Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

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Well, on looking over the Flare-up notices to correspondents, I read, one day last April,
among the notices, as follows:—
"'Automodon.' We do not know the precise age of Mr. Baker of Covent Garden Theatre;
nor are we aware if that celebrated son of Thespis is a married man.
"'Ducks and Green-peas' is informed, that when A plays his rook to B's second Knight's
square, and B, moving two squares with his Queen's pawn, gives check to his adversary's
Queen, there is no reason why B's Queen should not take A's pawn, if B be so inclined.
"'F. L. S.' We have repeatedly answered the question about Madame Vestris: her maiden
name was Bartolozzi, and she married the son of Charles Mathews, the celebrated
comedian.
"'Fair Play.' The best amateur billiard and ecarte player in England, is Coxe Tuggeridge
Coxe, Esq., of Portland Place, and Tuggeridgeville: Jonathan, who knows his play, can only
give him two in a game of a hundred; and, at the cards, NO man is his superior. Verbum
sap.
"'Scipio Americanus' is a blockhead."
I read this out to the Count and Tagrag, and both of them wondered how the Editor of that
tremendous Flare-up should get such information; and both agreed that the Baron, who still
piqued himself absurdly on his play, would be vastly annoyed by seeing me preferred thus
to himself. We read him the paragraph, and preciously angry he was. "Id is," he cried, "the
tables" (or "de DABELS," as he called them),—"de horrid dabels; gom viz me to London,
and dry a slate-table, and I vill beat you." We all roared at this; and the end of the dispute
was, that, just to satisfy the fellow, I agreed to play his Excellency at slate-tables, or any
tables he chose.
"Gut," says he, "gut; I lif, you know, at Abednego's, in de Quadrant; his dabels is goot; ve
vill blay dere, if you vill." And I said I would: and it was agreed that, one Saturday night,
when Jemmy was at the Opera, we should go to the Baron's rooms, and give him a chance.
We went, and the little Baron had as fine a supper as ever I saw: lots of Champang (and I
didn't mind drinking it), and plenty of laughing and fun. Afterwards, down we went to
billiards. "Is dish Misther Coxsh, de shelebrated player?" says Mr. Abednego, who was in
the room, with one or two gentlemen of his own persuasion, and several foreign noblemen,
dirty, snuffy, and hairy, as them foreigners are. "Is dish Misther Coxsh? blesh my hart, it is
a honor to see you; I have heard so much of your play."