Breaking open the envelope, he read with astonishment the following lines:-- "Tho' justice prevails Under big wigs and tails, You've not much of law in your nob; So this warning pray take, Your big wig forsake, And try a more modern scratch, Bob." "Go along Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob in a scratch," cried a Waterman at his elbow, (who had heard him reading) in a voice loud enough to be heard at some distance.
"There he'll be at home to a hair," squeaked a little finicking personification of a modern Peruquier, sidling up to him, picking his teeth with a tortoise-shell comb.
Bob, in bursting hastily away, under the reiterated cries of "Go along Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob," with the idea of overtaking the Postman, found himself in a moment lock'd in the close embraces of a Meg Merrilies; while a little bandy-legg'd representative of the late Sir Jeffery Dunstan, bawling out, Ould wigs, Ould wigs, made a snatch at the grave appendage of Justice, and completely dismantled the head of its august representative.

This delayed him in his progress, but it was merely to witness the wig flying in the air, with as much mirth to the surrounding company as when the greasy night-cap of the Rev.George Harvest was toss'd about the pit at the theatre, each one giving it a swing who could get within reach of it.

Thus mutilated in his ~414~~ apparel, and probably conceiving, according to the song, "The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig, The wisdom's in the wig," Bob Tallyho took flight into a dressing-room, declaring justice was abroad and propriety not at home.

He was however rather at a loss, as in his last character he had not been able to meet with the Turk, but determined to resume the search in a 'Domino.

Having therefore equipped himself as a spectator, he again sallied forth with intention to explore the room, and for a time remained comparatively unmolested; but as he could no where find his Cousin, he strolled indiscriminately among the characters, viewing whatever appeared amusing or interesting in his way.