"Japhet! by the immortal powers, I'd bring an action against my godfathers and godmothers; you ought to recover _heavy damages_." "Then I presume you would not have the name," replied I, with a knowing look, "for a clear ten thousand a year." "Whew! that alters the case--it's astonishing how well any name looks in large _gold_ letters. Well, as the old gentleman, whoever he might have been, made you compensation, you must forgive and forget. Now where shall we go?" "With your permission, as I came to town in these clothes, made by a German tailor--Darmstadt's tailor by-the-bye--but still if tailor to a prince, not the prince of tailors--I would wish you to take me to your own: your dress appears very correct." "You show your judgment, Newland, it _is_ correct; Stulz will be delighted to have your name on his books, and to do justice to that figure. _Allons donc_." We sauntered up St James's Street, and before I had arrived at Stulz's, I had been introduced to at least twenty of the young men about town. The Major was most particular in his directions about the clothes, all of which he ordered; and as I knew that he was well acquainted with the fashion, I gave him carte blanche. When we left the shop, he said, "Now, my dear Newland, I have given you a proof of friendship, which no other man in England has had. Your dress will be the ne plus ultra. There are little secrets only known to the initiated, and Stulz is aware that this time I am in earnest. I am often asked to do the same for others, and I pretend so to do; but a wink from me is sufficient, and Stulz dares not dress them. Don't you want some bijouterie? or have you any at home?" "I may as well have a few trifles," replied I. We entered a celebrated jeweller's, and he selected for me to the amount of about forty pounds. "That will do--never buy much; for it is necessary to change every three months at least. What is the price of this chain?" "It is only fifteen guineas, Major." "Well, I shall take it; but recollect," continued the Major; "I tell you honestly, I never shall pay you." The jeweller smiled, bowed, and laughed; the Major threw the chain round his neck, and we quitted the shop. "At all events, Major, they appear not to believe your word in that shop." "My dear fellow, that's their own fault, not mine. I tell them honestly I never will pay them; and you may depend upon it, I intend most sacredly to keep my word. I never do pay anybody, for the best of all possible reasons, I have no money; but then I do them a service--I make them fashionable, and they know it." "What debts do you pay then, Major?" "Let me think--that requires consideration. Oh! I pay my washer-woman." "Don't you pay your debts of honour?"