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diff --git a/5645.txt b/5645.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92f6d72 --- /dev/null +++ b/5645.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1668 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Part 1., by Robert Seymour + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), Part 1. + +Author: Robert Seymour + +Release Date: July 11, 2004 [EBook #5645] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR + +Part 1. + + + +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION: + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +My copy has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. Some of +the plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." There are 90 plates including the +title pages. I believe this book was originally a compilation of five +smaller volumes, though the separate volumes are not apparent. From the +mixed chapter titles the reader may suspect, as I do, that the printer +thoroughly mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete set in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes so that each volume +is of a more manageable size than this 7mb complete version. + +The value of this collection to me is in the art of the engravings. +The text seems generally mundane, is full of conundrums and puns that +were popular in the early 1800's, and is mercifully short. No author is +given credit for the text though the section titled, "The Autobiography +of Andrew Mullins" may give us at least his pen-name. + DW + + + + +CONTENTS: + + + EVERYDAY SCENES. + SCENE I. Sleeping Fisherman. + SCENE II. A lark--early in the morning. + SCENE III. The rapid march of Intellect! + SCENE IV. Sally, I told my missus vot you said. + SCENE V. How does it fit behind? + SCENE VI. Catching-a cold. + SCENE VII. This is vot you calls rowing, is it? + SCENE VIII. In for it, or Trying the middle. + + A DAY'S SPORT. + CHAP. I. The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth + CHAP. II. The Death of a little Pig + CHAP. III. The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure + CHAP. IV. Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf! + CHAP. V. A Publican taking Orders. + CHAP. VI. The Reckoning. + CHAP. VII. A sudden Explosion + + OTHER SCENES. + SCENE IX. Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman + SCENE X. I begin to think I may as well go back. + SCENE XI. Mother says fishes comes from hard roes + SCENE XII. Ambition. + SCENE XIII. Better luck next time. + SCENE XIV. Don't you be saucy, Boys. + SCENE XV. Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! + SCENE XVI. Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong! + SCENE XVII. I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em. + SCENE XVIII. Have you read the leader in this paper + SCENE XIX. An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq. + SCENE XX. The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. + SCENE XXI. The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.(Continued) + SCENE XXII. The Itinerant Musician. + SCENE XXIII. The Confessions of a Sportsman. + + MISCELLANEOUS. + PLATE I. THE JOLLY ANGLERS. + PLATE II. THE BILL-STICKER. + PLATE III. OLD FOOZLE. + PLATE IV. THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I. + PLATE V. THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II. + PLATE VI. THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. III. + PLATE VII. DOCTOR SPRAGGS. + PLATE VIII. [SCENE IX.(b)] Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites? + PLATE IX. THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON. + PLATE X. THE PIC-NIC. No. I. + PLATE XI. THE PIC-NIC. No. II. + PLATE XII. THE BUMPKIN. + FRONTPIECE II. SHOOTING + TITLE PAGE II. VOLUME II. + PLATE XIII. [WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL] + PLATE XIV. DELICACY! + PLATE XV. Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row + PLATE XVI. STEAMING IT TO MARGATE. + PLATE XVII. PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I. + PLATE XVIII. PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II. + PLATE XIX. DOBBS'S "DUCK."--A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN. + PLATE XX. STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM. + PLATE XXI. A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.--THE JOURNEY OUT. + PLATE XXII. A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II.--THE JOURNEY HOME. + PLATE XXIII. [HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream + PLATE XXIV. PRACTICE. + PLATE XXV. PRECEPT. + PLATE XXVI. EXAMPLE. + PLATE XXVII. A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. + PLATE XXVIII. THE EATING HOUSE. + PLATE XXIX. [SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir + PLATE XXX. GONE! + PLATE XXXI. THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I. + PLATE XXXII. THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II. + PLATE XXXIII. FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE. + + ANDREW MULLINS.--AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. + CHAP. I. Introductory + CHAP. II. Let the neighbors smell ve has something + CHAP. III. I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly + CHAP. IV. A Situation. + CHAP. V. The Stalking Horse. + CHAP. VI. A Commission. + CHAP. VII. The Cricket Match + CHAP. VIII. The Hunter. + CHAP. IX. A Row to Blackwall. + CHAP. X. The Pic-Nic. + CHAP. XI. The Journey Home. + CHAP. XII. Monsieur Dubois. + CHAP. XIII. My Talent Called into Active Service. + CHAP. XIV. A Dilemma. + CHAP. XV. An Old Acquaintance. + CHAP. XVI. The Loss of a Friend. + CHAP. XVII. Promotion. + + A RIGMAROLE. + PART I. "De omnibus rebus." + PART II. "Acti labores Sunt jucundi" + PART III. "Oderunt hilarem tristes." + + AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE. + PLATE I. Dye think ve shall be in time for the hunt? + PLATE II. Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay! + + + + +EVERYDAY SCENES. + + +SCENE I. + +"Walked twenty miles over night: up before peep o' day again got a +capital place; fell fast asleep; tide rose up to my knees; my hat was +changed, my pockets picked, and a fish ran away with my hook; dreamt of +being on a Polar expedition and having my toes frozen." + + +O! IZAAK WALTON!--Izaak Walton!--you have truly got me into a precious +line, and I certainly deserve the rod for having, like a gudgeon, so +greedily devoured the delusive bait, which you, so temptingly, threw out +to catch the eye of my piscatorial inclination! I have read of right +angles and obtuse angles, and, verily, begin to believe that there are +also right anglers and obtuse anglers--and that I am really one of the +latter class. But never more will I plant myself, like a weeping willow, +upon the sedgy bank of stream or river. No!--on no account will I draw +upon these banks again, with the melancholy prospect of no effects! The +most 'capital place' will never tempt me to 'fish' again! + +My best hat is gone: not the 'way of all beavers'--into the water--but to +cover the cranium of the owner of this wretched 'tile;' and in vain shall +I seek it; for 'this' and 'that' are now certainly as far as the 'poles' +asunder. + +My pockets, too, are picked! Yes--some clever 'artist' has drawn me +while asleep! + +My boots are filled with water, and my soles and heels are anything but +lively or delighted. Never more will I impale ye, Gentles! on the word +of a gentleman!--Henceforth, O! Hooks! I will be as dead to your +attractions as if I were 'off the hooks!' and, in opposition to the maxim +of Solomon, I will 'spare the rod.' + +Instead of a basket of fish, lo! here's a pretty kettle of fish for the +entertainment of my expectant friends--and sha'n't I be baited? as the +hook said to the anger: and won't the club get up a Ballad on the +occasion, and I, who have caught nothing, shall probably be made the +subject of a 'catch!' + +Slush! slush!--Squash! squash! + +O! for a clean pair of stockings!--But, alack, what a tantalizing +situation I am in!--There are osiers enough in the vicinity, but no hose +to be had for love or money! + + + + +SCENE II. + +A lark--early in the morning. + + +Two youths--and two guns appeared at early dawn in the suburbs. The +youths were loaded with shooting paraphernalia and provisions, and their +guns with the best Dartford gunpowder--they were also well primed for +sport--and as polished as their gunbarrels, and both could boast a good +'stock' of impudence. + +"Surely I heard the notes of a bird," cried one, looking up and down the +street; "there it is again, by jingo!" + +"It's a lark, I declare," asserted his brother sportsman. + +"Lark or canary, it will be a lark if we can bring it down," replied his +companion. + +"Yonder it is, in that ere cage agin the wall." + +"What a shame!" exclaimed the philanthropic youth,--"to imprison a +warbler of the woodlands in a cage, is the very height of +cruelty--liberty is the birthright of every Briton, and British bird! I +would rather be shot than be confined all my life in such a narrow +prison. What a mockery too is that piece of green turf, no bigger than a +slop-basin. How it must aggravate the feelings of one accustomed to +range the meadows." + +"Miserable! I was once in a cage myself," said his chum. + +"And what did they take you for?" + +"Take me for?--for a 'lark.'" + +"Pretty Dickey!" + +"Yes, I assure you, it was all 'dickey' with me." + +"And did you sing?" + +"Didn't I? yes, i' faith I sang pretty small the next morning when they +fined me, and let me out. An idea strikes me Suppose you climb up that +post, and let out this poor bird, ey?" + +"Excellent." + +"And as you let him off, I'll let off my gun, and we'll see whether I +can't 'bang' him in the race." + +No sooner said than done: the post was quickly climbed--the door of the +cage was thrown open, and the poor bird in an attempt at 'death or +liberty,' met with the former. + +Bang went the piece, and as soon as the curling smoke was dissipated, +they sought for their prize, but in vain; the piece was discharged so +close to the lark, that it was blown to atoms, and the feathers strewed +the pavement. + +"Bolt!" cried the freedom-giving youth, "or we shall have to pay for the +lark." + +"Very likely," replied the other, who had just picked up a few feathers, +and a portion of the dissipated 'lark,'--"for look, if here ain't +the--bill, never trust me." + + + + +SCENE III. + +"You shall have the paper directly, Sir, but really the debates are so +very interesting." + +"Oh! pray don't hurry, Sir, it's only the scientific notices I care +about." + +What a thrill of pleasure pervades the philanthropic breast on beholding +the rapid march of Intellect! The lamp-lighter, but an insignificant +'link' in the vast chain of society, has now a chance of shining at the +Mechanics', and may probably be the means of illuminating a whole parish. + +Literature has become the favourite pursuit of all classes, and the +postman is probably the only man who leaves letters for the vulgar +pursuit of lucre! Even the vanity of servant-maids has undergone a +change--they now study 'Cocker' and neglect their 'figures.' + +But the dustman may be said, 'par excellence,' to bear--the bell! + +In the retired nook of an obscure coffee-shop may frequently be observed +a pair of these interesting individuals sipping their mocha, newspaper in +hand, as fixed upon a column--as the statue of Napoleon in the Place +Vendome, and watching the progress of the parliamentary bills, with as +much interest as the farmer does the crows in his corn-field! + +They talk of 'Peel,' and 'Hume,' and 'Stanley,' and bandy about their +names as familiarly as if they were their particular acquaintances. + +"What a dust the Irish Member kicked up in the House last night," remarks +one. + +"His speech was a heap o' rubbish," replied the other. + +"And I've no doubt was all contracted for! For my part I was once a +Reformer--but Rads and Whigs is so low, that I've turned Conservative." + +"And so am I, for my Sal says as how it's so genteel!" + +"Them other chaps after all on'y wants to throw dust in our eyes! But +it's no go, they're no better than a parcel o' thimble riggers just +making the pea come under what thimble they like,--and it's 'there it +is,' and 'there it ain't,'--just as they please--making black white, and +white black, just as suits 'em--but the liberty of the press--" + +"What's the liberty of the press?" + +"Why calling people what thinks different from 'em all sorts o' +names--arn't that a liberty?" + +"Ay, to be sure!