CXXV. SCENE FROM PAUL PRY.

CHARACTERS.-Tankard, the landlord; Billy, his attendant; Mr. Oldbutton, a lodger; and Paul Pry.

(Enter Tankard and Billy.)

Tankard. Now, Billy, as this is the first week of your service, you must stir about you, look well to the customers, and see they want nothing.

Billy. I warrant me, sir. Though the folks say I look harmless, I'm sharp. I carry my wits about me in a case, as my grandmother carries her scissors; but, sir, when I like, I can draw and cut, I assure you.

Tan. Well, this is to be proved. Now you know what you have to do, to-day.

Bil. First, there's to attend to Captain Hawkesley, in the blue room; he that locks himself up all the day, and only comes out with the stars. Then, there's to look to fire-works, when the company arrives. Then, there's to get ready the room you call the Elephant, for Mr. Oldbutton, and-and the last of all

Tan. To get rid of that impudent Paul Pry.

Bil. I'll do it, sir.

I have only

Tan. Will you? 'Tis more than I can. taken this inn six months, and he's been here every day. First, he asked me where I got the money to take the house; then, if I was married; whether my wife bore an excellent character; whether my children had had the measles; and, as I would n't answer any of these questions, he hoped he didn't intrude, but begged to know how many lumps of sugar I put into a crown bowl of punch.

Bil. Oh! sir, that's nothing to what he asked me last night. He asked me whether you gave me good wages. Tan. Well, I hope you gave him an answer.

Bil. Yes, I did, sir.

Tan. What did you say?

Bil. Why, I told him my wages were like his good manners; very little of 'em, but I hoped they would both soon mend.

Tan. Well, Billy, only rid me of this intolerable Paul, and your wages shall mend. Here has this Mr. Pry, although he has an establishment of his own in the town, been living and sleeping these six days! But I'm determined to get rid of him; and do you instantly go, Billy, and affront him. Do any thing with him, so as you make him turn his back upon the house. Eh, here's a coach driven up; it is surely Mr. Oldbutton; run, Billy, run. (Exit Billy.) Roaring times, these. (Billy enters, showing in Mr. Oldbutton.) Welcome, sir, most welcome to the Golden Chariot.

Mr. Oldbutton. Landlord, I have some letters to answer. Which is my apartment?

Tan. Why, sir; confound that Paul Pry, he has the gentleman's room, and I can't get him out of it. Why, sir, I did not expect you some hours yet. If you'll have the kindness to step into this apartment for a few minutes, your own room shall be properly arranged. I really beg ten thousand

Mr. Old. No compliments, Mr. Landlord, and when you speak to me in future, keep yourself upright; I hate tradesmen, with backs of whalebone.

Tan. Why, civility, Mr. Oldbutton

Mr. Old. Is this the room? (Tankard bows. Exit Oldbutton.)

Tan. Now, such a customer would deeply offend a man, if he had not the ultimate satisfaction of making out the bill.

(Enter Billy.)

Oh, you've just come in time: ask no questions; there's Mr. Pry's room. If you get him out of the house, I'll

raise your wages.

If you do not, you shall go yourself.

Now you know the terms. (Exit.)

Bil. Then it is either you or myself, Mr. Pry. So here goes. (As Billy is running toward the room, he meets Pry coming.)

Paul Pry. Hope I don't intrude.

is that old gentleman, who just came in?

Bil.

I say, Billy, who

Old gentleman? Why, there's nobody come in.

Paul. Don't fib, Billy, I saw him.

Bil. You saw him! Why, how could you see him, when there's no window in the room?

Paul. I always guard against such an accident, and carry a gimblet with me." (Producing one.) Nothing like making a little hole in the wainscot.

Bil. Why, surely you have n't—

Paul. It has been a fixed principle of my life, Billy, never to take a lodging or a house, with a brick wall to it. say, tell me, who is he?

I

Bil. (Aside.) Well, I'll tell him something. Why, if you must know, I think he's an army lieutenant, on halfpay.

Paul. An army lieutenant! half-pay! ah! that will never afford ribbons and white feathers.

Bil. Now, Mr. Pry, my master desires me to say, he can't accommodate you any longer. Your apartment is wanted, and, really, Mr. Pry, you can't think how much you'll oblige me by going.

