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margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + --> +</style> + </head> + <body> + <h1> + SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR + </h1> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, 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.net + + +Title: The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), Complete + +Author: Robert Seymour + +Release Date: October 29, 2006 [EBook #5650] +Last Updated: October 12, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div class="mynote"> + <i><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/5650/old/orig5650-h/main.htm"> + LINK TO THE ORIGINAL HTML FILE: This Ebook Has Been Reformatted For Better + Appearance In Mobile Viewers Such As Kindles And Others. The Original + Format, Which The Editor Believes Has A More Attractive Appearance For + Laptops And Other Computers, May Be Viewed By Clicking On This Box.</a></i> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> <a name="Bookcover" id="Bookcover"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="Spine_angled" id="Spine_angled"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="Titlepage" id="Titlepage"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Titlepage.jpg (43K)" src="images/Titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="Title2" id="Title2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Title2.jpg (94K)" src="images/Title2.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br /><br /> "Sketches by Seymour" was + published in various versions about 1836. The copy used for this PG + edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. Some of the + 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by H. + Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a + compilation of five smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles + the reader may well suspect the printer mixed up the order of the + chapters. The complete book in this digital edition is split into five + smaller volumes—the individual volumes are of more manageable size + than the 7mb complete version.<br /><br /> The importance of this + collection is in the engravings. The text is often mundane, is full of + conundrums and puns 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.<br /><br /> + DW<br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS: + </h2> + <h3> + EVERYDAY SCENES. + </h3> + <p> + SCENE I. <a href="#Scene1">Sleeping Fisherman.</a><br /><br /> SCENE II. <a + href="#Scene2">A lark—early in the morning.</a><br /><br /> SCENE III. + <a href="#Scene3">The rapid march of Intellect!</a><br /><br /> SCENE IV. <a + href="#Scene4">Sally, I told my missus vot you said.</a><br /><br /> SCENE + V. <a href="#Scene5">How does it fit behind?</a><br /><br /> SCENE VI. <a + href="#Scene6">Catching-a cold.</a><br /><br /> SCENE VII. <a href="#Scene7">This + is vot you calls rowing, is it?</a><br /><br /> SCENE VIII. + <a href="#Scene8">In for it, or Trying the middle.</a><br /><br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + A DAY'S SPORT. + </h3> + <p> + CHAP. I. <a href="#Chap1">The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. II. <a href="#Chap2">The Death of a little Pig</a><br /><br /> CHAP. + III. <a href="#Chap3">The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. IV. <a href="#Chap4">Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. V. <a href="#Chap5">A Publican taking Orders.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. + VI. <a href="#Chap6">The Reckoning.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. VII. + <a href="#Chap7">A sudden Explosion</a><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + OTHER SCENES. + </h3> + <p> + SCENE IX. <a href="#Scene9">Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman</a><br /><br /> + SCENE X. <a href="#Scene10">I begin to think I may as well go back.</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XI. <a href="#Scene11">Mother says fishes comes from hard roes</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XII. <a href="#Scene12">Ambition.</a><br /><br /> SCENE XIII. <a + href="#Scene13">Better luck next time.</a><br /><br /> SCENE XIV. <a + href="#Scene14">Don't you be saucy, Boys.</a><br /><br /> SCENE XV. <a + href="#Scene15">Vy, Sarah, you're drunk!</a><br /><br /> SCENE XVI. <a + href="#Scene16">Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong!</a><br /><br /> SCENE XVII. + <a href="#Scene17">I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em.</a><br /><br /> SCENE + XVIII. <a href="#Scene18">Have you read the leader in this paper</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XIX. <a href="#Scene19">An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq.</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XX. <a href="#Scene20">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XXI. <a href="#Scene21">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.(Continued)</a><br /><br /> + SCENE XXII. <a href="#Scene22">The Itinerant Musician.</a><br /><br /> SCENE + XXIII. <a href="#Scene23">The Confessions of a Sportsman.</a><br /><br /> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + MISCELLANEOUS. + </h3> + <p> + PLATE I. <a href="#Odd1_Jolly_Anglers">THE JOLLY ANGLERS.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE II. <a href="#Odd2_Bill_Sticker">THE BILL-STICKER.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE III. <a href="#Odd3_Old_Foozel">OLD FOOZLE.</a><br /><br /> PLATE IV. + <a href="#Odd4_Crack_Shots_1">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE V. <a href="#Odd5_Crack_Shots_2">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE VI. <a href="#Odd6_Crack_Shots_3">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. III.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE VII. <a href="#Odd7_Doctor_Spraggs">DOCTOR SPRAGGS.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE VIII. <a href="#Odd8_Scene9b">[SCENE IX.(b)] Well, Bill, + d'ye get any bites?</a><br /><br /> PLATE IX. <a href="#Odd9_Pouter">THE + POUTER AND THE DRAGON.</a><br /><br /> PLATE X. <a href="#Odd10_Picnic1">THE + PIC-NIC. No. I.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XI. <a href="#Odd11_Picnic2">THE + PIC-NIC. No. II.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XII. <a href="#Odd12_Bumpkin">THE + BUMPKIN.</a><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> TITLE PAGE II. + VOLUME II.<br /><br /> PLATE XIII. <a + href="#Odd13_Watty_Williams">[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]</a><br /><br /> PLATE + XIV. <a href="#Odd14_Delicacy">DELICACY!</a><br /><br /> PLATE XV. <a + href="#Odd1_Now_Jem">Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row</a><br /><br /> + PLATE XVI. <a href="#Odd16_Steaming">STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE XVII. <a href="#Odd17_Peter_1">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. + I.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XVIII. <a href="#Odd18_Peter_2">PETER SIMPLE'S + FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XIX. <a href="#Odd19_Dobbs">DOBBS'S + "DUCK."—A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XX. <a + href="#Odd20_Strawberries">STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.</a><br /><br /> PLATE + XXI. <a href="#Odd21_Pleasure_1">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.—THE + JOURNEY OUT.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXII. <a href="#Odd22_Pleasure_2">A DAY'S + PLEASURE. No. II.—THE JOURNEY HOME.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXIII. <a + href="#Odd2_Hammering">[HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream </a><br /><br /> + PLATE XXIV. <a href="#Odd24_Practice">PRACTICE.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXV. + <a href="#Odd25_Precept">PRECEPT.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXVI. <a + href="#Odd26_Example">EXAMPLE.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXVII. <a + href="#Odd27_Musical">A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXVIII. <a + href="#Odd28_Eating_House">THE EATING HOUSE.</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXIX. <a + href="#Scene_10b_Lonely_Spot">[SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, + Sir</a><br /><br /> PLATE XXX. <a href="#Odd29_Gone">GONE!</a><br /><br /> + PLATE XXXI. <a href="#Odd30_Joker_1">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE XXXII. <a href="#Odd31_Joker_2">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II.</a><br /><br /> + PLATE XXXIII. <a href="#Odd32_Whiting">FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.</a><br /><br /> + ANDREW MULLINS. —AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. CHAP. I. <a href="#Mullins1">Introductory + </a><br /><br /> CHAP. II. <a href="#Mullins1">Let the neighbors smell ve + has something</a><br /><br /> CHAP. III. <a href="#Mullins3">I wou'dn't like + to shoot her exactly</a><br /><br /> CHAP. IV. <a href="#Mullins4">A + Situation.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. V. <a href="#Mullins5">The Stalking Horse.</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. VI. <a href="#Mullins6">A Commission.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. VII. <a + href="#Mullins7">The Cricket Match</a><br /><br /> CHAP. VIII. <a + href="#Mullins8">The Hunter.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. IX. <a href="#Mullins9">A + Row to Blackwall.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. X. <a href="#Mullins10">The Pic-Nic.</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. XI. <a href="#Mullins11">The Journey Home.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. XII. + <a href="#Mullins12">Monsieur Dubois.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. XIII. <a + href="#Mullins13">My Talent Called into Active Service.</a><br /><br /> + CHAP. XIV. <a href="#Mullins14">A Dilemma.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. XV. <a + href="#Mullins15">An Old Acquaintance.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. XVI. <a + href="#Mullins16">The Loss of a Friend.</a><br /><br /> CHAP. XVII. <a + href="#Mullins17">Promotion.</a><br /><br /> A RIGMAROLE. PART I. <a + href="#Rigmarole1">"De omnibus rebus."</a><br /><br /> PART II. <a + href="#Rigmarole2">"Acti labores Sunt jucundi"</a><br /><br /> PART III. <a + href="#Rigmarole3">"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</a><br /><br /> + INTERCEPTED LETTER PLATE I. <a href="#Intercepted_Letter1">Dye think ve + shall be in time for the hunt?</a><br /><br /> PLATE II. <a + href="#Intercepted_Letter2">Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay!</a><br /><br /> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + EVERYDAY SCENES. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <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."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene1" id="Scene1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene1.jpg (97K)" src="images/Scene1.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + My pockets, too, are picked! Yes—some clever 'artist' has drawn me + while asleep! + </p> + <p> + 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.' + </p> + <p> + 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!' + </p> + <p> + Slush! slush!—Squash! squash! + </p> + <p> + 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! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>A lark—early in the morning.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene2" id="Scene2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene2.jpg (63K)" src="images/Scene2.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Surely I heard the notes of a bird," cried one, looking up and down the + street; "there it is again, by jingo!" + </p> + <p> + "It's a lark, I declare," asserted his brother sportsman. + </p> + <p> + "Lark or canary, it will be a lark if we can bring it down," replied his + companion. + </p> + <p> + "Yonder it is, in that ere cage agin the wall." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Miserable! I was once in a cage myself," said his chum. + </p> + <p> + "And what did they take you for?" + </p> + <p> + "Take me for?—for a 'lark.'" + </p> + <p> + "Pretty Dickey!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I assure you, it was all 'dickey' with me." + </p> + <p> + "And did you sing?" + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Excellent." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Bolt!" cried the freedom-giving youth, "or we shall have to pay for the + lark." + </p> + <p> + "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." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE III. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"You shall have the paper directly, Sir, but really the debates are + so very interesting."</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"Oh! pray don't hurry, Sir, it's only the scientific notices I care + about."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene3" id="Scene3"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene3.jpg (62K)" src="images/Scene3.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.' + </p> + <p> + But the dustman may be said, 'par excellence,' to bear—the bell! + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + They talk of 'Peel,' and 'Hume,' and 'Stanley,' and bandy about their + names as familiarly as if they were their particular acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + "What a dust the Irish Member kicked up in the House last night," remarks + one. + </p> + <p> + "His speech was a heap o' rubbish," replied the other. