This was largely open at the breast, displaying a magnificent whitish-blue cambric frill, while a neckcloth, with a strong dash of the same indigo shade, was twisted round his bull neck as gracefully as a collar round a mastiff's; while, above it, the peaks of his shirt stood up in such pomp of starch and stiffness, that I could not help considering his ears in some peril. When he entered, he had replaced the small, narrow-brimmed, glazed hat, that had been knocked off by Sally in her paroxysm; the oily appearance of which, in such a climate, was enough to make one perspire, and rolled in, quite at home apparently, with a hand stuck into each side-pocket. Altogether he looked like a broiled man; but when he sat down at table, I was refreshed by noticing that his hands were beautifully white; and, according to Lord Byron's maxim, I took this as a kind of voucher, for want of a better, that the nondescript was a gentleman. His companion was a tall, thin, dark, young fellow, apparently about twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, with short, curly, fair hair, dressed in white jean pantaloons, with long Hessian boots drawn up over them to his knees, white waistcoat and neckcloth, and a blue coat. There was nothing peculiar about his appearance. We all carried on for some time in silence. At length the shortest of my new acquaintances asked me to drink wine with him. "Your good health, sir. Here's to our better acquaintance." "Massa Jacob," quoth Mammy Sally, who was superintending the attendance of her servants, with a knowing look, "you know who you drink wine wid?" Mr Twig looked round at her with an expression efface as if he neither knew nor cared. "Ha, I see--you tink you know every ting, Massa Jacob, but--but--oh dear, oh dear--you no know--you no know?--why it is Massa Benjamin himself--Massa Benjamin Brail, dat old Massa Latom so long for see." Massa Jacob at this rose, with his table napkin in his hand, and first looking steadfastly at me, munching all the time, and then regarding the old lady, with his mouth full, he stretched his hand across the table to me. "If you be Mr Brail, I am particularly rejoiced to see you. Your uncle, young gentleman, is my most especial friend; and there is not a worthier man breathing. I knew you were expected; and as I am bound, with Mr Felix Flamingo there, on a visit to Mr Frenche--Mr Flamingo, Mr Brail--Mr Brail, Mr Flamingo, of the extensive Kingston firm of Peaweep, Snipe, and Flamingo--ahem--as I was saying, we are bound on a visit to this very identical uncle of yours. So nothing could have been more opportune than our meeting." "Flamingo,--Peaweep, and Flamingo?" said I to myself; "My uncle Peter's agents, by all that is fortunate! Come, this will do. But whom have I the honour of addressing?" said I, turning to the red-faced man, not a little startled at such sudden cordiality on the part of a stranger.