This," said he, addressing the two
members, "is so and so, the author of so and so, the well-known
philologist; as I was telling you, I spoke to Lord A--- this day
about him, and said that he ought forthwith to have the head
appointment in--and what did the fellow say? Why, that there was
no necessity for such an appointment at all, and if there were,
why--and then he hummed and ha'd. Yes," said he, looking at the
writer, "he did indeed. What a scandal! what an infamy! But I see
how it will be, it will be a job. The place will be given to some
son of a steward or to some quack, as I said before. Oh, these
Tories! Well, if this does not make one-- " Here he stopped
short, crunched his teeth, and looked the image of desperation.
Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer begged
him to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to heart;
but the indignant Radical took the matter very much to heart, and
refused all comfort whatever, bouncing about the room, and, whilst
his spectacles flashed in the light of four spermaceti candles,
exclaiming, "It will be a job--a Tory job! I see it all, I see it
all, I see it all!"
And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory job.
Shortly afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in.
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