The steady old boys are certain stout old gentlemen of clean appearance, who are always to be seen in the same taverns, at the same hours every evening, smoking and drinking in the same company.
There was once a fine collection of old boys to be seen round the circular table at Offley's every night, between the hours of half-past eight and half-past eleven.

We have lost sight of them for some time.
There were, and may be still, for aught we know, two splendid specimens in full blossom at the Rainbow Tavern in Fleet-street, who always used to sit in the box nearest the fireplace, and smoked long cherry-stick pipes which went under the table, with the bowls resting on the floor.

Grand old boys they were--fat, red-faced, white-headed old fellows--always there--one on one side the table, and the other opposite--puffing and drinking away in great state.

Everybody knew them, and it was supposed by some people that they were both immortal.
Mr.John Dounce was an old boy of the latter class (we don't mean immortal, but steady), a retired glove and braces maker, a widower, resident with three daughters--all grown up, and all unmarried--in Cursitor-street, Chancery-lane.

He was a short, round, large-faced, tubbish sort of man, with a broad-brimmed hat, and a square coat; and had that grave, but confident, kind of roll, peculiar to old boys in general.
Regular as clockwork--breakfast at nine--dress and tittivate a little--down to the Sir Somebody's Head--a glass of ale and the paper--come back again, and take daughters out for a walk--dinner at three--glass of grog and pipe--nap--tea--little walk--Sir Somebody's Head again--capital house--delightful evenings.