' 'Well, let me
tell you,' said Goldsmith, 'when the tailor brought home my bloom-colored
coat, he said, 'Sir, I have a favor to beg of you; when anybody asks you
who made your clothes, be pleased to mention John Filby, at the Harrow, in
Water Lane.' 'Why, sir,' cried Johnson, 'that was because he knew the
strange color would attract crowds to gaze at it, and thus they might hear
of him, and see how well he could make a coat of so absurd a color.'"
But though Goldsmith might permit this raillery on the part of his friends,
he was quick to resent any personalities of the kind from strangers. As he
was one day walking the Strand in grand array with bag-wig and sword, he
excited the merriment of two coxcombs, one of whom called to the other to
"look at that fly with a long pin stuck through it." Stung to the quick,
Goldsmith's first retort was to caution the passers-by to be on their guard
against "that brace of disguised pickpockets"--his next was to step into
the middle of the street, where there was room for action, half draw his
sword, and beckon the joker, who was armed in like manner, to follow him.
This was literally a war of wit which the other had not anticipated. He had
no inclination to push the joke to such an extreme, but abandoning the
ground, sneaked off with his brother wag amid the hootings of the
spectators.
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