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all the holies he met with, and rather than return home empty-handed, he would load himself with the dung of the cattle on the common. The hones he first picked himself, and then broke in pieces for his dog Bob. His conduct to this favourite, whom he always called, "Bob my child," affords a striking instance of human inconsistency; for while he himself would swill the pot-liquor of Lady Tempest's kitchen, to save the expence of a penny. Bob was allowed a pint of milk daily. His affection for this domestic was, nevertheless, overpowered by a consideration which, with him, carried irresistible weight. Complaints were made to him that Bob had worried some sheep: on this he took the dog to a blacksmith's shop, where he ordered all his teeth to he broken off short, to prevent a repetition of the mischief, for which he might probably have been compelled to make compensation.
Snuff was a luxury in which it is natural to suppose that he never indulged; yet he always begged a pinch from those who did.—In this manner he used in about a month to fill a snuff-box, which he always carried in his pocket. He then exchanged its contents at a chandler's shop for a farthing candle, which was made to last till he had again filled his box, as he never suffered any light in his house, except when he was going to bed. A