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "And so am I, for my Sal says as how it's so genteel!" + </p> + <p> + "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—" + </p> + <p> + "What's the liberty of the press?" + </p> + <p> + "Why calling people what thinks different from 'em all sorts o' names—arn't + that a liberty?" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, to be sure!—but it's time to cut—so down with the dust—and + let's bolt!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE IV. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Oh! Sally, I told my missus vot you said your missus said about + her."—<br /><br /> "Oh! and so did I, Betty; I told my missus vot + you said yourn said of her, and ve had sich a row!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene4" id="Scene4"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene4.jpg (61K)" src="images/Scene4.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + SALLY. Vell! I could'nt stand that!—If I was you, I'd soon give her + warning. + </p> + <p> + 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! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE V. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders—we'll + never trouble the tailors again, I promise them."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene5" id="Scene5"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene5.jpg (56K)" src="images/Scene5.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + And proud ought that man to be of such a wife; for never was mortal + 'suited' so before! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE VI. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Catching—a cold."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene6" id="Scene6"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene6.jpg (78K)" src="images/Scene6.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + WHAT a type of true philosophy and courage is this Waltonian! + </p> + <p> + Cool and unmoved he receives the sharp blows of the blustering wind—as + if he were playing dummy to an experienced pugilist. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + Bent and sharp as his own hook, he watches his smooth float in the rough, + but finds, alas! that it dances to no tune. + </p> + <p> + 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! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE VII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"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."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene7" id="Scene7"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene7.jpg (73K)" src="images/Scene7.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "MISTER Vaterman, vot's your fare for taking me across?" + </p> + <p> + "Across, young 'ooman? vy, you looks so good-tempered, I'll pull you over + for sixpence?" + </p> + <p> + "Are them seats clean?" + </p> + <p> + "O! ker-vite:—I've just swabb'd 'em down." + </p> + <p> + "And werry comfortable that'll be! vy, it'll vet my best silk?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Fellow!" + </p> + <p> + "The arm of my jacket I mean; there's no harm in that, you know." + </p> + <p> + "Is it quite safe? How the wind blows!" + </p> + <p> + "Lord! how timorsome you be! vy, the vind never did nothin' else since I + know'd it." + </p> + <p> + "O! O! how it tumbles! dearee me!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is it werry deep?" + </p> + <p> + "Deep as a lawyer." + </p> + <p> + "O! I really feel all over"— + </p> + <p> + "And, by Gog, you'll be all over presently—don't lay your hand on my + scull!" + </p> + <p> + "You villin, I never so much as touched your scull. You put me up." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "O! you partic'lar fool!" exclaimed the waterman. "Ay, hold on a-stern, + and the devil take the hindmost, say I!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE VIII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>In for it, or Trying the middle.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene8" id="Scene8"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene8.jpg (89K)" src="images/Scene8.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + 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.' + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A DAY'S SPORT + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + "Arena virumque cano." + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Invitation—the Outfit—and the sallying forth.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap1" id="Chap1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap1.jpg (53K)" src="images/Chap1.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + TO Mr. AUGUSTUS SPRIGGS, + </p> + <p> + AT Mr. WILLIAMS'S, GROCER, ADDLE STREET. + </p> + <p> + (Tower Street, 31st August, 18__) + </p> + <p> + My dear Chum, + </p> + <p> + 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 + </p> + <p> + "Together we will range the fields;" + </p> + <p> + and if we don't have some prime sport, my name's not Dick, that's all. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Mind, I won't take no refusal—so pitch it strong to the old 'un, and + carry your resolution nem. con. + </p> + <p> + And believe me to be, your old Crony, + </p> + <p> + RICHARD GRUBB. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "I dessay—" + </p> + <p> + "Do you hang out at Highgate?" continued the sportsman. + </p> + <p> + "Hang out?" + </p> + <p> + "Ay, are you a hinhabitant?" + </p> + <p> + "To be sure I am." + </p> + <p> + "Is there any birds thereabouts?" + </p> + <p> + "Plenty o' geese," sharply replied the old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + "Ha! ha! werry good!—but I means game;—partridges and them + sort o' birds." + </p> + <p> + "I never see any except what I've brought down." + </p> + <p> + "I on'y vish I may bring down all I see, that's all," chuckled the joyous + Mr. Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't at all like that 'ere gun." + </p> + <p> + "Lor! bless you, how timorsome you are, 'tain't loaded." + </p> + <p> + "Loaded or not loaded, it's werry unpleasant to ride with that gun o' + yours looking into one's ear so." + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "Vere's my instrument o' destruction?" enquired the lively Augustus, when + he had succeeded in mounting to his seat. + </p> + <p> + "Stow'd him in the boot!" + </p> + <p> + The coachman mounted and drove off; the sportsmen chatting and laughing as + they passed through 'merry Islington.' + </p> + <p> + "Von't ve keep the game alive!" exclaimed Spriggs, slapping his friend + upon the back. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + Arrived at Highgate, the old gentleman, with a step-fatherly anxiety, bade + them take care of the 'spring-guns' in their perambulations. + </p> + <p> + "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!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Death of a little Pig, which proves a great Bore!</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap2" id="Chap2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap2.jpg (74K)" src="images/Chap2.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + Having charged, they shouldered their pieces and waded through the tall + grass. + </p> + <p> + "O! crikey!—there's a heap o' birds," exclaimed Spriggs, looking up + at a flight of alarmed sparrows. "Shall I bring 'em down?" + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + Bang! bang! went the two guns, and a piercing squeak followed the report. + </p> + <p> + "Ve've tickled him," exclaimed Spriggs, as they ran to pick up the spoil. + </p> + <p> + "Ve've pickled him, rayther," cried Grubbs, "for by gosh it's a piggy!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Now my fine fellow," cried he, brandishing his staff, "you 'ither pays + for that 'ere pig, or ve'll fix you in the cage." + </p> + <p> + 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.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Stubbs, the owner, stepped forward, and valued it at eighteen + shillings. + </p> + <p> + "Vot! eighteen shillings for that 'ere little pig!" exclaimed the + astounded sportsman. "Vy I could buy it in town for seven any day." + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + Shouldering his gun, he joined his companion in arms, amid the jibes and + jeers of the grinning rustics. + </p> + <p> + "Vell, I'm blowed if that ain't a cooler!" said he. + </p> + <p> + "Never mind, ve've made a hit at any rate," said the consoling Spriggs, + "and ve've tried our metal." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, it's tried my metal preciously—changed a suv'rin to two bob! + by jingo!" + </p> + <p> + "Let's turn Jews," said Spriggs, "and make a vow never to touch pork + again!" + </p> + <p> + "Vot's the use o' that?" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure—Grubb gets on a paling + and runs a risk of being impaled.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap3" id="Chap3"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap3.jpg (74K)" src="images/Chap3.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "Twig them trees?"—said Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "Think ve could leap the ditch?" said Mr. Richard, regarding with a + longing look the tall trees and the thick underwood. + </p> + <p> + "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 he + 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! + </p> + <p> + "Oh!—cuss the thing!" shrieked Mr. Spriggs, losing his equanimity + with his equilibrium. + </p> + <p> + "Don't be in a passion, Spriggs," said Grubb, laughing. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Ve've done him!" cried Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "Ve!—me, if you please." + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "There's a man a coming, old fellow," said an urchin, grinning. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Here you are!" cried his affectionate friend,—picking him up—"ain't + you cotch'd it finely?" + </p> + <p> + "Ain't I, that's all?" said the almost breathless Mr. Grubb, "I'm almost + dead." + </p> + <p> + "Dead!—nonsense—to be sure, you may say as how you're off the + hooks! and precious glad you ought to be." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Vy, vat the dickins!" exclaimed Spriggs, "you ain't sewed up yet, are + you?" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap4" id="Chap4"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap4.jpg (70K)" src="images/Chap4.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Hush!" cried Grubb, laying his hand upon his arm—"see that bird + hopping there?" + </p> + <p> + "Ve'll soon make him hop the twig, and no mistake," remarked Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "There he goes into the 'edge to get his dinner, I s'pose." + </p> + <p> + "Looking for a 'edge-stake, I dare say," said the facetious Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Hit summat at last!" exclaimed the delighted Grubb, scampering towards + the thorny barrier, and clambering up, he peeped into an adjoining garden. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Vot's frightened you?" demanded Spriggs, trotting off beside his chum, + "You ain't done nothing, have you?" + </p> + <p> + "On'y shot a man, that's all." + </p> + <p> + "The devil!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "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—" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "My vig!" cries Mr. Grubb, "there's a covey on 'em." + </p> + <p> + "Vere?" + </p> + <p> + "There!" + </p> + <p> + "Charge 'em, my lad." + </p> + <p> + "Stop! fust charge our pieces." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Up flew the birds, and with trembling hands they simultaneously touched + the triggers. + </p> + <p> + "Ve've nicked some on 'em." + </p> + <p> + "Dead as nits," said Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It can't be nothin' but a balloon then," replied Spriggs, "for ve on'y + fired in the hair I'll take my 'davy." + </p> + <p> + Turning to the right and the left and observing nothing, they boldly + advanced in order to appropriate the spoil. + </p> + <p> + "Here's feathers at any rate," said Spriggs, "ve've blown him to shivers, + by jingo!" + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "Vot are they, Dick?" inquired Spriggs, whose ornithological knowledge was + limited to domestic poultry; "sich voppers ain't robins or sparrers, I + take it." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>An extraordinary Occurrence—a Publican taking Orders.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap5" id="Chap5"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap5.jpg (80K)" src="images/Chap5.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + TYING the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggs + proudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends. + </p> + <p> + After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, what + they termed, an house of "hentertainment." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + The Landlord eyed the 'game' through his spectacles, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + "Roasted, or biled, Sir?" demanded he. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Greens!" echoed Spriggs, indignantly; "no:—peas and 'taters." + </p> + <p> + "Directly, Sir," replied the landlord; and taking charge of the two leetle + birds, he departed, to prepare them for the table. + </p> + <p> + "Vot a rum cove that 'ere is," said Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "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! + </p> + <p> + "Vell! I must, say," said Grubb, stretching his weary legs under the + mahogany, "I never did spend sich a pleasant day afore—never!" + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "I must say ve have seen a little life," said Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "And death too," added Spriggs. "Vitness the pig!" + </p> + <p> + "Now don't!" remonstrated Grubb, who was rather sore upon this part of the + morning's adventures. + </p> + <p> + "And the gardener,"—persisted Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "Hush for goodness sake!" said Mr. Richard, very seriously, "for if that + 'ere affair gets vind, ve shall be blown, and—" + </p> + <p> + —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. + </p> + <p> + The birds were particularly sweet, but afforded little more than a + mouthful to each. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + The talkative Spriggs became taciturn. His gallantry, however, did prompt + him, upon the production of a 'fresh pot,' to say, + </p> + <p> + "Vell, Grubbs, my boy, here's the gals!" + </p> + <p> + "The gals!" languidly echoed Mr. Richard, tossing off his tumbler, with a + most appropriate smack. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Reckoning.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap6" id="Chap6"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap6.jpg (85K)" src="images/Chap6.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "PULL the bell, Spriggs," said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared. + </p> + <p> + "Vot's to pay?" + </p> + <p> + "Send you the bill directly, gentlemen," replied the landlord, bowing, and + trundling out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his dilating + oculars over the slip. + </p> + <p> + "Vy, vot's the damage?" enquired Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "Ten and fourpence." + </p> + <p> + "Ten and fourpence!—never!" cried his incredulous companion. "Vot a + himposition." + </p> + <p> + "Vell!" said Mr. Grubb, with a bitter emphasis, "if this is finding our + own wittles, we'll dine at the hor'nary next time"— + </p> + <p> + "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"— + </p> + <p> + "Vot consequence is that to us?" said Grubbs, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + "Vell, never mind, Dick, it's on'y vonce a-year, as the grotto-boys says—" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Ve shall get through it the sooner," replied the consoling Spriggs. "I + see, Grubb, there aint a bit of the Frenchman about you"— + </p> + <p> + "Vy, pray?" + </p> + <p> + "Cos, you know, they're fond o' changing their suv'rins, and—you + aint!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Come, don't look at the bill no more," advised Spriggs, "but treat it as + old Villiams does his servants ven they displeases him." + </p> + <p> + "How's that?" + </p> + <p> + "Vy, discharge it, to be sure," replied he. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Werry pleasant!" remarked Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "Keep your powder dry," said Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I vish I'd brought a numberella," said Grubbs. + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I say, Dick," said Spriggs, "vy are ve two like razors?" + </p> + <p> + "Cos ve're good-tempered?" + </p> + <p> + "Werry good; but that aint it exactly—cos ve're two bright blades, + vot has got a beautiful edge!" + </p> + <p> + "A hexcellent conundrum," exclaimed Grubb. "Vere do you get 'em?' + </p> + <p> + "All made out of my own head,—as the boy said ven be showed the + wooden top-spoon to his father!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>A sudden Explosion—a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the + other takes amiss.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Chap7" id="Chap7"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Chap7.jpg (78K)" src="images/Chap7.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, + took up the rain! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "O! Lord! I'm shot." + </p> + <p> + "O! my heye!" exclaimed the trembling Spriggs. + </p> + <p> + "O! my nose!" roared Grubb. + </p> + <p> + "Here's a go!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Vere's your hankercher?—here!—take mine,—that's it—there!—let's + look at it." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Yes!" + </p> + <p> + "I can't feel it," said Grubb; "it's numbed like dead." + </p> + <p> + "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!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Vy not?—your face ain't touched, it's on'y your nose!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It vos a terrible blow—certainly," said Spriggs; "but these things + vill happen in the best riggle'ated families!" + </p> + <p> + "How can that be? there's no piece, in no quiet and respectable families + as I ever seed!" + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The following parody of a customary paragraph in the papers will be + considered, we think, a most fitting conclusion to their day's sport. + </p> + <p> + "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." <br /><br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + OTHER SCENES + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE IX. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman—she can't get over + the wall to us."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene9" id="Scene9"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene9.jpg (70K)" src="images/Scene9.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> One day two urchins got <br />A pistol, powder, horn, + and shot, <br />And proudly forth they went <br />On sport intent. <br />"Oh, + Tom! if we should shoot a hare," <br />Cried one, <br />The elder son, <br />"How + father, sure, would stare!" <br />"Look there! what's that?" <br />"Why, as + I live, a cat," <br />Cried Bill, "'tis mother Tibbs' tabby; <br />Oh! what + a lark <br />She loves it like a babby! <br />And ain't a cat's eye, Tom, as + good a mark <br />As any bull's eyes?" <br />And straight "Puss! puss!" he + cries, <br />When, lo! as Puss approaches, <br />They hear a squall, <br />And + see a head and fist above the wall. <br />'Tis tabby's mistress <br />Who in + great distress <br />Loads both the urchins with her loud reproaches, <br />"You + little villains! will ye shoot my cat? <br />Here, Tink! Tink! Tink! <br />O! + lor' a' mercy! I shall surely sink, <br />Tink! Tink!" <br />Tink hears her + voice—and hearing that, <br />Trots nearer with a pit-a-pat! <br />"Now, + Bill, present and fire, <br />There's a bold 'un, <br />And send the tabby + to the old 'un." <br />Bang! went the pistol, and in the mire <br />Rolled + Tink without a mew— <br />Flop! fell his mistress in a stew! <br />While + Bill and Tom both fled, <br />Leaving the accomplish'd Tink quite finish'd, + <br />For Bill had actually diminish'd <br />The feline favorite by a head! + <br />Leaving his undone mistress to bewail, <br />In deepest woe, <br />And + to her gossips to relate <br />Her tabby's fate. <br />This was her only + consolation—for altho' <br />She could not tell the head—she + could the tail! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE X. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>SEPTEMBER 1ST,—AN ONLY OPPORTUNITY.</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"I begin to think I may as well go back."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene10" id="Scene10"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene10.jpg (76K)" src="images/Scene10.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> MY vig! vat a pelter this is— <br />Enough all + my hardour to tame; <br />In veather like this there's no sport, <br />It's + too much in earnest for game! <br /> + </p> + <p> + A ladle, I might as well be, <br />Chain'd fast to a hold parish pump, + <br />For, by goles! it comes tumbling down, <br />Like vinking,—and + all of a lump. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The birds to their nestes is gone, <br />I can't see no woodcock, nor + snipe; <br />My dog he looks dogged and dull, <br />My leggins is flabby as + tripe! <br /> + </p> + <p> + The moors is all slipp'ry slush, <br />I'm up to the neck in the mire; + <br />I don't see no chance of a shot, <br />And I long-how I long for a + fire! <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + For my clothes is all soak'd, and they stick <br />As close as a bailiff to + me <br />Oh! I wish I was out o' this here, <br />And at home with my mother + at tea! <br /> + </p> + <p> + This is the fust, as I've got <br />Permission from uncle to shoot; <br />He + hadn't no peace till he give <br />This piece, and the powder to boot! + <br /> + </p> + <p> + And vat's it all come to at last?— <br />There isn't no chance of a + hit, <br />I feel the rain's all down my back, <br />In my mouth though I + hav'n't a bit! <br /> + </p> + <p> + O! it's werry wezaatious indeed! <br />For I shan't have another day soon; + <br />But I'm blow'd, if I don't have a pop— <br />My eye! I've shot + Dash! vot a spoon! <br /> + </p> + <p> + O! here's a partic'lar mess, <br />Vot vill mother say to me now? <br />For + he vas her lap-dog and pet, <br />Oh! I've slaughtered her darling bow-wow! + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XI. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Mother says fishes comes from hard roes, so I chuck'd in the roe of + a red-herring last week, but I doesn't catch any fish yet."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene11" id="Scene11"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene11.jpg (70K)" src="images/Scene11.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + How beautiful is the simplicity of unsophisticated youth! Behold with what + patience this innocent awaits a bite, trusting with perfect faith in the + truth of his affectionate mother's ichthyological knowledge. Wishing to + behold a live fish dangling at the end of his line, he has, with admirable + foresight, drawn up the bucket, that in the ascent the finny prey may not + kick it! It must be a hard roe indeed, that is not softened by his + attentions; but, alas! he is doomed never to draw up a vulgar herring, or + a well-bred fish! + </p> + <p> + Folks who are a little deeper read than the boy—(or the herring!)—may + smile at his fruitless attempt, but how many are there that act through + life upon the same principle, casting their lines and fishing for—compliments, + who never obtain even a nibble—for why? their attempts at applause, + like his red-herring, are smoked. He does not know that herrings are + salt-water fish—and, in fact, that the well-water is not the roes—water! + </p> + <p> + But after all, is not such ignorance bliss?—for he enjoys the + anticipated pleasure; and if anticipation be really greater than reality—what + an interminable length will that pleasure be to him! Ever and anon he + draws up his line, like a militia captain for a review;—puts fresh + bait on the crooked pin, and lets it slowly down, and peeps in, wondering + what the fish can be at!—and is quite as much in the dark as his + float. But he may at last, perhaps, discover that he is not so deep as a + well—and wisely resolve to let well—alone; two points which + may probably be of infinite importance to him through life, and enable him + to turn the laugh against those who now mock his ignorance and simplicity. + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>Ambition. </i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"He was ambitious, and I slew him."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene12" id="Scene12"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene12.jpg (54K)" src="images/Scene12.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + WHAT carried Captain Ross to the North Pole? "A ship to be sure!" exclaims + some matter-of-fact gentleman. Reader! It was AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What made barber Ross survey the poll, make wigs, and puff away even when + powder was exploded? What caused him to seek the applause of the 'nobs' + among the cockneys, and struggle to obtain the paradoxical triplicate + dictum that he was a werry first-rate cutter!' What made him a practical + Tory? (for he boasts of turning out the best wigs in the country!) + </p> + <p> + What induces men to turn theatrical managers when a beggarly account of + empty boxes nightly proves the Drama is at a discount—all benefits + visionary, and the price of admission is regarded as a tax, and the + performers as ex-actors!—when they get scarcely enough to pay for + lights, and yet burn their fingers?