The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

THE EXPEDITION OF HUMPHRY CLINKER 297
but he is of a complexion very different from that of Baynard.
You have heard me mention Sir Thomas Bullford, whom I knew
in Italy. He is now become a country gentleman; but, being dis-
abled by the gout from enjoying any amusement abroad, he enter-
tains himself within doors, by keeping open house for all comers,
and playing upon the oddities and humours of his company: but
he himself is generally the greatest original at his table. He is very
good-humoured, talks much, and laughs without ceasing. I am
told that all the use he makes of his understanding at present, is to
excite mirth, by exhibiting his guests in ludicrous attitudes. I know
not how far we may furnish him with entertainment of this kind,
but I am resolved to beat up his quarters, partly with a view to
laugh with the knight himself, and partly to pay my respects to his
lady, a good-natured sensible woman, with whom he lives upon
very easy terms, although she has not had the good fortune to
bring him an heir to his estate.
And now, dear Dick, I must tell you for your comfort, that you
are the only man upon earth to whom I would presume to send
such a long-winded epistle, which I could not find in my heart to
curtail, because the subject interested the warmest passions of my
heart; neither will I make any other apology to a correspondent who
has been so long accustomed to the impertinence of
Sept. 30. MATT. BRAMBLE
To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. at Oxon.
DEAR KNIGHT,
I BELIEVE there is something mischievous in my disposition, for
nothing diverts me so much as to see certain characters tormented
with false terrors.—We last night lodged at the house of sir Thomas
Bullford, an old friend of my uncle, a jolly fellow, of moderate
intellects, who, in spite of the gout, which hath lamed him, is
resolved to be merry to the last, and mirth he has a particular knack
in extracting from his guests, let their humour be never so caustic
or refractory.—Besides our company, there was in the house a
fat-headed justice of the peace, called Frogmore, and a country
practitioner in surgery, who seemed to be our landlord’s chief com-
panion and confidant.—We found the knight sitting on a couch,