--but it's time to cut--so down with the dust--and let's +bolt!" + + + + +SCENE IV. + +"Oh! Sally, I told my missus vot you said your missus said about +her."--"Oh! and so did I, Betty; I told my missus vot you said yourn said +of her, and ve had sich a row!" + + +SALLY. +OH! Betty, ve had sich a row!--there vas never nothink like it;-- +I'm quite a martyr. +To missus's pranks; for, 'twixt you and me, she's a bit of a tartar. +I told her vord for vord everythink as you said, +And I thought the poor voman vould ha' gone clean out of her head! + + +BETTY. +Talk o' your missus! she's nothink to mine,--I on'y hope they von't meet, +Or I'm conwinced they vill go to pulling of caps in the street: +Sich kicking and skrieking there vas, as you never seed, And she vos so +historical, it made my wery heart bleed. + + +SALLY. +Dear me! vell, its partic'lar strange people gives themselves sich airs, +And troubles themselves so much 'bout other people's affairs; For my +part, I can't guess, if I died this werry minute, +Vot's the use o' this fuss--I can't see no reason in it. + + +BETTY. +Missus says as how she's too orrystocratic to mind wulgar people's +tattle, +And looks upon some people as little better nor cattle. + + +SALLY. +And my missus says no vonder, as yourn can sport sich a dress, For ven +some people's husbands is vite-vashed, their purses ain't less; +This I will say, thof she puts herself in wiolent rages, +She's not at all stingy in respect of her sarvant's wages. + + +BETTY. + + +Ah! you've got the luck of it--for my missus is as mean as she's proud; +On'y eight pound a-year, and no tea and sugar allowed. +And then there's seven children to do for--two is down with the measles, +And t'others, poor things! is half starved, and as thin as weazles; +And then missus sells all the kitchen stuff!--(you don't know my trials!) +And takes all the money I get at the rag-shop for the vials! + + +SALLY. +Vell! I could'nt stand that!--If I was you, I'd soon give her warning. + + +BETTY. +She's saved me the trouble, by giving me notice this morning. But--hush! +I hear master bawling out for his shaving water-- +Jist tell your missus from me, mine's everythink as she thought her! + + + + +SCENE V. + +"How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders--we'll never +trouble the tailors again, I promise them." + + +It is the proud boast of some men that they have 'got a wrinkle.' How +elated then ought this individual to be who has got so many! and yet, +judging from the fretful expression of his physiognomy, one would suppose +that he is by no means in 'fit' of good humour. + +His industrious rib, however, appears quite delighted with her handiwork, +and in no humour to find the least fault with the loose habits of her +husband. He certainly looks angry, as a man naturally will when his +'collar' is up. + +She, on the other hand, preserves her equanimity in spite of his +unexpected frowns, knowing from experience that those who sow do not +always reap; and she has reason to be gratified, for every beholder will +agree in her firm opinion, that even that inimitable ninth of +ninths--Stulz, never made such a coat! + +In point of economy, we must allow some objections may be made to the +extravagant waist, while the cuffs she has bestowed on him may probably +be a fair return (with interest) of buffets formerly received. + +The tail (in two parts) is really as amusing as any 'tale' that ever +emanated from a female hand. There is a moral melancholy about it that +is inexpressibly interesting, like two lovers intended for each other, +and that some untoward circumstance has separated; they are 'parted,' and +yet are still 'attached,' and it is evident that one seems 'too long' for +the other. + +The 'goose' generally finishes the labours of the tailor. Now, some +carping critics may be wicked enough to insinuate that this garb too was +finished by a goose! The worst fate I can wish to such malignant +scoffers is a complete dressing from this worthy dame; and if she does +not make the wisest of them look ridiculous, then, and not till then, +will I abjure my faith in her art of cutting! + +And proud ought that man to be of such a wife; for never was mortal +'suited' so before! + + + + +SCENE VI. + +"Catching--a cold." + + +What a type of true philosophy and courage is this Waltonian! + +Cool and unmoved he receives the sharp blows of the blustering wind--as +if he were playing dummy to an experienced pugilist. + +Although he would undoubtedly prefer the blast with the chill off, he is +so warm an enthusiast, in the pursuit of his sport, that he looks with +contempt upon the rude and vulgar sport of the elements. He really +angles for love--and love alone--and limbs and body are literally +transformed to a series of angles! + +Bent and sharp as his own hook, he watches his smooth float in the rough, +but finds, alas! that it dances to no tune. + +Time and bait are both lost in the vain attempt: patiently he rebaits, +until he finds the rebait brings his box of gentles to a discount; and +then, in no gentle humour, with a baitless hook, and abated ardor, he +winds up his line and his day's amusement(?)