I think I need not tell you my answer.

“I have been endeavouring to find some excuse,” continued he, “and, as I could not sleep, I got up, and looked for some authority for the word; and I find, madam, it is used by Dryden:  in one of his prologues, he says—­’And snatch a homely rasher from the coals.’  So You must not mind me, madam; I say strange things, but I mean no harm.”

I was almost afraid he thought I was really idiot enough to have taken him seriously; but, a few minutes after, he put his hand on my arm, and shaking his head, exclaimed, “Oh, you are a sly little rogue!—­what a Holborn beau have you drawn!”

“Ay, Miss Burney,” said Mrs, Thrale, “the Holborn beau is Dr Johnson’s favourite ; and we have all your characters by heart, from Mr. Smith up to Lady Louisa.”

“Oh, Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith is the man !” cried he, laughing violently.  “Harry Fielding never drew so good a character!—­ such a fine varnish of low politeness!—­such a struggle to appear a gentleman!  Madam, there is no character better drawn anywhere—­in any book or by any author.”

I almost poked myself under the table.  Never did I feel so delicious a confusion since I was born !  But he added a great deal more, only I cannot recollect his exact words, and I do not choose to give him mine.

About noon when I went into the library, book hunting, Mrs. Thrale came to me.  We had a very nice confab about various books, and exchanged opinions and imitations of Baretti; she told me many excellent tales of him, and I, in return, related my stories.

She gave me a long and very entertaining account of Dr. Goldsmith, who was intimately known here; but in speaking of “The Good-natured Man,” when I extolled my favourite 84

Croaker, I found that admirable character was a downright theft from Dr. Johnson.  Look at “The Rambler,” and you will find Suspirius is the man, and that not merely the idea, but the particulars of the character, are all stolen thence!(48)

While we were yet reading this “Rambler,” Dr. Johnson came in:  we told him what we were about.

“Ah, madam,” cried he, “Goldsmith was not scrupulous but he would have been a great man had he known the real value of his own internal resources.”

“Miss Burney,” said Mrs. Thrale, “is fond of his ’Vicar of Wakefield.’ and so am I;—­don’t you like it, sir?”

" No, madam, it is very faulty ; there is nothing of real life in it, and very little of nature.  It is a mere fanciful performance.”

He then seated himself upon a sofa, and calling to me, said Come,—­Evelina,—­come and sit by me.”

I obeyed; and he took me almost in his arms,—­that is, one of his arms, for one would go three times, at least, round me, -and, half laughing, half serious, he charged me to “be a good girl!”

“But, my dear,” continued he with a very droll look, “what makes you so fond of the Scotch?  I don’t like you for that;—­I hate these Scotch, and so must you.  I wish Branghton had sent the dog to jail!  That Scotch dog Macartney.”