In short, my rascal Dutton professed himself her admirer, and, by
dint of his outlandish qualifications, threw his rival Clinker
out of the saddle of her heart. Humphry may be compared to an
English pudding, composed of good wholesome flour and suet, and
Dutton to a syllabub or iced froth, which, though agreeable to
the taste, has nothing solid or substantial. The traitor not only
dazzled her, with his second-hand finery, but he fawned, and
flattered, and cringed -- he taught her to take rappee, and
presented her with a snuff-box of papier mache -- he supplied her
with a powder for her teeth -- he mended her complexion, and he
dressed her hair in the Paris fashion -- he undertook to be her
French master and her dancing-master, as well as friseur, and
thus imperceptibly wound himself into her good graces. Clinker
perceived the progress he had made, and repined in secret. -- He
attempted to open her eyes in the way of exhortation, and finding
it produced no effect had recourse to prayer. At Newcastle, while
he attended Mrs Tabby to the methodist meeting his rival
accompanied Mrs Jenkins to the play. He was dressed in a silk
coat, made at Paris for his former master, with a tawdry
waistcoat of tarnished brocade; he wore his hair in a great bag
with a huge solitaire, and a long sword dangled from his thigh.
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