Mister,” you understand.  So Mel said, and I can see him now, right out from his chest he spoke, with his head up “When I was a younger man, I had the good taste to be fond of good society, and the bad taste to wish to appear different