"Bravo, Attie!" cried Clifford, and the word echoed round the board. Attie put a purse on the table, and the next gentleman was called to confession.
"It skills not, boots not," gentlest of readers, to record each of the narratives that now followed one another. Old Bags, in especial, preserved his well-earned reputation, by emptying six pockets, which had been filled with every possible description of petty valuables. Peasant and prince appeared alike to have come under his hands; and, perhaps, the good old man had done in one town more towards effecting an equality of goods among different ranks, than all the Reformers, from Cornwall to Carlisle. Yet so keen was his appetite for the sport, that the veteran appropriator absolutely burst into tears at not having "forked more."
"I love a warm-hearted enthusiasm," cried Clifford, handling the moveables, while he gazed lovingly on the ancient purloiner;—"May new cases never teach us to forget Old Bags!"
As soon as this 'sentiment' had been duly