--and departs, with the +determination of trying fortune (who has tried him) on some, future and +more propitious day. Probably, on the next occasion, he may be gratified +with the sight of, at least, one gudgeon, should the surface of the river +prove glassy smooth and mirror-like. (We are sure his self-love will not +be offended at the reflection!) and even now he may, with truth, aver, +that although he caught nothing, he, at least, took the best perch in the +undulating stream! + + + + +SCENE VII. + +"Help! help! Oh! you murderous little villin? this is vot you calls +rowing, is it?--but if ever I gets safe on land again, I'll make you +repent it, you rascal. I'll row you--that I will." + + +"Mister Vaterman, vot's your fare for taking me across?" + +"Across, young 'ooman? vy, you looks so good-tempered, I'll pull you +over for sixpence?" + +"Are them seats clean?" + +"O! ker-vite:--I've just swabb'd 'em down." + +"And werry comfortable that'll be! vy, it'll vet my best silk?" + +"Vatered silks is all the go. Vel! vell! if you don't like; it, there's +my jacket. There, sit down a-top of it, and let me put my arm round +you." + +"Fellow!" + +"The arm of my jacket I mean; there's no harm in that, you know." + +"Is it quite safe? How the wind blows!" + +"Lord! how timorsome you be! vy, the vind never did nothin' else since I +know'd it" + +"O! O! how it tumbles! dearee me!" + +"Sit still! for ve are just now in the current, and if so be you go over +here, it'll play old gooseberry with you, I tell you." + +"Is it werry deep?" + +"Deep as a lawyer." + +"O! I really feel all over"-- + +"And, by Gog, you'll be all over presently--don't lay your hand on my +scull" + +"You villin, I never so much as touched your scull. You put me up." + +"I must put you down. I tell you what it is, young 'ooman, if you vant +to go on, you must sit still; if you keep moving, you'll stay where you +are--that's all! There, by Gosh! we're in for it." At this point of +the interesting dialogue, the young 'ooman gave a sudden lurch to +larboard, and turned the boat completely over. The boatman, blowing like +a porpoise, soon strode across the upturned bark, and turning round, +beheld the drenched "fare" clinging to the stern. + +"O! you partic'lar fool!" exclaimed the waterman. "Ay, hold on a-stern, +and the devil take the hindmost, say I!" + + + + +SCENE VIII. + +In for it, or Trying the middle. + + +A little fat man +With rod, basket, and can, +And tackle complete, +Selected a seat +On the branch of a wide-spreading tree, +That stretch'd over a branch of the Lea: +There he silently sat, +Watching his float--like a tortoise-shell cat, +That hath scented a mouse, +In the nook of a room in a plentiful house. +But alack! +He hadn't sat long--when a crack +At his back +Made him turn round and pale-- +And catch hold of his tail! +But oh! 'twas in vain +That he tried to regain +The trunk of the treacherous tree; +So he +With a shake of his head +Despairingly said-- +"In for it,--ecod!" +And away went his rod, +And his best beaver hat, +Untiling his roof! +But he cared not for that, +For it happened to be a superb water proof, +Which not being himself, +The poor elf! +Felt a world of alarm +As the arm +Most gracefully bow'd to the stream, +As if a respect it would show it, +Tho' so much below it! +No presence of mind he dissembled, +But as the branch shook so he trembled, +And the case was no longer a riddle +Or joke; +For the branch snapp'd and broke; +And altho' +The angler cried "Its no go!" +He was presently--'trying the middle.' + + + + + + +SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES + + + +A DAY'S SPORT + +"Arena virumque cano." + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The Invitation--the Outfit--and the sallying forth. + + +TO Mr. AUGUSTUS SPRIGGS, + +AT Mr. WILLIAMS'S, GROCER, ADDLE STREET. + +(Tower Street, 31st August, 18__) + +My dear Chum, + +Dobbs has give me a whole holiday, and it's my intention to take the +field to-morrow--and if so be you can come over your governor, and cut +the apron and sleeves for a day--why + +"Together we will range the fields;" + +and if we don't have some prime sport, my name's not Dick, that's all. + +I've bought powder and shot, and my cousin which is Shopman to my Uncle +at the corner, have lent me a couple of guns that has been 'popp'd.' +Don't mind the expense, for I've shot enough for both. Let me know by +Jim if you can cut your stick as early as nine, as I mean to have a lift +by the Highgate what starts from the Bank. + +Mind, I won't take no refusal--so pitch it strong to the old 'un, and +carry your resolution nem. con. + +And believe me to be, your old Crony, + +RICHARD GRUBB. + +P. S. The guns hasn't got them thingummy 'caps,' but that's no matter, +for cousin says them cocks won't always fight: while them as he has lent +is reg'lar good--and never misses fire nor fires amiss. + + +In reply to this elegant epistle, Mr. Richard Grubb was favoured with a +line from Mr. Augustus Spriggs, expressive of his unbounded delight in +having prevailed upon his governor to 'let him out;' and concluding with +a promise of meeting the coach at Moorgate. + +At the appointed hour, Mr. Richard Grubb, 'armed at all points,' mounted +the stage--his hat cocked knowingly over his right eye--his gun +half-cocked and slung over his shoulder, and a real penny Cuba in his +mouth. + +"A fine mornin' for sport," remarked Mr. Richard Grubb to his +fellow--passenger, a stout gentleman between fifty and sixty years of +age, with a choleric physiognomy and a fierce-looking pigtail. + +"I dessay--" + +"Do you hang out at Highgate?" continued the sportsman. + +"Hang out?" + +"Ay, are you a hinhabitant?" + +"To be sure I am." + +"Is there any birds thereabouts?" + +"Plenty o' geese," sharply replied the old gentleman. + +"Ha! ha! werry good!