Bowles weighed at least two hundred and fifty solid, so that when
he drove his mistress out for an airing of an afternoon the whole
establishment made so shabby and yet so comical an appearance as to
afford the whole neighborhood a subject for amusement. Nor was there a
more self-important person in all Bowling Green than Bowles--except,
perhaps, it might be his mistress. But it was only when he got himself
into those tight-fitting drab trousers, and that bright blue coat with
double rows of brass buttons, and mounted that small, tall hat with the
huge buckle in front, that he fancied himself seen to advantage.
Bowles not only became a feature in Bowling Green society, but indeed
considered himself necessary to the dignity of the family he was
serving, and in duty bound to fight any coachman who would make the
slightest insinuations against it. This got him into numerous
difficulties, for there was not a coachman in the neighborhood that did
not set him down as a fair subject for unpleasant remarks. One called
him a dumpling-stomached darkey; while another said he must have been
brought up in the family and fed on puddings.
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