" "A _Blanquette de Veau_,
then, if you like, Sir." "Blanket de Vo! a cover to lay, indeed, Crowns.
Mem: inhabitants of Gin stew blankets of the country, and then eat
them--the Alsatians!" "Poultry, Sir, if you desire it." "Ah! some hopes
there, Money--What is that you hold?" "A _Poularde_, Sir." "Obliged,
Crowns--no Pull-hard thank you, devilish tough I doubt--Mem: fowl called
Pull-hard at Gin--Try again, my man." "A _Dindon_ and _dans son
jus_, Sir." "Ding dong and a dancing Jew!--sort of stewed Rothschild, I
suppose--Well! if I don't mean exactly to starve, I fear I must even
venture on the Jew.--Not bad, by Long--Mem: Dancing Jews in sauce
capital--mention that to young G----, of the Tenth." The business of
mastication arrested for a moment the sapient remarks of the
_Impayable_, until our notice was again attracted by his leaping from
his chair, and cutting divers capers around the room, which, if they did
honour to his agility, harmonized but ill with the precisian starchness of
his habiliments, the order whereof was grievously _derange_ by his
antics.--"Water! water! Crowns.--I have emptied the vinegar cruet by
mistake--Oh Lud! can scarcely breathe--Water! Crowns, water! in mercy.
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