--but I means game;--partridges and them sort o' +birds." + +"I never see any except what I've brought down." + +"I on'y vish I may bring down all I see, that's all," chuckled the joyous +Mr. Grubb. + +"What's the matter?" + +"I don't at all like that 'ere gun." + +"Lor! bless you, how timorsome you are, 'tain't loaded." + +"Loaded or not loaded, it's werry unpleasant to ride with that gun o' +yours looking into one's ear so." + +"Vell, don't be afeard, I'll twist it over t'other shoulder,--there! but +a gun ain't a coach, you know, vich goes off whether it's loaded or not. +Hollo! Spriggs! here you are, my boy, lord! how you are figg'd +out--didn't know you--jump up!" + +"Vere's my instrument o' destruction?" enquired the lively Augustus, when +he had succeeded in mounting to his seat. + +"Stow'd him in the boot!" + +The coachman mounted and drove off; the sportsmen chatting and laughing +as they passed through 'merry Islington.' + +"Von't ve keep the game alive!" exclaimed Spriggs, slapping his friend +upon the back. + +"I dessay you will," remarked the caustic old boy with the pigtail; "for +it's little you'll kill, young gentlemen, and that's my belief!" + +"On'y let's put 'em up, and see if we don't knock 'em down, as cleverly +as Mister Robins does his lots," replied Spriggs, laughing at his own +wit. + +Arrived at Highgate, the old gentleman, with a step-fatherly anxiety, +bade them take care of the 'spring-guns' in their perambulations. + +"Thankee, old boy," said Spriggs, "but we ain't so green as not to know +that spring guns, like spring radishes, go off long afore Autumn, you +know!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +The Death of a little Pig, which proves a great Bore! + + +"Now let's load and prime--and make ready," said Mr. Richard, when they +had entered an extensive meadow, "and--I say--vot are you about? Don't +put the shot in afore the powder, you gaby!" + +Having charged, they shouldered their pieces and waded through the tall +grass. + +"O! crikey!--there's a heap o' birds," exclaimed Spriggs, looking up at a +flight of alarmed sparrows. "Shall I bring 'em down?" + +"I vish you could! I'd have a shot at 'em," replied Mr. Grubb, "but +they're too high for us, as the alderman said ven they brought him a +couple o' partridges vot had been kept overlong!" + +"My eye! if there ain't a summat a moving in that 'ere grass yonder--cock +your eye!" "Cock your gun--and be quiet," said Mr. Grubb. The anxiety of +the two sportsmen was immense. "It's an hare--depend on't--stoop +down--pint your gun,--and when I say fire--fire! there it is--fire!" + +Bang! bang! went the two guns, and a piercing squeak followed the report. + +"Ve've tickled him," exclaimed Spriggs, as they ran to pick up the spoil. + +"Ve've pickled him, rayther," cried Grubbs, "for by gosh it's a piggy!" + +"Hallo! you chaps, vot are you arter?" inquired a man, popping his head +over the intervening hedge. "Vy, I'm blessed if you ain't shot von o' +Stubbs's pigs." And leaping the hedge he took the 'pork' in his arms, +while the sportsmen who had used their arms so destructively now took to +their legs for security. But ignorance of the locality led them into the +midst of a village, and the stentorian shouts of the pig-bearer soon +bringing a multitude at their heels, Mr. Richard Grubb was arrested in +his flight. Seized fast by the collar, in the grasp of the butcher and +constable of the place, all escape was vain. Spriggs kept a respectful +distance. + +"Now my fine fellow," cried he, brandishing his staff, "you 'ither pays +for that 'ere pig, or ve'll fix you in the cage." + +Now the said cage not being a bird-cage, Mr. Richard Grubb could see no +prospect of sport in it, and therefore fearfully demanded the price of +the sucking innocent, declaring his readiness to 'shell out.' + +Mr. Stubbs, the owner, stepped forward, and valued it at eighteen +shillings. + +"Vot! eighteen shillings for that 'ere little pig!" exclaimed the +astounded sportsman. "Vy I could buy it in town for seven any day." + +But Mr. Stubbs was obdurate, and declared that he would not 'bate a +farden,' and seeing no remedy, Mr. Richard Grubb was compelled to 'melt a +sovereign,' complaining loudly of the difference between country-fed and +town pork! + +Shouldering his gun, he joined his companion in arms, amid the jibes and +jeers of the grinning rustics. + +"Vell, I'm blowed if that ain't a cooler!" said he. + +"Never mind, ve've made a hit at any rate," said the consoling Spriggs, +"and ve've tried our metal." + +"Yes, it's tried my metal preciously--changed a suv'rin to two bob! by +jingo!" + +"Let's turn Jews," said Spriggs, "and make a vow never to touch pork +again!" + +"Vot's the use o' that?" + +"Vy, we shall save our bacon in future, to be sure," replied Spriggs, +laughing, and Grubb joining in his merriment, they began to look about +them, not for fresh pork, but for fresh game. + +"No more shooting in the grass, mind!" said Grubb, "or ve shall have the +blades upon us agin for another grunter p'r'aps. Our next haim must be +at birds on the ving! No more forking out. Shooting a pig ain't no lark +--that's poz!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure--Grubb gets on a paling and runs a +risk of being impaled. + + +"Twig them trees?"--said Grubb. + +"Prime!" exclaimed Spriggs, "and vith their leaves ve'll have an hunt +there.--Don't you hear the birds a crying 'sveet,' 'sveet?' Thof all +birds belong to the Temperance Society by natur', everybody knows as +they're partic'larly fond of a little s'rub!" + +"Think ve could leap the ditch?" said Mr. Richard, regarding with a +longing look the tall trees and the thick underwood. + +"Lauk! I'll over it in a jiffy," replied the elastic Mr. Spriggs there +ain't no obelisk a sportsman can't overcome"--and no sooner had be +uttered these encouraging words, than he made a spring, and came +'close-legged' upon the opposite bank; unfortunately, however, he lost +his balance, and fell plump upon a huge stinging nettle, which would have +been a treat to any donkey in the kingdom! + +"Oh!