| Citation |
RAG.777.097
16 Oct 1777:22 (40)
London, August 10. A correspondent has sent us the
following whimsical dialogue, which, he says, happened at
the Traveller's Office, near Ludgate Hill, while he was
applying the other day for a companion.
Gentleman, (entering) I want, Sir, to register for a partner
at your office.
Clerk. With pleasure, Sir, --- What place are you going to?
Ge. Heaven.
Ck. (looking earnestly at him) You jest, I presume, Sir?
. . . [25 lines of dialogue between Gentleman and Clerk]
Ge. Pray, don't their Lordships the Bishops go my road
sometimes?
Ck. Not till they can't help it, I believe, Sir.
Ge. Well; if I don't get a partner in time, I must set out
alone, that's all.
(Exit, chaunting a hymn)
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