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + The candidate for the county cringes, and flatters the greasy unwashed + ten-pounders, in order to get at the head of the poll—so likewise + the bumpkin (in imitation of his superior) rubs his hand in the dirt to + enable him to cling fast, and reach the top of the soap'd poll, whereon + the tempting prize is displayed. And, what prompts them both to the + contest?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What is the 'primum mobile,' of the adventurous Aeronaut, Mr. Green, one + of the most rising men of the day, who aspires even unto the very clouds, + and in his elevation looks upon all men of woman born as far beneath him?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What prompts the soldier who spends half-a-crown out of sixpence a-day to + thrust his head into the cannon's mouth, to convince the world that he is + desirous of obtaining a good report and that he is fearless of the charge?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What makes the beardless school-boy leap ditches and over posts at the + risk of his neck, and boast that he'll do another's dags'—or the + sporting man turn good horses into filthy dog's meat, in riding so many + miles in so many minutes?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What magic influence operates upon the senses of the barrister (a scholar + and a gentleman) to exert his winning eloquence and ingenuity in the cause + of a client, who, in his conscience, he knows to be both morally and + legally unworthy of the luminous defence put forth to prove the trembling + culprit more sinned against than sinning?—AMBITION! + </p> + <p> + What urges the vulgar costermonger to bestride his long-ear'd Arabian, and + belabor his panting sides with merciless stick and iron-shod heels to + impel him to the goal in the mimic race—or the sleek and polish'd + courtier to lick the dust of his superiors' feet to obtain a paltry riband + or a star?—AMBITION! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XIII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>Better luck next time.</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>The lamentation of Joe Grishin.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene13" id="Scene13"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene13.jpg (64K)" src="images/Scene13.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "O! Molly! Molly! ven I popp'd my chops through the arey railings, and + seed you smile, I thought you vos mine for ever! I wentur'd all for you—all—. + It war'n't no great stake p'r'aps, but it was a tender vun! I offer'd you + a heart verbally, and you said 'No!' I writ this ere wollentine, and you + returns it vith a big 'No!' + </p> + <p> + "O! Molly your 'No's,' is more piercinger and crueller than your heyes. + Me! to be used so:—Me! as refused the vidder at the Coal Shed! (to + be sure she wore a vig and I didn't vant a bald rib!) Me!—but it's + o' no use talking; von may as vell make love to a lamp-post, and expect to + feed von's flame vith lights! But adoo to life; this 'ere rope, fix'd + round the 'best end o' the neck' will soon scrap me, and ven I'm as dead + as mutton, p'r'aps you may be werry sorry. + </p> + <p> + "It'll be too late then, Molly, ven you've led me to the halter, to vish + as you'd married me." + </p> + <p> + After this bitter burst of wounded feeling, and, urged by the rejection of + his addresses, the love-lorn Butcher mounted a joint-stool, and stepping + on a fence, twisted the awful rope round the branch of a tree, and then, + coiling it about his neck, determined that this day should be a killing + day; vainly supposing, in the disordered state of his mind, that the + flinty-hearted Molly would probably esteem her 'dear' (like venison) the + better for being hung! Mystically muttering 'adoo!' three times, in the + most pathetic tone, he swung off and in an instant came to his latter end—for + the rope snapp'd in twain, and he found himself seated on the turf below, + when he vainly imagined he was preparing himself for being placed below + the turf! + </p> + <p> + "Nothin' but disappointments in this world;" exclaimed he, really feeling + hurt by the unexpected fall, for he had grazed his calves in the meadow, + and was wofully vexed at finding himself a lover 'turned off' and yet + 'unhung.' + </p> + <p> + Cast down and melancholy, he retraced his steps, and seizing a cleaver + (dreadful weapon!) vented his suicidal humour in chopping, with malignant + fury, at his own block! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XIV. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>Don't you be saucy, Boys</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene14" id="Scene14"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene14.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene14.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "WHAT are you grinning at, boys?" angrily demanded an old gentleman seated + beside a meandering stream, of two schoolboys, who were watching him from + behind a high paling at his rear.—"Don't you know a little makes + fools laugh." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir! that's quite true, for we were laughing at what you've caught!" + </p> + <p> + "Umph! I tell you what, my lads, if I knew your master, I'd pull you up, + and have you well dressed." + </p> + <p> + "Tell that to the fishes," replied the elder, "when you do get a bite!" + </p> + <p> + "You saucy jackanapes! how dare you speak to me in this manner?" + </p> + <p> + "Pray, sir, are you lord of the manor? I'm sure you spoke to us first," + said the younger. + </p> + <p> + "More than that," continued his companion. "We are above speaking to you, + for you are beneath us!" + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman, rather nettled at the glibness of the lads, stuck a + hook vengefully into an inoffensive worm, and threw his line. + </p> + <p> + The boys still retained their post, and after many whispered remarks and + tittering, the younger thrust his handkerchief into his mouth to smother a + burst of irrepressible laughter, while the other, assuming a modest and + penitent air, said: + </p> + <p> + "I beg your pardon, sir." + </p> + <p> + "What?" demanded the old gentleman sharply. + </p> + <p> + "Hope you are not offended, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "Get along with you," replied the unfortunate angler, irritated at his + want of success. + </p> + <p> + "I can tell you something, sir," continued the lad;—"there's no fish + to be had where you are. I know the river well. Father's very fond o' + fish; he always brings home plenty. If you like, sir, I can show you the + place." + </p> + <p> + Here his companion rolled upon the grass and kicked, perfectly convulsed + with laughter, luckily hidden from the view of the now mollified old + gentleman. + </p> + <p> + "Indeed!" cried the angler: "is it far from this?" + </p> + <p> + "Not a quarter of a mile," replied the boy. + </p> + <p> + "That is nothing. I've walked eighteen this morning," said the old + gentleman, packing up his apparatus. "I'll go with you directly, and thank + you too, for I'm a perfect stranger in these parts." + </p> + <p> + When he had joined them, the laughing fits of the younger had subsided, + although he chose to fall in the rear. "Now, to shew you how much more + profitable it is to respect than to mock at your superiors in years, + there's a (let me see)—there's a halfpenny for you to purchase + cakes." + </p> + <p> + "Thank ye, sir," said he, and turning to his companion with a wink: "Here + Bill, run to Cummins' and buy a ha'p'orth of eights—we'll make the + most of it—and I'll come to you as soon as I've shown the gentleman + the fish." + </p> + <p> + "Show me the place, and I'll find the fish," said the anticipating angler. + </p> + <p> + On they trudged. + </p> + <p> + "Must we go through the town?" asked his companion, as he marched with his + long rod in one hand and his can in the other. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir, it ain't far;" and he walked on at a quicker pace, while all + the crowd of rustics gazed at t e extraordinary appearance of the armed + Waltonian, for it happened to be market-day. After parading him in this + fashion nearly through the town, he presently twitched him by his + coat-sleeve. + </p> + <p> + "Look there, sir!" cried he, pointing to a well-stocked fishmonger's. + </p> + <p> + "Beautiful!—what a quantity!" exclaimed the venerable piscator. + </p> + <p> + "I thought you'd like it, sir—that's the place for fish, sir,—good + morning." + </p> + <p> + "Eh! what—you young dog?" + </p> + <p> + "That's where father gets all his, I assure you, sir,—good morning," + said the youth, and making a mock reverence, bounded off as fast as his + legs could carry him. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XV. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! I am quite ashamed o' you."</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"Vell, vots the odds as long as you're happy!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene15" id="Scene15"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene15.jpg (59K)" src="images/Scene15.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + JACK was an itinerant vender of greens, and his spouse was a peripatetic + distributor of the finny tribe, (sprats, herrings or mackerel, according + to the season,) and both picked up a tolerable livelihood by their + respective callings. + </p> + <p> + Like the lettuces he sold, Jack had a good heart, and his attention was + first attracted to the subsequent object of his election by the wit of a + passing boy, who asked the damsel how she sold her carrots? Jack's eyes + were in an instant turned towards one whom he considered a competitor in + the trade—when he beheld the physiognomy of his Sarah beaming with + smiles beneath an abundant crop of sunny hair! + </p> + <p> + "You are a beauty and no mistake," exclaimed the green grocer in + admiration. + </p> + <p> + "Flummery!" replied the damsel—the deep blush of modesty mantling + her cheeks. Jack rested his basket on a post beside her stall, and drank + deep draughts of love, while Sarah's delicate fingers were skilfully + employed in undressing a pound of wriggling eels for a customer. + </p> + <p> + "Them's rig'lar voppers!" remarked Jack. + </p> + <p> + "Three to a pound," answered Sarah, and so they slipped naturally into + discourse upon trade, its prospects and profits, and gradually a hint of + partnership was thrown out. + </p> + <p> + Sarah laughed at his insinuating address, and displayed a set of teeth + that rivalled crimped skate in their whiteness—a month afterwards + they became man and wife. For some years they toiled on together—he, + like a caterpillar, getting a living out of cabbages, and she, like an + undertaker, out of departed soles! Latterly, however, Jack discovered that + his spouse was rather addicted to 'summut short,' in fact, that she drank + like a fish, although the beverage she affected was a leetle stronger than + water. Their profit (unlike Mahomet) permitted them the same baneful + indulgence—and kept them both in spirits! + </p> + <p> + Their trade, however, fell off for they were often unable to carry their + baskets. + </p> + <p> + The last time we beheld them, Sarah was sitting in the cooling current of + a gutter, with her heels upon the curb (alas! how much did she need a + curb!) while Jack, having disposed of his basket, had obtained a post in a + public situation, was holding forth on the impropriety of her conduct. + </p> + <p> + "How can you let yourself down so?" said he,—"You're drunk—drunk, + Sarah, drunk!" + </p> + <p> + "On'y a little elevated, Jack." + </p> + <p> + "Elevated!—floor'd you mean." + </p> + <p> + "Vell; vot's the odds as long as you're happy?" + </p> + <p> + Jack finding all remonstrance was vain, brought himself up, and reeling + forward, went as straight home—as he could, leaving his spouse (like + many a deserted wife) soaking her clay, because he refused to support her! + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XVI. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong! and got to walk all that way back + again."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene16" id="Scene16"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene16.jpg (95K)" src="images/Scene16.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + A PEDESTRIAN may get robbed of his money on the highway, but a cross-road + frequently robs him of time and patience; for when haply he considers + himself at his journey's end, an impertinent finger-post, offering him the + tardy and unpleasant information that he has wandered from his track, + makes him turn about and wheel about, like Jim Crow, in anything but a + pleasant humor. + </p> + <p> + It were well if every wayfarer were like the sailor, who when offered a + quid from the 'bacoo box of a smoker, said, 'I never chews the short-cut!' + and in the same spirit, we strongly advise him, before he takes the + short-cut to think of the returns! + </p> + <p> + Should the weather prove rainy, the hungry traveller may certainly get a + wet on the road, although he starves before he reaches the wished-for inn. + </p> + <p> + As there is likewise no more chance of meeting a good tempered guide on a + cross-road, than of finding eggs and bacon, in an edible state, at least + on a common—and as he can no more pull in the summer-rains than he + can the reins of a runaway stallion; the result is, the inexperienced + youth ludicrously represents so many pounds of 'dripping,' and although he + may be thirsty, he will have no cause to complain that he is—dry! + The best mode for an honest man to go round the country, is to take a + straight-forward course, especially when the surcharged clouds do rule the + horizon with sloping lines of rain! Besides, it is by no means a pleasant + thing for a man with a scanty wardrobe, to find his clothes running away + at a most unpleasant rate, while he can scarcely drag one clay-encumbered + leg after the other. + </p> + <p> + It is a difficult trial, too, of a man's philosophy, after trudging over a + long field, to be encountered by the mockery of a 'ha! ha!'