--cuss the thing!" shrieked Mr. Spriggs, losing his equanimity with +his equilibrium. + +"Don't be in a passion, Spriggs," said Grubb, laughing. + +"Me in a passion?--I'm not in a passion--I'm on'y--on'y--nettled!" +replied he, recovering his legs and his good humour. Mr. Grubb, taking +warning by his friend's slip, cautiously looked out for a narrower part +of the ditch, and executed the saltatory transit with all the agility of +a poodle. + +They soon penetrated the thicket, and a bird hopped so near them, that +they could not avoid hitting it.--Grubb fired, and Sprigg's gun echoed +the report. + +"Ve've done him!" cried Spriggs. + +"Ve!--me, if you please." + +"Vell--no matter," replied his chum, "you shot a bird, and I shot +too!--Vot's that?--my heye, I hear a voice a hollering like winkin; +--bolt!" + +Away scampered Spriggs, and off ran Grubb, never stopping till he reached +a high paling, which, hastily climbing, he found himself literally upon +tenter-hooks. + +"There's a man a coming, old fellow," said an urchin, grinning. + +"A man coming! vich vay? do tell me vich vay?" supplicated the sportsman. +The little rogue, however, only stuck his thumb against his snub +nose--winked, and ran off. + +But Mr. Grubb was not long held in suspense; a volley of inelegant +phrases saluted his ears, while the thong of a hunting-whip twisted +playfully about his leg. Finding the play unequal, he wisely gave up the +game--by dropping his bird on one side, and himself on the other; at the +same time reluctantly leaving a portion of his nether garment behind him. + +"Here you are!" cried his affectionate friend,--picking him up--"ain't +you cotch'd it finely?" + +"Ain't I, that's all?" said the almost breathless Mr. Grubb, "I'm almost +dead." + +"Dead!--nonsense--to be sure, you may say as how you're off the hooks! +and precious glad you ought to be." + +"Gracious me! Spriggs, don't joke; it might ha' bin werry serious," said +Mr. Grubb, with a most melancholy shake of the head:--"Do let's get out +o' this wile place." + +"Vy, vat the dickins!" exclaimed Spriggs, "you ain't sewed up yet, are +you?" + +"No," replied Grubb, forcing a smile in spite of himself, "I vish I vos, +Spriggs; for I 've got a terrible rent here!" delicately indicating the +position of the fracture. + +And hereupon the two friends resolving to make no further attempt at +bush-ranging, made as precipitate a retreat as the tangled nature of the +preserve permitted. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf! + + +"On'y think ven ve thought o' getting into a preserve--that ve got into a +pickle," said Sprigg, still chuckling over their last adventure. + +"Hush!" cried Grubb, laying his hand upon his arm--"see that bird hopping +there?" + +"Ve'll soon make him hop the twig, and no mistake," remarked Spriggs. + +"There he goes into the 'edge to get his dinner, I s'pose." + +"Looking for a 'edge-stake, I dare say," said the facetious Spriggs. + +"Now for it!" cried Grubb! "pitch into him!" and drawing his trigger he +accidentally knocked off the bird, while Spriggs discharged the contents +of his gun through the hedge. + +"Hit summat at last!" exclaimed the delighted Grubb, scampering towards +the thorny barrier, and clambering up, he peeped into an adjoining +garden. + +"Will you have the goodness to hand me that little bird I've just shot +off your 'edge," said he to a gardener, who was leaning on his spade and +holding his right leg in his hand. + +"You fool," cried the horticulturist, "you've done a precious job--You've +shot me right in the leg--O dear! O dear! how it pains!" + +"I'm werry sorry--take the bird for your pains," replied Grubb, and +apprehending another pig in a poke, he bobbed down and retreated as fast +as his legs could carry him. + +"Vot's frightened you?" demanded Spriggs, trotting off beside his chum, +"You ain't done nothing, have you?" + +"On'y shot a man, that's all." + +"The devil!" + +"It's true--and there'll be the devil to pay if ve're cotched, I can tell +you--'Vy the gardener vill swear as it's a reg'lar plant!--and there +von't be no damages at all, if so be he says he can't do no work, and is +obleeged to keep his bed--so mizzle!" With the imaginary noises of a hot +pursuit at their heels, they leaped hedge, ditch, and style without +daring to cast a look behind them--and it was not until they had put two +good miles of cultivated land between them and the spot of their +unfortunate exploit that they ventured to wheel about and breathe again. + +"Vell, if this 'ere ain't a rum go!"--said Spriggs--"in four shots--ve've +killed a pig--knocked the life out o' one dicky-bird--and put a whole +charge into a calf. Vy, if ve go on at this rate we shall certainly be +taken up and get a setting down in the twinkling of a bed-post!" + +"See if I haim at any think agin but vot's sitting on a rail or a post" +--said Mr. Richard--"or s'pose Spriggs you goes on von side of an 'edge +and me on t'other--and ve'll get the game between us--and then--" + +"Thankye for me, Dick," interrupted Spriggs, "but that'll be a sort o' +cross-fire that I sha'n't relish no how.