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Laff, indeed! he cooden git beyond laff; and I'm blest if I could kip it neither, for hearing him pretend ignurnts, and being behind the skreend, settlin somethink for the genlmn, I bust into such a raw of laffing as never was igseeded. "Hullo!" says Bullwig, turning red.
"The pwince of pewiodicals?" says Bullwig; "my dear Sir John, it's the empewow of the pwess." "Soit, let it be the emperor of the press, as you poetically call it: but, between ourselves, confess it, Do not the Tory writers beat your Whigs hollow? You talk about magazines. Look at " "Look at hwat?" shouts out Larder. "There's none, Sir Jan, compared to ourrs." "Pardon me, I think that "
"O thunder and turf!" "FWASER!" says Bullwig. "O ah hum haw yes no why, that is weally no, weally, upon my weputation, I never before heard the name of the pewiodical. By the by, Sir John, what wemarkable good clawet this is; is it Lawose or Laff ?"
Don't believe him, my lord duke; he reads every word of it, the rogue! The boys about that magazine baste him as if he was a sack of oatmale. My reason for crying out, Sir Jan, was because you mintioned Fraser at all. Bullwig has every syllable of it be heart from the pailitix down to the 'Yellowplush Correspondence."
Speaker I mean, Sir John that I allude to the Litewary Chwonicle, of which I have the honor to be pwincipal contwibutor." "Very true; my dear Mr. Bullwig," says my master: "you and I being Whigs, must of course stand by our own friends; and I will agree, without a moment's hesitation, that the Literary what-d'ye-call'em is the prince of periodicals."
I have but to clean my things, and run my errints, and you put clothes on my back, and meat in my mouth. Sir! Mr. Bullwig! an't I right? shall I quit MY station and sink that is to say, rise to YOURS?" Bullwig was violently affected; a tear stood in his glistening i. "Yellowplush," says he, seizing my hand, "you ARE right.
Because I'm Docther Larner, in fact, and mimber of every society in and out of Europe. I might have remained all my life in Thrinity Colledge, and never made such an incom as that offered you by Sir Jan; but I came to London to London, my boy, and now see! Look again at me friend Bullwig.
The charm that gilds around the love it ruins, Oft trifles while it shines, or The ruins that love gilds and shines around Oft trifles while it charms, or Love while it charms shines round and ruins oft The trifles that it gilds, or The love that trifles, gilds and ruins oft While round the charm it shines. All witch are as sen sable as the ferst passadge. Sir Mr. Bullwig, ain't I right?
"Hark ye," says he, "my gossoon, doan't be led asthray by the nonsinse of that divil of a Bullwig. He's jillous of ye, my bhoy: that's the rale, undoubted thruth; and it's only to keep you out of litherary life that he's palavering you in this way.
"A very appropriate simile," says Sir John; "and I am afraid that the genius of our friend Yellowplush has need of some such support." "Apropos," said Bullwig, "who IS Yellowplush?
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