Clifford, (as henceforth we shall, despite his other aliases, denominate our hero,) who had thrown himself at full length on a bench at the far end of the room, and who seemed plunged into a sullen reverie, now looked up for a moment, and then turning round and presenting the dorsal part of his body to Long Ned, muttered, "Pish!"
"Harkye, Master Lovett!" said Long Ned, colouring, "I don't know what has come over you of late; but I would have you to learn that gentlemen are entitled to courtesy and polite behaviour; and so, d'ye see, if you ride your high horse upon me, splice my extremities, if I won't have satisfaction!"
"Hist, man, be quiet," said Tomlinson, philosophically snuffing the candles—
"For companions to quarrel,
Is extremely immoral.
Don't you see that the Captain is in a reverie? what good man ever loves to be interrupted in his meditations?—even Alfred the Great could