--Vy it'll be just for all the +world like fighting a jewel--on'y ve shall exchange shots--p'r'aps +vithout any manner o' satisfaction to 'ither on' us. No--no--let's shoot +beside von another--for if ve're beside ourselves ve may commit suicide." + +"My vig!" cries Mr. Grubb, "there's a covey on 'em." + +"Vere?" + +"There!" + +"Charge 'em, my lad." + +"Stop! fust charge our pieces." + +Having performed this preliminary act, the sportsmen crouched in a dry +ditch and crawled stealthily along in order to approach the tempting +covey as near as possible. + +Up flew the birds, and with trembling hands they simultaneously touched +the triggers. + +"Ve've nicked some on 'em." + +"Dead as nits," said Spriggs. + +"Don't be in an hurry now," said the cautious Mr. Grubb, "ve don't know +for certain yet, vot ve hav'n't hit." + +"It can't be nothin' but a balloon then," replied Spriggs, "for ve on'y +fired in the hair I'll take my 'davy." + +Turning to the right and the left and observing nothing, they boldly +advanced in order to appropriate the spoil. + +"Here's feathers at any rate," said Spriggs, "ve've blown him to shivers, +by jingo!" + +"And here's a bird! hooray!" cried the delighted Grubb--"and look'ee, +here's another--two whole 'uns--and all them remnants going for nothing +as the linen-drapers has it!" + +"Vot are they, Dick?" inquired Spriggs, whose ornithological knowledge +was limited to domestic poultry; "sich voppers ain't robins or sparrers, +I take it." + +"Vy!" said the dubious Mr. Richard-resting on his gun and throwing one +leg negligently over the other--"I do think they're plovers, or larks, or +summat of that kind." + +"Vot's in a name; the thing ve call a duck by any other name vould heat +as vell!" declaimed Spriggs, parodying the immortal Shakspeare. + +"Talking o' heating, Spriggs--I'm rayther peckish--my stomick's bin +a-crying cupboard for a hour past.--Let's look hout for a hinn!" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +An extraordinary Occurrence--a Publican taking Orders. + + +Tying the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggs +proudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends. + +After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, what +they termed, an house of "hentertainment." + +Entering a parlour, with a clean, sanded floor, (prettily herring-boned, +as the housemaids technically phrase it,) furnished with red curtains, +half a dozen beech chairs, three cast-iron spittoons, and a beer-bleached +mahogany table,--Spriggs tugged at the bell. The host, with a rotund, +smiling face, his nose, like Bardolph's, blazing with fiery meteors, and +a short, white apron, concealing his unmentionables, quickly answered the +tintinabulary summons. + +"Landlord," said Spriggs, who had seated himself in a chair, while Mr. +Richard was adjusting his starched collar at the window;--"Landlord! ve +should like to have this 'ere game dressed." + +The Landlord eyed the 'game' through his spectacles, and smiled. + +"Roasted, or biled, Sir?" demanded he. + +"Biled?--no:--roasted, to be sure!" replied Spriggs, amazed at his +pretended obtuseness: "and, I say, landlord, you can let us have plenty +o' nice wedgetables." + +"Greens?" said the host;--but whether alluding to the verdant character +of his guests, or merely making a polite inquiry as to the article they +desired, it was impossible, from his tone and manner, to divine. + +"Greens!" echoed Spriggs, indignantly; "no:--peas and 'taters." + +"Directly, Sir," replied the landlord; and taking charge of the two +leetle birds, he departed, to prepare them for the table. + +"Vot a rum cove that 'ere is," said Grubb. + +"Double stout, eh?" said Spriggs, and then they both fell to a-laughing; +and certain it is, that, although the artist has only given us a draught +of the landlord, he was a subject sufficient for a butt! + +"Vell! I must, say," said Grubb, stretching his weary legs under the +mahogany, "I never did spend sich a pleasant day afore--never!" + +"Nor I," chimed in Spriggs, "and many a day ven I'm a chopping up the +'lump' shall I think on it. It's ralely bin a hout and houter! Lauk! +how Suke vill open her heyes, to be sure, ven I inform her how ve've bin +out with two real guns, and kill'd our own dinner. I'm bless'd if she'll +swallow it!" + +"I must say ve have seen a little life," said Grubb. + +"And death too," added Spriggs. "Vitness the pig!" + +"Now don't!" remonstrated Grubb, who was rather sore upon this part of +the morning's adventures. + +"And the gardener,"--persisted Spriggs. + +"Hush for goodness sake!" said Mr. Richard, very seriously, "for if that +'ere affair gets vind, ve shall be blown, and--" + +--In came the dinner. The display was admirable and very abundant, and +the keen air, added to the unusual exercise of the morning, had given the +young gentlemen a most voracious appetite. + +The birds were particularly sweet, but afforded little more than a +mouthful to each. + +The 'wedgetables,' however, with a due proportion of fine old Cheshire, +and bread at discretion, filled up the gaps. It was only marvellous +where two such slender striplings could find room to stow away such an +alarming quantity. + +How calm and pleasant was the 'dozy feel' that followed upon mastication, +as they opened their chests (and, if there ever was a necessity for such +an action, it was upon this occasion,) and lolling back in their chairs, +sipped the 'genuine malt and hops,' and picked their teeth! + +The talkative Spriggs became taciturn. His gallantry, however, did +prompt him, upon the production of a 'fresh pot,' to say, + +"Vell, Grubbs, my boy, here's the gals!" + +"The gals!" languidly echoed Mr. Richard, tossing off his tumbler, with a +most appropriate smack. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The Reckoning. + + +"Pull the bell, Spriggs," said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill." + +Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared. + +"Vot's to pay?" + +"Send you the bill directly, gentlemen," replied the landlord, bowing, +and trundling out of the room. + +The cook presently entered, and laying the bill at Mr. Grubb's elbow, +took off the remnants of the 'game,' and left the sportsmen to discuss +the little account. + +"My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his dilating +oculars over the slip. + +"Vy, vot's the damage?" enquired Spriggs. + +"Ten and fourpence." + +"Ten and fourpence!