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One day he put his eldeſt boy upon a ladder, to get ſome grapes for the table, when, by the ladder ſlipping, he fell down, and hurt his ſide: The boy had the precaution to go to a Surgeon and get blooded: On his return, his father aſked where he had been, and what was the matter with his arm? He told him that he had got bled. — Bled! bled! ſaid the old gentleman: But what did you give? A ſhilling, anſwered the boy.— Pſhaw! returned the father, you are a blockhead! Never part with your blood and money together.
In the penury of Mr. Elwes, there was ſomething that ſeemed like a judgment from heaven! for all earthly comforts he voluntarily denied himſelf He would walk home in the rain in London, rather than pay a shilling for a couch.—He would ſit with wet cloaths, rather than be at the expence of a fire to dry them — He would eat his proviſions in the laſt ſtage of putrefaction, rather than be at the expence of purchaſing a freſh joint from the butcher. And he wore a wig for above a fortnight, which he picked up out of a rut in a lane.—This was the laſt extremity of laudable economy! for, to all appearance, it was the caſt off wig of ſome beggar! The day in which he first appeared in this ornamental dreſs, exceeded all the power of force! for he had torn a brown coat, which he generally wore, and had therefore been obliged to have recourſe to the old cheſt of Sir Jervaiſe, from whence he had ſelected a full-dreſſed green velvet coat, with ſlaſhed ſleeves; and there he ſat at dinner in boots, the aforeſaid greet velvet coat, his own white hair