—fence! + He utters a few bitter expletives, perhaps, but nought avails his railing + against such a fence as that! + </p> + <p> + The shower which makes all nature smile, only causes him to laugh—on + the wrong side of his mouth, for he regards it as a temperance man does a + regular soaker! + </p> + <p> + Reader! never attempt a bye-way on a wet day, with a stick and bundle at + your back—(if you have a waterproof trunk, you may indeed weather + it)—but go a-head on the turnpike road—the way of all mails—leaving + long and short commons to the goose and donkey—and the probability + is, that you may not only I make a sign before you die, but get a feed—and + a shelter. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XVII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene17" id="Scene17"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene17.jpg (84K)" src="images/Scene17.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + IT is a most extraordinary thing, 'pon my veracity: I go out as regularly + as the year, and yet I never bring down an individual bird. + </p> + <p> + I have one of the best Mantons going with such a bore! and then I use the + best shot—but not being the best shot in the world myself—I + suppose is the identical reason why I never hit any thing. I think it must + arise from a natural defect in my sight; for when I suppose a covey as + near—as my miser of an uncle—they are probably as distant—as + my ninety-ninth cousin! + </p> + <p> + Such a rum go!—the other day I had a troop of fellows at my heels, + laughing like mad; and what do you think?—when I doffed my shooting + jacket, I found some wag had stuck the top of a printed placard on my + back, with the horrid words, "A young Gentleman missing!" + </p> + <p> + It was only last week, a whole flight of sparrows rose at my very feet—I + fired—bang!—no go!—but I heard a squall; and elevating + my glass, lo! I beheld a cottage within a few yards of my muzzle—the + vulgar peasant took the trouble to leap his fence, and inform me I had + broken his windows—of course I was compelled to pay him for his + panes. + </p> + <p> + To be sure he did rather indicate a disposition to take away my gun—which + I certainly should never have relinquished without a struggle—and so + I forked out the dibs, in order to keep the piece! I'm quite positive, + however, that the vagabond over-charged me, and I kicked, as was quite + natural, you know, under such circumstances! + </p> + <p> + I really have an imperfect notion of disposing of my shooting-tackle—but + I'm such an unfortunate devil, that I really believe when I post 'em up + for sale—my gun will not go off!—dem me! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Have you read the leader in this paper, Mr. Brisket?"</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"No! I never touch a newspaper; they are all so werry wenal, and + Ovoid of sentiment!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene18" id="Scene18"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene18.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene18.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + BOB. <br />O! here's a harticle agin the fools, <br />Vich our poor British + Nation so misrules: <br />And don't they show 'em up with all their tricks— + <br />By gosh! I think they'd better cut their sticks; <br />They never can + surwive such cuts as these is! + </p> + <p> + BRISKET. <br />It's werry well; but me it never pleases; <br />I never reads + the news, and sees no merit <br />In anythink as breathes a party sperrit. + </p> + <p> + BOB. <br />Ain't you a hinglishman? and yet not feel <br />A hint'rest, + Brisket, in the common-weal? + </p> + <p> + BRISKET. <br />The common-weal be—anything for me,— <br />There + ain't no sentiment as I can see <br />In all the stuff these sons of—Britain + prate— <br />They talk too much and do too little for the state. + </p> + <p> + BOB. <br />O! Brisket, I'm afeard as you're a 'Rad?' + </p> + <p> + BRISKET. <br />No, honour bright! for sin' I was a lad <br />I've stuck + thro' thick and thin to Peel, or <br />Vellinton—for Tories is + genteeler; <br />But I'm no politician. No! I read <br />These 'Tales of + Love' vich tells of hearts as bleed, <br />And moonlight meetins in the + field and grove, <br />And cross-grain'd pa's and wictims of true love; + <br />Wirgins in white a-leaping out o' winders— <br />Vot some old + codger cotches, and so hinders— <br />From j'ining her true-love to + tie the knot, <br />Who broken-hearted dies upon the spot! + </p> + <p> + BOB. <br />That's werry fine!—but give me politics— <br />There's + summat stirring even in the tricks <br />Of them vot's in to keep the + t'others out,— <br />How I Should like to hear the fellers spout! + <br />For some on 'em have sich a lot o' cheek, <br />If they war'n't + stopp'd they'd go it for a week. + </p> + <p> + BRISKET. <br />But they're so wulgar, Bob, and call sich names <br />As + quite the tag-rag of St. Giles' shames <br />The press too is so wenal, + that they think <br />All party herrors for the sake o' chink. + </p> + <p> + BOB. <br />But ain't there no false lovers in them tales, <br />Vot hover + wirgin hinnocence perwails? + </p> + <p> + BRISKET. <br />Vy, yes, but in the end the right one's married, <br />And + after much to do the point is carried <br />So give me love sincere and + tender, <br />And all the rest's not worth a bender. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XIX. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <a name="Scene19" id="Scene19"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene19.jpg (73K)" src="images/Scene19.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + AN EPISTLE + </p> + <p> + FROM + </p> + <p> + SAMUEL SOFTLY, ESQ. TO HIS FRIEND, RICHARD GUBBINS, ESQ. OF TOOLEY STREET. + </p> + <p> + O! DICK! + </p> + <p> + Such a misfortin' has you never heard on as come upon your friend. I'll + jist give you a breef houtline of the circumstantials as near as my flurry + vill let me. T'other mornin' I vips up my gun for to go a-shootin', and + packin' up my hammunition, and some sanwidges, I bids adoo to this wile + smoky town, vith the intention of gettin' a little hair. Vell! on I goes + a-visshin' and thinkin' on nothin', and happy as the bumblebees as vos + a-numming around me. Vell! a'ter an hour or more's valking, not an house + nor a brick vos wisible. + </p> + <p> + Natur', in all her werdur', vos smilin' like a fat babby in its maternal + harms! But, as somebody has it— + </p> + <p> + "Man never ain't, but al'ays to be bless'd," + </p> + <p> + and I'm bless'd if that ain't true too, as you shall see presently. Vell! + I pops at von bird and then at another; but vether the poor creturs vos + unaccustom'd to guns, and so vos frighten'd, I don't know, but somehow I + couldn't hit 'em no-how. + </p> + <p> + Vell! and so I vos jist a-chargin' agin ven a great he-fellow, in a ruff + coat and partic'lar large viskers, accostes me (ciwilly I must say, but + rayther familler)— + </p> + <p> + "Birds shy?" says he. + </p> + <p> + "Werry;—ain't hit nothin'," says I. + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell you vot it is, young gentleman," says he, "it's the unevenness + o' the ground!" + </p> + <p> + "D've think so?" says I. + </p> + <p> + "Sure on it," says he; "I'm a hold sojer! Know this 'ere place, and have + picked up many a good dinner in it. Look at them fe'l'fares yonder," says + he, "on'y let me have a slap at 'em for you, and see if I don't finish + some on 'em in the twinkling of a pig's visper." + </p> + <p> + In course I felt obleeged by sich a hoffer, and hands him the gun. Vell! I + vos a-follerin' him quite pleased, ven he visks round, and puttin' the + muzzle o' the hinstrument fist agin my vescoat, says he, "Now you've lent + us your gun, you may as vell lend us your votch. I can't shoot any think + for you till I sees vot's o'clock!" + </p> + <p> + Here vas a go!—but I see vot vas a clock in a hinstant—and no + mistake. So I cotch'd hold on the two butiful chased seals and tugs it + out. + </p> + <p> + "That's the time o' day!" says he, a-cockin' his hugly heye at the dial; + "and now," says he, "as you seems frightened at the gun, I shall jist put + it out o' harm's way." + </p> + <p> + And with that he chucks it splash, into a duck-pond, and hoff marches my + hold sojer in a jiffy! I vos putrified! and fell to a-blubberin' like a + hinfant. + </p> + <p> + O! Dick, vot's to be done? + </p> + <p> + You know I ham, at any rate, + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + S. SOFTLY. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XX. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene20" id="Scene20"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene20.jpg (89K)" src="images/Scene20.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + AMONG the very few fashionable foibles to which Mr. Wiggins was addicted, + was the smoking of cigars. Attracted by the appearance of a small box + marked 'Marylands—one penny each,' very much resembling + lettuce-leaves with the yellow jaundice, he walked into the chandler's + shop where they were displayed. + </p> + <p> + "Let us look at them cigars," said he, and then, for the first time, + glancing at the smart, good-looking mistress of the emporium, he added, + "if you please, ma'am—" + </p> + <p> + "Certain'y, sir." + </p> + <p> + A pretty little fist that, howsomever! thought Wiggins, as she placed the + box before him. + </p> + <p> + "Vill you have a light?" + </p> + <p> + "Thank'ye, ma'am," said he, ramming the cigar into his mouth, as if he + really intended to bolt it. + </p> + <p> + She twisted a slip of waste, and lighting it, presented it to her admiring + customer, for it was evident, from the rapt manner in which he scanned + her, that he was deeply smitten by her personal appearance. + </p> + <p> + She colored, coughed delicately, as the smoke tickled the tonsils of her + throat, and looked full at the youth. Such a look! as Wiggins asserted. + "I'm afeared as the smoke is disagreeable," said he. + </p> + <p> + "Oh! dear no, not at all, I assure you; I likes it of all things. I can't + abide a pipe no-how, but I've quite a prevalence (predilection?) for + siggers." So Wiggins puffed and chatted away; and at last, delighted with + the sprightly conversation of the lady, seated himself on the small-beer + barrel, and so far forgot his economy in the fascination of his + entertainer, that he purchased a second. At this favourable juncture, Mrs. + Warner, (for she was a widow acknowledging five-and-twenty) ordered the + grinning shop-boy, who was chopping the 'lump,' to take home them 'ere + dips to a customer who lived at some distance. Wiggins, not aware of the + 'ruse,' felt pleased with the absence of one who was certainly 'de trop' + in the engrossing 'tete-a-tete.' We will pass over this preliminary + conversation; for a whole week the same scene was renewed, and at last + Mrs. Warner and Mr. Wiggins used to shake hands at parting. + </p> + <p> + "Do you hever go out?" said Wiggns. + </p> + <p> + "Sildom-werry sildom," replied the widow. + </p> + <p> + "Vos you never at the Vite Cundic, or the hEagle, or any of them places on + a Sunday?" + </p> + <p> + "How can I go," replied the widow, sighing, "vithout a purtector?" + </p> + <p> + Hereupon the enamoured Wiggins said, "How happy he should be," etc., and + the widow said, "She was sure for her part," etc. and so the affair was + settled. On the following Sunday the gallant Mr. Wiggins figged out, in + his best, escorted the delighted and delightful Mrs. Warner to that place + of fashionable resort, the White Conduit, and did the thing so handsomely, + that the lady was quite charmed. Seated in one of the snug arbors of that + suburban establishment, she poured out the hot tea, and the swain the most + burning vows of attachment. "Mr. Viggins, do you take sugar?" demanded the + fair widow. "Yes, my haingel," answered he, emphatically. "I loves all + wot's sweet," and then he gave her such a tender squeeze! "Done—do—you + naughty man!" cried she, tapping him on the knuckles with the plated + sugar-tongs, and then cast down her eyes with such a roguish modesty, that + he repeated the operation for the sake of that ravishing expression. + Pointing his knife at a pat of butter, he poetically exclaimed, "My heart + is jist like that—and you have made a himpression on it as time will + never put out!" "I did'nt think as you were quite so soft neither," said + the widow. "I ham," replied the suitor—"and there," continued he, + cutting a hot roll, and introducing the pat, "I melts as easily afore the + glance of your beautiful heyes!" Resolved to carry on the campaign with + spirit, he called for two glasses of brandy and water, stiff, and three + cigars! And now, becoming sentimental and communicative, he declared, with + his hand upon his heart, that "hif there vos a single thing in life as + would make him completely happy, it vos a vife!