Rhebo is hollow-eyed, lank and meagre of visage. He sleeps little, and
his slumbers are very short. He is absent, he muses, and, though a man
of sense, has a stupid air. He imagines himself troublesome to those he
is conversing with. He relates every thing lamely, and in a few words.
No one listens to him, he does not raise a laugh. He applauds and smiles
at what others say to him, and is of their opinion. He runs, he flies,
to do them little services. He is complaisant, bustling, and a
flatterer. There is no street how crowded soever, but he can easily pass
through it without the least trouble, and slips away unperceived. When
desired to sit, he scarce touches the frame of the chair. He speaks low
in conversation, and is inarticulate; yet sometimes he discourses freely
on public affairs, and is angry at the age. He coughs under his hat, and
spits almost upon himself, he endeavours to sneeze apart from the
company; and puts no person to the trouble of saluting, or paying him a
compliment.----He is poor.
* * * * *