--never!" cried his incredulous companion. "Vot a +himposition." + +"Vell!" said Mr. Grubb, with a bitter emphasis, "if this is finding our +own wittles, we'll dine at the hor'nary next time"-- + +"Let's have a squint at it," said Mr. Spriggs, reaching across the table; +but all his squinting made the bill no less, and he laid it down with a +sigh. "It is coming it rayther strong, to be sure," continued he; "but I +dare say it's all our happearance has as done it. He takes us for people +o' consequence, and"-- + +"Vot consequence is that to us?" said Grubbs, doggedly. + +"Vell, never mind, Dick, it's on'y vonce a-year, as the grotto-boys +says--" + +"It need'nt to be; or I'll be shot if he mightn't vistle for the brads. +Howsomever, there's a hole in another suv'rin." + +"Ve shall get through it the sooner," replied the consoling Spriggs. "I +see, Grubb, there aint a bit of the Frenchman about you"-- + +"Vy, pray?" + +"Cos, you know, they're fond o' changing their suv'rins, and--you aint!" + +The pleasant humour of Spriggs soon infected Grubb, and he resolved to be +jolly, and keep up the fun, in spite of the exorbitant charge for the +vegetable addenda to their supply of game. + +"Come, don't look at the bill no more," advised Spriggs, but treat it as +old Villiams does his servants ven they displeases him." + +"How's that?" + +"Vy, discharge it, to be sure," replied he. + +This sage advice being promptly followed, the sportsmen, shouldering +their guns, departed in quest of amusement. They had not, however, +proceeded far on their way, before a heavy shower compelled them to take +shelter under a hedge. + +"Werry pleasant!" remarked Spriggs. + +"Keep your powder dry," said Grubb. + +"Leave me alone," replied Spriggs; "and I think as we'd better pop our +guns under our coat-tails too, for these ere cocks aint vater-cocks, you +know! Vell, I never seed sich a rain. I'm bless'd if it vont drive all +the dickey-birds to their nestes." + +"I vish I'd brought a numberella," said Grubbs. + +"Lank! vot a pretty fellow you are for a sportsman!" said Spriggs, "it +don't damp my hardour in the least. All veathers comes alike to me, as +the butcher said ven he vos a slaughtering the sheep!" + +Mr. Richard Grubb, here joined in the laugh of his good-humoured friend, +whose unwearied tongue kept him in spirits--rather mixed indeed than +neat--for the rain now poured down in a perfect torrent. + +"I say, Dick," said Spriggs, "vy are ve two like razors?" + +"Cos ve're good-tempered?" + +"Werry good; but that aint it exactly--cos ve're two bright blades, vot +has got a beautiful edge!" + +"A hexcellent conundrum," exclaimed Grubb. "Vere do you get 'em?' + +"All made out of my own head,--as the boy said ven be showed the wooden +top-spoon to his father!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +A sudden Explosion--a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the other takes +amiss. + + +A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, +took up the rain! + +The two crouching friends taking advantage of the cessation in the storm, +prepared to start. But in straightening the acute angles of their legs +and arms, Mr. Sprigg's piece, by some entanglement in his protecting +garb, went off, and the barrel striking Mr. Grubb upon the os nasi, +stretched him bawling on the humid turf. + +"O! Lord! I'm shot." + +"O! my heye!" exclaimed the trembling Spriggs. + +"O! my nose!" roared Grubb. + +"Here's a go!" + +"It's no go!--I'm a dead man!" blubbered Mr. Richard. Mr. Augustus +Spriggs now raised his chum upon his legs, and was certainly rather +alarmed at the sanguinary effusion. + +"Vere's your hankercher?--here!--take mine,--that's it--there!--let's +look at it." + +"Can you see it?" said Grubb, mournfully twisting about his face most +ludicrously, and trying at the same time to level his optics towards the +damaged gnomon. + +"Yes!" + +"I can't feel it," said Grubb; "it's numbed like dead." + +"My gun vent off quite by haccident, and if your nose is spoilt, can't +you have a vax von?--Come, it ain't so bad!" + +"A vax von, indeed!--who vouldn't rather have his own nose than all the +vax vons in the vorld?" replied poor Richard. "I shall never be able to +show my face." + +"Vy not?--your face ain't touched, it's on'y your nose!" + +"See, if I come out agin in an hurry," continued the wounded sportsman. +"I've paid precious dear for a day's fun. The birds vill die a nat'ral +death for me, I can tell you." + +"It vos a terrible blow--certainly," said Spriggs; "but these things +vill happen in the best riggle'ated families!" + +"How can that be? there's no piece, in no quiet and respectable families +as I ever seed!" + +And with this very paradoxical dictum, Mr. Grubb trudged on, leading +himself by the nose; Spriggs exerting all his eloquence to make him think +lightly of what Grubb considered such a heavy affliction; for after all, +although he had received a terrible contusion, there were no bones +broken: of which Spriggs assured his friend and himself with a great deal +of feeling! + +Luckily the shades of evening concealed them from the too scrutinizing +observation of the passengers they encountered on their return, for such +accidents generally excite more ridicule than commiseration. + +Spriggs having volunteered his services, saw Grubb safe home to his door +in Tower Street, and placing the two guns in his hands, bade him a +cordial farewell, promising to call and see after his nose on the morrow. + +The following parody of a customary paragraph in the papers will be +considered, we think, a most fitting conclusion to their day's sport. + +"In consequence of a letter addressed to Mr. Augustus Spriggs, by Mr. +Richard Grubb, the parties met early yesterday morning, but after firing +several shots, we are sorry to state that they parted without coming to +any satisfactory conclusion." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Part 1., by Robert Seymour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + +***** This file should be named 5645.txt or 5645.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/4/5645/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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