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XXI. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene21" id="Scene21"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene21.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene21.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wiggins was so intoxicated with love, brandy-and-water and cigars, + that he scarcely knew how he reached home. He only remembered that he was + very dizzy, and that his charming widow—his guide and friend—had + remonstrated with him upon the elevation of his style, and the + irregularity of his progression. + </p> + <p> + With his head in his hand, and a strong "dish of tea" without milk, before + him, he was composing himself for business the following morning, when an + unexpected visitor was announced. + </p> + <p> + "Please, sir, there's Mrs. Warner's 's boy as wants to speak vith you," + said his landlady. + </p> + <p> + "Show him up," languidly replied our lover, throwing his aching head from + his right to his left hand. + </p> + <p> + "Vell, Jim, vot's the matter!" demanded he—"How's your missus?" + </p> + <p> + "She ain't no missus o' mine no longer," replied Jim. + </p> + <p> + "How?" + </p> + <p> + "I tell you vot it is, sir, she promised to give me a shillin'-aweek an' + my feed; an' she ain't done vun thing nor t' other; for I'm bless'd if I + ain't starved, and ain't seen the color of her money sin' I bin there. + Father's goin' to summon her." + </p> + <p> + "It's some mistake, sure?" + </p> + <p> + "It's no mistake tho'," persisted Jim, "an' I can tell you she ain't got a + farden to bless herself vith!—an' she's over head-and-ears in debt + too, I can tell you; an' she pays nobody—puttin' 'em all off, vith + promises to pay wen she's married." + </p> + <p> + "My heye!" exclaimed the excited Wiggins, thrown all a-back by this very + agreeable intention upon his funds. + </p> + <p> + "More nor that, sir," continued the revengeful Jim, "I know she thinks as + she's hooked a preshus flat, an' means to marry you outright jist for vot + she can get. An' von't she scatter the dibs?—that's all; she's the + extravagantest 'ooman as hever I came anigh to." + </p> + <p> + "But, (dear me! ) she has a good stock—?" + </p> + <p> + "Dummies, sir, all dummies." + </p> + <p> + "Dummies?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir; the sugars on the shelves is all dummies—wooden 'uns, + done up in paper! The herrin' tub is on'y got a few at top—the + rest's all shavins an' waste.—There's plenty o' salt to be sure—but + the werry soap-box is all made up." + </p> + <p> + "And so's my mind!" emphatically exclaimed the deluded Wiggins, slapping + the breakfast-table with his clenched fist. + </p> + <p> + "Jim—Jim—you're a honest lad, and there's half-a-crown for you— + </p> + <p> + "Thank'ye for me, sir," said the errand-boy, grinning with delight—" + "and—and you'll cut the missus, Sir!" + </p> + <p> + "For ever!—" + </p> + <p> + "Hooray! I said as how I'd have my rewenge!" cried the lad, and pulling + the front of his straight hair, as an apology for a bow, he retreated from + the room. + </p> + <p> + "What an escape!" soliloquized Wiggins—"Should n't I ha' bin + properly hampered? that's all. No more insinniwating widows for me!—" + </p> + <p> + And so ended the Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XXII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>The Itinerant Musician.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene22" id="Scene22"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene22.jpg (84K)" src="images/Scene22.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + A WANDERING son of Apollo, with a shocking bad hat, encircled by a + melancholy piece of rusty crape, and arrayed in garments that had once + shone with renovated splendour in that mart of second-hand habiliments + 'ycleped Monmouth-street, was affrighting the echoes of a fashionable + street by blowing upon an old clarionet, and doing the 'Follow, hark!' of + Weber the most palpable injustice. + </p> + <p> + The red hand of the greasy cook tapped at the kitchen-window below, and + she scolded inaudibly—but he still continued to amuse—himself, + as regardless of the cook's scolding as of the area-railing against which + he leaned, tuning his discordant lay. + </p> + <p> + His strain indeed appeared endless, and he still persevered in torturing + the ambient air with, apparently, as little prospect of blowing himself + out as an asthmatic man would possibly have of extinguishing a smoky link + with a wheeze—or a hungry cadger without a penny! + </p> + <p> + The master of the mansion was suffering under a touch of the gout, + accompanied by a gnawing tooth-ache!—The horrid noise without made + his trembling nerves jangle like the loose strings of an untuned guitar. + </p> + <p> + A furious tug at the bell brought down the silken rope and brought up an + orbicular footman. + </p> + <p> + "William" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "D—— that, etc.! and send him to, etc.!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + And away glided the liveried rotundity.— + </p> + <p> + Appearing at the street-door, the musician took his instrument from his + lips, and, approaching the steps, touched his sorry beaver with the side + of his left hand. + </p> + <p> + "There's three-pence for you," said the menial, "and master wishes you'd + move on." + </p> + <p> + "Threepence, indeed!" mumbled the man. "I never moves on under sixpence: + d'ye think I doesn't know the walley o' peace and quietness?" + </p> + <p> + "Fellow!" cried the irate footman, with a pompous air—"Master + desires as you'll go on." + </p> + <p> + "Werry well"—replied the other, touching his hat, while the domestic + waddled back, and closed the door, pluming himself upon having settled the + musician; but he had no sooner vanished, than the strain was taken up + again more uproariously than ever. + </p> + <p> + Out he rushed again in a twinkling— + </p> + <p> + "Fellow! I say—man! vot do you mean?" + </p> + <p> + "Vy, now didn't you tell me to go on?" + </p> + <p> + "I mean't go off." + </p> + <p> + "Then vy don't you speak plain hinglish," said the clarionist; "but, I + say, lug out t'other browns, or I shall say vot the flute said ven his + master said as how he'd play a tune on him." + </p> + <p> + "Vot vos that?" + </p> + <p> + "Vy, he'd be blow'd if he would!" + </p> + <p> + "You're a owdacious fellow." + </p> + <p> + "Tip!" was the laconic answer, accompanied by an expressive twiddling of + the fingers. + </p> + <p> + "Vell, there then," answered the footman, reluctantly giving him the price + of his silence. + </p> + <p> + "Thank'ye," said the musician, "and in time to come, old fellow, never do + nothin' by halves—'cept it's a calve's head!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE XXIII. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>Oh! lor, here's a norrid thing.'</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>The Confessions of a Sportsman.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene23" id="Scene23"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene23.jpg (64K)" src="images/Scene23.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "VELL, for three year, as sure as the Septembers comes, I takes the field, + but somehow or another I never takes nothin' else! My gun's a good 'un and + no mistake!—Percussions and the best Dartford, and all that too. My + haim ain't amiss neither; so there's a fault somewhere, that's certain. + The first time as I hentered on the inwigorating and manly sport, I valks + my werry legs off, and sees nothin' but crows and that 'ere sort o' small + game. + </p> + <p> + "I vos so aggrawated, that at last I lets fly at 'em in werry spite, jist + as they vos a sendin' of their bills into an orse for a dinner. + </p> + <p> + "Bang! goes the piece;—caw! caw! goes the birds; and I dessay I did + for some on 'em, but I don't know, for somehow I vos in sich a preshus + hurry to bag my game, that I jumps clean over vun bank, and by goles! + plump into a ditch on t'other side, up to my werry neck! + </p> + <p> + "The mud stuck to me like vax; and findin' it all over vith me, and no + chance o' breaking a cover o' this sort, I dawdled about 'till dusk, and + vos werry glad to crawl home and jump into bed. I vos so 'put out' that I + stayed at home the rest o' that season. + </p> + <p> + "The second year come, and my hardor vos agin inflamed. 'Cotch me + a-shootin' at crows,' says I.—Vell, avay I goes a-vhistling to + myself, ven presently I see a solentary bird on the wing; 'a pariwidge, by + jingo!' says I—I cocks—presents, and hits it! Hooray! down it + tumbles, and afore I could load and prime agin, a whole lot o' 'em comes + out from among the trees. 'Here's luck' says I; and jist shouldered my + piece, ven I gets sich a vop behind as sent me at full length. + </p> + <p> + "'Vot's that for?' says I. + </p> + <p> + "'Vot are you a shootin' at my pigeons for?' says a great hulking, + farmering-looking fellow. + </p> + <p> + "A hexplanation follered; and in course I paid the damage, vich stood me a + matter of a suv'rin, for he said he'd take his davy as how it vos a + waluable tumbler!—I never sees a 'go' o' rum and vater but vot I + thinks on it. This vos a sickener. + </p> + <p> + "The third year I vos hout agin as fresh as a daisy, ven I made a haim at + a sparrer, or a lark, or summit o' that kind—hit it, in course, and + vos on the p'int o' going for'ard, ven lo! on turning my wision atop o' + the bank afore me, I seed a norrid thing!—a serpent, or a + rattle-snake, or somethink a-curling itself up and a hissing like fun! + </p> + <p> + "I trembled like a haspen-leaf, and-didn't I bolt as fast as my werry legs + would carry me, that's all? + </p> + <p> + "Since that time I may say, with the chap in the stage-play, that my + parent has kept myself, his only son, at home, for I see no sport in sich + rigs, and perfer a little peace at home to the best gun in the field!"— + <br /><br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE JOLLY ANGLERS. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd1_Jolly_Anglers" id="Odd1_Jolly_Anglers"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd1_Jolly_Anglers.jpg (83K)" + src="images/Odd1%20Jolly%20Anglers.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + On a grassy bank, beside a meandering stream, sat two gentlemen averaging + forty years of age. The day was sultry, and, weary of casting their lines + without effect, they had stuck their rods in the bank, and sought, in a + well-filled basket of provisions and copious libations of bottled porter, + to dissipate their disappointment. + </p> + <p> + "Ain't this jolly? and don't you like a day's fishing, Sam?" + </p> + <p> + "O! werry much, werry much," emphatically replied his friend, taking his + pipe from his mouth. + </p> + <p> + "Ah! but some people don't know how to go a-fishinq, Sam; they are such + fools." + </p> + <p> + "That's a werry good remark o' your'n," observed Sam; "I daresay as how + hangling is werry delightful vhen the fishes vill bite; but vhen they + von't, vhy they von't, and vot's the use o' complaining. Hangling is just + like writing: for instance—you begins vith, 'I sends you this 'ere + line hoping,' and they don't nibble; vell! that's just the same as not + hanswering; and, as I takes it, there the correspondence ends!" + </p> + <p> + "Exactly; I'm quite o' your opinion," replied his companion, tossing off a + bumper of Barclay's best; "I say, Sammy, we mustn't empty t'other bottle + tho'." + </p> + <p> + "Vhy not?" + </p> + <p> + "Cos, do you see, I'm just thinking ve shall vant a little porter to carry + us home: for, by Jingo! I don't think as how either of us can toddle—that + is respectably!" + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense! I'd hundertake to walk as straight as a harrow; on'y, I must + confess, I should like to have a snooze a'ter my pipe; I'm used to it, + d'ye see, and look for it as nat'rally as a babby does." + </p> + <p> + "Vell, but take t'other glass for a nightcap; for you know, Sammy, if you + sleep vithout, you may catch cold: and, vhatever you do, don't snore, or + you'll frighten the fish." + </p> + <p> + "Naughty fish!" replied Sammy, "they know they're naughty too, or else + they voud'nt be so afear'd o' the rod!