The shops were full of caricatures of the pig-faced lady, in a
poke bonnet and large veil, with "A pig in a poke" written underneath
the print. Another sketch represented Sir William Elliot's misadventure,
and was entitled, "Beware the pig-sty!"
HOBY, THE BOOTMAKER, OF ST. JAMES'S STREET
[Sidenote: _Captain Gronow_]
Hoby was not only the greatest and most fashionable bootmaker in London,
but, in spite of the old adage, _ne sutor ultra crepidam_, he employed
his spare time with considerable success as a Methodist preacher at
Islington. He was said to have in his employment three hundred workmen;
and he was so great a man in his own estimation that he was apt to take
rather an insolent tone with his customers. He was, however, tolerated
as a sort of privileged person, and his impertinence was not only
overlooked but was considered as rather a good joke. He was a pompous
fellow, with a considerable vein of sarcastic humour.
I remember Horace Churchill (afterwards killed in India with the rank of
major-general), who was then an ensign in the Guards, entering Hoby's
shop in a great passion, saying that his boots were so ill made that he
should never employ Hoby for the future. Hoby, putting on a pathetic
cast of countenance, called to his shopman:
"John, close the shutters.
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