He is arrested, and gone to a lock-up shop, a place of mere accommodation for gentlemen to take up their abode, for the purpose of ~357~~ arranging their affairs, and where they can uninterruptedly make up their minds whether to give bail, put in appearance and defend the suit, or take a trip to Abbott's Priory; become a three months' student in the college of art, and undergo the fashionable ceremony of white-washing." "I begin to understand you now," said Bob, "and the only difference between our two friends is, that one has willingly put on a chain for life--" "And the other may in all probability (continued Tom,) have to chaff his time away with a chum--perhaps not quite so agreeable, though it really is possible to be very comfortable, if a man can reconcile himself to the loss of liberty, even in "durance vile." By this time they were walking leisurely along Piccadilly, "And marching without any cumbersome load, They mark'd every singular sight on the road." "Who is that meagre looking man and waddling woman, who just passed us ?" inquired Tallyho.
"An old Bencher," was the reply; "there you see all that is left of a man of _haut ton_, one who has moved in the highest circles; but alas! bad company and bad play have reduced him to what he now is.

He has cut up and turn'd down very well among the usurers and attornies; but it is impossible to say of him, as of his sirloin of a wife (for she cannot be called a rib, or at all events a spare rib) that there is any thing like cut and come again.

The poor worn-out Exquisite tack'd himself to his Lady, to enable him to wipe out a long score, and she determined on taking him for better for worse, after a little rural felicity in a walk to have her fortune told by a gipsy at Norwood.

He is now crippled in pocket and person, and wholly dependent upon bounty for the chance of prolonging a miserable existence.

His game is up.