—here's your health;" and he + tossed off the proffered bumper. + </p> + <p> + "Excuse me a-rising to return thanks," replied his friend, grasping + Sammy's hand, and looking at him with that fixed and glassy gaze which + indicates the happy state of inebriety, termed maudlin; "I know you're a + sincere friend, and there ain't nobody as I value more: man and boy have I + knowed you; you're unchanged! you're the same!! there ain't no + difference!!! and I hope you may live many years to go a-fishing, and I + may live to see it, Sammy. Yes, old boy, this here's one of them days that + won't be forgotten: it's engraved on my memory deep as the words on a + tombstone, 'Here he lies! Here he lies!'" he repeated with a hiccup, and + rolled at full length across his dear friend. + </p> + <p> + Sammy, nearly as much overcome as his friend, lifted up his head, and + sticking his hat upon it, knocked it over his eyes, and left him to + repose; and, placing his own back against an accommodating tree, he + dropped his pipe, and then followed the example of his companion. + </p> + <p> + After a few hours deep slumber, they awoke. The sun had gone down, and + evening had already drawn her star-bespangled mantle over the scene of + their festive sport. + </p> + <p> + Arousing themselves, they sought for their rods, and the remnants of their + provisions, but they were all gone. + </p> + <p> + "My hey! Sammy, if somebody bas'nt taken advantage of us. My watch too has + gone, I declare." + </p> + <p> + "And so's mine!" exclaimed Sammy, feeling his empty fob. "Vell, if this + ain't a go, never trust me." + </p> + <p> + "I tell you vot it is, Sammy; some clever hartist or another has seen us + sleeping, like the babes in the wood, and has drawn us at full length!" + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE BILL-STICKER. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd2_Bill_Sticker" id="Odd2_Bill_Sticker"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd2_Bill_Sticker.jpg (68K)" + src="images/Odd2%20Bill%20Sticker.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + What a mysterious being is the bill-sticker! How seldom does he make + himself visible to the eyes of the people. Nay, I verily believe there are + thousands in this great metropolis that never saw a specimen. We see the + effect, but think not of the cause. + </p> + <p> + He must work at his vocation either at night or at early dawn, before the + world is stirring. + </p> + <p> + That he is an industrious being, and sticks to business, there cannot be + the shadow of a doubt, for every dead-wall is made lively by his + operations, and every hoard a fund of information—in such type, too, + that he who runs may read. What an indefatigable observer he must be; for + there is scarcely a brick or board in city or suburb, however newly + erected, in highway or byeway, but is speedily adorned by his handiwork—aye, + and frequently too in defiance of the threatening—"BILL-STICKERS, + BEWARE!"—staring him in the face. Like nature, he appears to abhor a + vacuum. When we behold the gigantic size of some of the modern arches, we + are almost led to suppose that the bill-sticker carries about his placards + in a four-wheeled waggon, and that his paste-pot is a huge cauldron! How + he contrives to paste and stick such an enormous sheet so neatly against + the rugged side of a house, is really astonishing. Whether three or four + stories high, the same precision is remarkable. We cannot but wonder at + the dexterity of his practised hand: The union is as perfect as if Dan + Hymen, the saffron-robed Joiner, had personally superintended the + performance. + </p> + <p> + The wind is perhaps the only real enemy he has to fear. How his heart and + his flimsy paper must flutter in the unruly gusts of a March wind! We only + imagine him pasting up a "Sale of Horses," in a retired nook, and seeing + his bill carried away on an eddy! + </p> + <p> + We once had the good fortune to witness a gusty freak of this kind. The + bill-sticker had affixed a bill upon the hooks of his stick, displaying in + prominent large characters—"SALE BY AUCTION—Mr. GEO. ROBINS—Capital + Investment,"—and so forth, when a sudden whirlwind took the bill off + the hooks, before it was stuck, and fairly enveloped the countenance of a + dandy gentleman who happened at the moment to be turning the corner. + </p> + <p> + Such a "Capital Investment" was certainly ludicrous in the extreme. + </p> + <p> + The poor bill-sticker was rather alarmed, for he had never stuck a bill + before on any front that was occupied. + </p> + <p> + He peeled the gentleman as quickly as possible, and stammered out an + apology. The sufferer, however, swore he would prefer a bill against him + at the ensuing sessions. Whether his threat was carried into execution, or + he was satisfied with the damages already received, we know not. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + OLD FOOZLE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd3_Old_Foozel" id="Odd3_Old_Foozel"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd3_Old_Foozel.jpg (73K)" src="images/Odd3%20Old%20Foozel.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + There is a certain period of life beyond which the plastic mind of man + becomes incapable of acquiring any new impressions. He merely elaborates + and displays the stores he has garnered up in his youth. There are indeed + some rare exceptions to the rule; but few, very few, can learn a language + after the age of forty. 'Tis true that Cowper did not commence the + composition of his delightful poems till he had attained that age; but + then it must be remembered that he had previously passed a life of study + and preparation, and that he merely gave the honey to the world which he + had hived in his youth, bringing to the task a mind polished and matured + by judgment and experience. But, generally speaking, we rather expect + reason than rhyme from an elderly gentleman; and when the reverse is the + case, the pursuit fits them as ridiculously as would a humming-top or a + hoop. Yet there are many who, having passed a life in the sole occupation + of making money—the most unpoetical of all avocations—that in + their retirement entertain themselves with such fantastic pranks and + antics, as only serve to amuse the lookers-on. A retired tradesman, it is + true, may chase ennui and the 'taedium vitae,' by digging and planting in + his kitchen-garden, or try his hand at rearing tulips and hyacinths; but + if he vainly attempt any other art, or dabble in light literature or heavy + philosophy, he is lost. Old Foozle was one of those who, having + accumulated wealth, retire with their housekeepers to spend the remnant of + their days in some suburban retreat, the monotony of whose life is varied + by monthly trips to town to bring tea and grocery, or purchase some + infallible remedy for their own gout, or their housekeeper's rheumatism. + Unfortunately for his peace, Old Foozle accidentally dipped into a + tattered tome of "Walton's Complete Angler;" and the vivid description of + piscatorial pleasures therein set forth so won upon his mind, that he + forthwith resolved to taste them. In vain were the remonstrances of his + nurse, friend, and factotum. The experiment must be tried. Having more + money than wit to spare, he presently supplied himself with reels and rods + and tackle, landing-nets and gentle-boxes, and all the other necessary + paraphernalia of the art. + </p> + <p> + Donning his best wig and spectacles, he sallied forth, defended from the + weather by a short Spencer buttoned round his loins, and a pair of + double-soled shoes and short gaiters. So eager was he to commence, that he + no sooner espied a piece of water, than, with trembling hands, he put his + rod together, and displayed his nets, laying his basket, gaping for the + finny prey, on the margin of the placid waters. With eager gaze he watched + his newly-varnished and many-coloured float, expecting every-moment to + behold it sink, the inviting bait being prepared 'secundum artem.' He had + certainly time for reflection, for his float had been cast at least an + hour, and still remained stationary; from which he wisely augured that he + was most certainly neither fishing in a running stream nor in troubled + waters. + </p> + <p> + Presently a ragged urchin came sauntering along, and very leisurely seated + himself upon a bank near the devoted angler. Curiosity is natural to + youth, thought Foozle—how I shall make the lad wonder when I pull + out a wriggling fish! + </p> + <p> + But still another weary hour passed, and the old gentleman's arms and + loins began to ache from the novel and constrained posture in which he + stood. He grew nervous and uneasy at the want of sport; and thinking that + perhaps the little fellow was acquainted with the locality, he turned + towards him, saying, in the blandest but still most indifferent tone he + could assume, lest he should compromise his dignity by exposing his + ignorance— + </p> + <p> + "I say, Jack, are there any fish in this pond?" + </p> + <p> + "There may be, sir," replied the boy, pulling his ragged forelock most + deferentially, for Old Foozle had an awful churchwarden-like appearance; + "there may be, but I should think they were weary small, 'cause there vos + no vater in this here pond afore that there rain yesterday." + </p> + <p> + The sallow cheeks of the old angler were tinged with a ruddy glow, called + up by the consciousness of his ridiculous position. Taking a penny from + his pocket, he bade the boy go buy some cakes: and no sooner had he + gallopped off, than the disappointed Waltonian hastily packed up his + tackle, and turned his steps homeward; and this was the first and last + essay of Old Foozle. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd4_Crack_Shots_1" id="Odd4_Crack_Shots_1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd4_Crack_Shots_1.jpg (76K)" + src="images/Odd4%20Crack%20Shots%201.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + A club, under the imposing style of the "Crack-Shots," met every Wednesday + evening, during the season, at a house of public entertainment in the + salubrious suburbs of London, known by the classical sign of the "Magpye + and Stump." Besides a trim garden and a small close-shaven grass-plat in + the rear (where elderly gentlemen found a cure for 'taedium vitae' and the + rheumatism in a social game of bowls), there was a meadow of about five or + six acres, wherein a target was erected for the especial benefit of the + members of this celebrated club; we say celebrated, because, of all clubs + that ever made a noise in the world, this bore away the palm-according to + the reports in the neighbourhood. Emulation naturally caused excitement, + and the extraordinary deeds they performed under its influence we should + never have credited, had we not received the veracious testimony of—the + members themselves. + </p> + <p> + After the trials of skill, they generally spent the evenings together. + </p> + <p> + Jack Saggers was the hero of the party; or perhaps he might be more + appropriately termed the "great gun," and was invariably voted to the + chair. He made speeches, which went off admirably; and he perpetrated puns + which, like his Joe Manton, never missed fire, being unanimously voted + admirable hits by the joyous assembly. + </p> + <p> + Their pleasures and their conversation might truly be said to be of a + piece. + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen"—said Jack, one evening rising upon his legs—"Do me + the favour to charge. Are you all primed and loaded? I am about to propose + the health of a gentleman, who is not only an honour to society at large, + but to the 'Crack-Shots' in particular. Gentlemen, the mere mention of the + name of Brother Sniggs—(hear! hear!)—I know will call forth a + volley!—(Hear! hear!) Gentlemen, I give you the health of Brother + Sniggs! make ready, present and fire!" + </p> + <p> + Up went the glasses, and down went the liquor in a trice, followed by + three times three, Jack Saggers giving the time, and acting as + "fugle-man." + </p> + <p> + Sniggs, nervously fingering his tumbler of "half and half," as if he + wanted the spirit to begin, hemmed audibly, and "Having three times shook + his head <br /> To stir his wit, thus he said," + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen, I don't know how it is, but somehows the more a man has to + say, the more he can't! I feel, for all the world, like a gun rammed tight + and loaded to the muzzle, but without flint or priming——" + </p> + <p> + "Prime!" exclaimed Jack Saggers; and there was a general titter, and then + he continued; "as we cannot let you off Sniggs, you most go on, you know." + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen," resumed Sniggs, "I feel indeed so overloaded by the honors + you have conferred on me, that I cannot find words to express my + gratitude. I can only thank you, and express my sincere wish that your + shots may always tell." + </p> + <p> + And he sat down amidst unbounded applause. "By no means a-miss!" cried + Jack Saggers. + </p> + <p> + "A joke of mine, when I knocked down a bird the other morning," said + Sniggs: "you must know I was out early, and had just brought down my bird, + when leaping into the adjoining field to pick it up, a bird-catcher, who + had spread his nets on the dewy grass, walked right up to me." + </p> + <p> + "I've a visper for you, Sir," says he, as cool as a cucumber; "I don't + vish to be imperlite, but next time you shoots a bird vot I've brought to + my call, I'll shoot you into a clay-pit, that's all!" + </p> + <p> + "And pray what did you say, Sniggs?" asked Jack Saggers. + </p> + <p> + "Say?—nothing! but I looked unutterable things, and—shouldering + my piece—walked off!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd5_Crack_Shots_2" id="Odd5_Crack_Shots_2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd5_Crack_Shots_2.jpg (77K)" + src="images/Odd5%20Crack%20Shots%202.