Paul. To be sure, Billy, I would n't wish to intrude for the world. Your master is doing a great deal of business in this house. What did he give for the good will of it? Tan. (Without.) Billy.

Bil. There now, I'm called, and I've to make ready the room for the Freemasons, that meet to-day, they that would n't admit you into their society.

Paul. Yes, I know. They thought I should intrude. Tan. (Without.) Billy!

Bil. Now you must go.

Good by, Mr. Pry, I'm called. Paul. Oh, good by, good morning. (Exit.)

Bil. He's gone! I'm coming, sir. (Exit.) (Re-enter Paul Pry.)

Paul. An army lieutenant! Who can it be? I shouldn't wonder if it's Mrs. Thomas's husband; who, she says, was killed in India! If it should be, it will break off her flirting with Mr. Cinnamon, the grocer; there's pretty doings in that quarter, for I caught the rheumatism watching them in a frosty night last winter! An army lieutenant! Mrs. Thomas has a daughter. I'll just peep through the

key-hole, and see if there's a family likeness between them. (Mr. Oldbutton suddenly appears, and discovers Paul.)

Paul. I hope I don't intrude; I was trying to find my apartment.

Mr. Old. Was it necessary to look through the key-hole for it, sir!

Paul. I'm rather short-sighted, sir. Sad affliction! my poor mother was short-sighted, sir; in fact, 't is a family failing; all the Prys are obliged to look close.

Mr. Old. While I sympathize with your distresses, sir, I trust to be exempt from the impertinence which you may attach to them.

Paul. Would not intrude for the world, sir. What may be your opinion, sir, of the present state of the kingdom? How do you like peace? It must press hard upon you gentlemen of the army; a lieutenant's half pay now, is but little, to make both ends meet.

Mr. Old. Sir!

Paul. Especially when a man's benevolent to his poor relations. Now, sir, perhaps you allow something out of your five-and-six-pence a day, to your mother, or maiden sister. Between you and me, I must tell you what I have learnt here.

Mr. Old. Between you and me, sir, I must tell you what I have learnt in India.

Paul. What, have you been in India? Wouldn't intrude an observation for the world; but I thought you had a yellowish look; something of an orange-peel countenance. You've been in India? Although I'm a single man, I wouldn't ask an improper question. But is it true that the blacks employ no tailors nor milliners? If not, what do they do to keep off the flies?

Mr. Old. That is what I was about to inform you. They carry canes. Now, sir, five minutes' conversation with you, has fully convinced me that there are flies in England, as well as in India; and that a man may be as impertinently inquisitive at Dover, as at Bengal. All I have to add is, I carry a cane.

Paul. In such a case, I'm the last to intrude. I've

only one question to ask. Is your name Thomas? whether you have a wife? how old she is? and where you were married?

Mr. Old. Well, sir, a man may sometimes play with a puppy, as well as kick him; and, if it will afford you any satisfaction, learn my name is Thomas.

Paul. Oh! poor Mr. Cinnamon ! This is going to India! Mr. T., I'm afraid you'll find that somebody here has intruded in your place, for between you and me, (Oldbutton surveys him contemptuously, and, while Paul is talking, Oldbutton stalks off. Paul, on looking round.) Well, it is n't that I interfere much in people's concerns. If I did, how unhappy I could make that man. This Freemason's sign puzzles me; they would n't make me a member; but I have slept six nights in the next room to them; and, thanks to my gimblet, I know the business. There was Mr. Smith, who was only in the Gazette last week, taking his brandy and water; he can't afford that, I know. Then there was Mr. Hodgkins, who makes his poor wife and children live upon baked potatoes six days out of the week, (for I know the shop where they are cooked,) calling, like a lord, for a Welch rarebit. I only wish his creditors could see him! but I don't trouble my head with these matters; if I did-eh! Why there is one of the young Joneses, going again to Mr. Notick, the pawnbroker's. That's the third time this week; well, I've just time to run to Notick's, and see what he's brought, before I go to inquire at the post office, who in the town has letters. (Exit.)

FROM POOLE”.

NEW EC. S.-20