palace at Newmarket, and observed that "he thought the rooms too low." Sir Christopher, who was a little man, walked round them, and looking up and about him, said, "I think, and it please your Majesty, they are high enough." Charles, squatting down to his architect's height, and creeping about in this whimsical posture, cried, "Aye, Sir Christopher, I think they are high enough."[1]
The elder Richardson was fond of telling a characteristic story of the King and kingly honour. A cut-purse, or pickpocket, with as much effrontery of face as dexterity of finger, had got into the drawing-room on the King's birthday, dressed like a gentleman, and was detected by the King himself taking a gold snuff-box out of a certain Earl's pocket. The rogue, who saw his sovereign's eye upon him, put his finger to his nose, and made a sign to the King with a wink to say nothing. Charles took the hint, and, watching the Earl, enjoyed his feeling first in one pocket and then in another for his missing box. The King now called the nobleman to him: "You need not give yourself," he said, "any more trouble about it, my Lord, your box is gone; I am myself an accomplice:—I could not help it, I was made a confidant."[2]
Of his graver and deeper remarks Dryden has