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "Sniggs's rencontre with the bird-catcher reminds me of Tom Swivel's + meeting with the Doctor," observed Smart. + </p> + <p> + "Make a report," cried Jack Saggers. + </p> + <p> + "Well, you must know, that I had lent him my piece for a day's shooting; + and just as he was sauntering along by a dead wall near Hampstead, looking + both ways at once for a quarry (for he has a particular squint), a stout + gentleman in respectable black, and topped by a shovel-hat, happened to be + coming in the opposite direction. With an expression of terror, the old + gentleman drew himself up against the unyielding bricks, and + authoritatively extending his walking-stick, addressed our sportsman in an + angry tone, saying: 'How dare you carry a loaded gun pointed at people's + viscera, you booby?' Now Tom is a booby, and no mistake, and so dropping + his under jaw and staring at the reverend, he answered: 'I don't know vot + you mean by a wiserar. I never shot a wiserar!'" + </p> + <p> + "Devilish good!" exclaimed Saggers; and, as a matter of course, everybody + laughed. + </p> + <p> + Passing about the bottle, the club now became hilarious and noisy; when + the hammer of the president rapped them to order, and knocked down Sniggs + for a song, who, after humming over the tune to himself, struck up the + following: <br /> CHAUNT <br />When the snow's on the ground and the trees + are all bare, <br />And rivers and gutters are turned into ice, <br />The + sportsman goes forth to shoot rabbit or hare, <br />And gives them a taste + of his skill in a trice. <br />Bang! bang! goes his Joe, <br />And the + bird's fall like snow, <br />And he bags all he kills in a trice. <br /> + <br /> CHORUS. <br />Bang! bang! goes his Joe, <br />And the bird's fall like + snow, <br />And he bags all he kills in a trice. <br /> <br /> II. <br />If he + puts up a partridge or pheasant or duck, <br />He marks him, and wings him, + and brings him to earth; <br />He let's nothing fly—but his piece—and + good luck <br />His bag fills with game and his bosom with mirth. <br /> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + Bang! bang! goes his Joe, <br />And the bird's fall like snow, <br />And + good sport fills his bosom with mirth. <br /> <br /> CHORUS. <br />Bang! + bang! et. etc. <br /> <br /> III. <br />When at night he unbends and + encounters his pals, <br />How delighted he boasts of the sport he has had; + <br />While a kind of round game's on the board, and gals <br />Are toasted + in bumpers by every lad. <br />And Jack, Jim, and Joe <br />Give the maid + chaste as snow <br />That is true as a shot to her lad! <br /> <br />CHORUS. + <br />And Jack, Jim and Joe <br />Give the maid chaste as snow <br />That is + true as a shot to her lad! <br /> + </p> + <p> + The customary applause having followed this vocal attempt of Sniggs, he + was asked for a toast or a sentiment. + </p> + <p> + "Here's—'May the charitable man never know the want of—'shot.'" + said Sniggs. + </p> + <p> + "Excellent!" exclaimed Saggers, approvingly; "By Jupiter Tonans, Sniggs, + you're a true son of—a gun!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE "CRACK-SHOTS."—No. III. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd6_Crack_Shots_3" id="Odd6_Crack_Shots_3"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd6_Crack_Shots_3.jpg (94K)" + src="images/Odd6%20Crack%20Shots%203.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "Sich a lark!" said Bill Sorrel, breaking abruptly in upon the noisy + chorus, miscalled a general conversation; "sich a lark!" + </p> + <p> + "Where?" demanded Saggers. + </p> + <p> + "You've jist hit it," replied Sorrel, "for it vere worry near 'Vare vhere + it happened. I'd gone hout hearly, you know, and had jist cotched sight of + a bird a-vistling on a twig, and puttered the vords, 'I'll spile your + singin', my tight 'un,' and levelled of my gun, ven a helderly gentleman, + on t'other side of the bank vich vos atween me and the bird, pops up his + powdered noddle in a jiffy, and goggling at me vith all his eyes, bawls + pout in a tantivy of a fright, 'You need'nt be afear'd, sir,' says I, 'I + aint a-haiming at you,' and vith that I pulls my trigger-bang! Vell, I + lost my dicky! and ven I looks for the old 'un, by Jingo! I'd lost him + too. So I mounts the bank vere he sot, but he vas'nt there; so I looks + about, and hobserves a dry ditch at the foot, and cocking my eye along it, + vhy, I'm blessed, if I did'nt see the old fellow a-scampering along as + fast as his legs could carry him. Did'nt I laugh, ready to split—that's + all!" + </p> + <p> + "I tell you what, Sorrel," said the president, with mock gravity, "I + consider the whole affair, however ridiculous, most immoral and + reprehensible. What, shall a crack-shot make a target of an elder? Never! + Let us seek more appropriate butts for our barrels! You may perhaps look + upon the whole as a piece of pleasantry but let me tell you that you ran a + narrow chance of being indicted for a breach of the peace! And remember, + that even shooting a deer may not prove so dear a shot as bringing down an + old buck!" + </p> + <p> + This humorous reproof was applauded by a "bravo!" from the whole club. + </p> + <p> + Sorrel sang—small, and Sniggs sang another sporting ditty. + </p> + <p> + "Our next meeting," resumed Saggers, "is on Thursday next when the + pigeon-match takes place for a silver-cup—the 'Crack Shots' against + the 'Oriental Club.' I think we shall give them I taste of our quality,' + although we do not intend that they shall lick us. The silver-cup is their + own proposal. The contest being a pigeon-match, I humbly proposed, as an + amendment, that the prize should be a tumbler—which I lost by a + minority of three. In returning thanks, I took occasion to allude to their + rejection of my proposition, and ironically thanked them for having cut my + tumbler." + </p> + <p> + "Werry good!" shouted Sorrel. + </p> + <p> + "Admirable!" exclaimed Sniggs; and, rising with due solemnity, he proposed + the health of the "worthy president," prefacing his speech with the modest + avowal of his inability to do what he still persisted in doing and did. + </p> + <p> + "Brother Shots!" said Saggers, after the usual honours had been duly + performed, "I am so unaccustomed to speaking (a laugh), that I rise with a + feeling of timidity to thank you for the distinguished honour you have + conferred on me. Praise, like wine, elevates a man, but it likewise + thickens and obstructs his speech; therefore, without attempting any + rhetorical flourish, I will simply say, I sincerely thank you all for the + very handsome manner in which you have responded to the friendly wishes of + Brother Sniggs; and, now as the hour of midnight is at hand, I bid you + farewell. It is indeed difficult to part from such good company; but, + although it is morally impossible there ever can be a division among such + cordial friends, both drunk and sober may at least separate—in + spirits,—and I trust we shall all meet again in health—Farewell!" + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + DOCTOR SPRAGGS. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd7_Doctor_Spraggs" id="Odd7_Doctor_Spraggs"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd7_Doctor_Spraggs.jpg (66K)" + src="images/Odd7%20Doctor%20Spraggs.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> <br />Old Doctor Spraggs! famed Doctor Spraggs! <br />Was + both well fee'd and fed, <br />And, tho' no soldier, Doctor Spraggs <br />Had + for his country-bled. <br /> <br />His patients living far and wide <br />He + was compell'd to buy <br />A horse; and found no trouble, for <br />He'd got + one in his eye! <br /> <br />He was a tall and bony steed <br />And warranted + to trot, <br />And so he bought the trotter, and <br />Of course four + trotters got. <br /> <br />Quoth he: "In sunshine quick he bounds <br />"Across + the verdant plain, <br />"And, e'en when showers fall, he proves <br />"He—doesn't + mind the rain!" <br /> <br />But, oh! one morn, when Doctor Spraggs <br />Was + trotting on his way, <br />A field of sportsmen came in view, <br />And made + his courser neigh. <br /> <br />"Nay! you may neigh," quoth Doctor Spraggs, + <br />"But run not, I declare <br />"I did not come to chase the fox, <br />"I + came to take the—air! <br /> <br />But all in vain he tugg'd the rein, + <br />The steed would not be stay'd; <br />The "Doctor's stuff" was shaken, + and <br />A tune the vials play'd. <br /> <br />For in his pockets he had + stow'd <br />Some physic for the sick; <br />Anon, "crack" went the bottles + all, <br />And forma a "mixture" quick. <br /> <br />His hat and wig flew + off, but still <br />The reins he hugg'd and haul'd; <br />And, tho' no cry + the huntsmen heard, <br />They saw the Doctor—bald! <br /> <br />They + loudly laugh'd and cheer'd him on, <br />While Spraggs, quite out of + breath, <br />Still gallopp'd on against his will, <br />And came in at the + death. <br /> <br />To see the Doctor riding thus <br />To sportsmen was a + treat, <br />And loudly they applauded him— <br />(Tho' mounted) on + his feat! <br /> <br />MORAL. <br />Ye Doctors bold, of this proud land <br />Of + liberty and—fogs, <br />No hunters ride, or you will go <br />Like + poor Spraggs—to the dogs! <br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE IX. (b) + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd8_Scene9b" id="Odd8_Scene9b"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd8_Scene9b.jpg (70K)" src="images/Odd8%20Scene9b.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites over there?" "No, but I'm afeard I shall, + soon have one." + </p> + <p> + Two youths, by favour of their sponsors, bearing the aristocratic names of + William and Joseph, started early one morning duly equipped, on + piscatorial sport intent. They trudged gaily forward towards a + neighbouring river, looking right and left, and around them, as sharp as + two crows that have scented afar off the carcase of a defunct nag. + </p> + <p> + At length they arrived at a lofty wall, on the wrong side of which, + musically meandered the stream they sought. After a deliberate + consultation, the valiant William resolved to scale the impediment, and + cast the line. Joseph prudently remained on the other side ready to catch + the fish—his companion should throw to him! Presently an exclamation + of "Oh! my!" attracted his attention. + </p> + <p> + "Have you got a bite?" eagerly demanded Joe. + </p> + <p> + "No! by gosh! but I think I shall soon!" cried Bill. Hereupon the + expectant Joseph mounted, and seating himself upon the wall, beheld to his + horror, Master Bill keeping a fierce bull-dog at bay with the butt end of + his fishing-rod. + </p> + <p> + "Go it, Bill!" exclaimed Joe, "pitch into him and scramble up." + </p> + <p> + The dog ran at him.—Joe in his agitation fell from his position, + while Bill threw his rod at the beast, made a desperate leap, and clutched + the top of the wall with his hands. + </p> + <p> + "Egad! I've lost my seat," cried Joe, rolling upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + "And so have I!" roared Bill, scrambling in affright over the wall. + </p> + <p> + And true it was, that he who had not got a bite before, had got a bite—behind! + </p> + <p> + Bill anathematised the dog, but the ludicrous bereavement he had sustained + made him laugh, in spite of his teeth! + </p> + <p> + Joe joined in his merriment. + </p> + <p> + "What a burning shame it is?" said he; "truly there ought to be breaches + ready made in these walls, Bill, that one might escape, if not repair + these damages." + </p> + <p> + "No matter," replied Bill, shaking his head, "I know the owner—he's + a Member of Parliament. Stop till the next election, that's all." + </p> + <p> + "Why, what has that to do with it?" demanded Joe. + </p> + <p> + "Do with it," said Bill emphatically, "why, I'll canvass for the opposite + party, to be sure." + </p> + <p> + "And what then?" + </p> + <p> + "Then I shall have the pleasure of serving him as his dog has served me. + Yes! Joe, the M. P. will lose his seat to a dead certainty!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Another pigeon! egad, I'm in luck's way this morning."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd9_Pouter" id="Odd9_Pouter"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd9_Pouter.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd9%20Pouter.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />Round and red, through the morning fog <br />The + sun's bright face <br />Shone, like some jolly toping dog <br />Of Bacchus' + race. <br /> <br />When Jenkins, with his gun and cur <br />On sport intent, + <br />Through fields, and meadows, many fur— <br />—longs gaily + went. <br /> <br />He popp'd at birds both great and small, <br />But nothing + hit; <br />Or if he hit, they wouldn't fall— <br />No, not a bit! + <br /> <br />"It's wery strange, I do declare; <br />I never see! <br />I go + at sky-larks in the hair <br />Or on a tree." <br /> <br />"It's all the + same, they fly away <br />Has I let fly— <br />The birds is + frightened, I dare say, <br />And vill not die." <br /> <br />"Vhy, here's a + go! I hav'nt ramm'd <br />In any shot; <br />The birds must think I only + shamm'd, <br />And none have got." <br /> <br />"I'll undeceive 'em quickly + now, <br />I bet a crown; <br />And whether fieldfare, tit, or crow, <br />Vill + bring 'em down." <br /> <br />And as he spake a pigeon flew <br />Across his + way— <br />Bang went his piece—and Jenkins slew <br />The + flutt'ring prey. <br /> <br />He bagg'd his game, and onward went, <br />When + to his view <br />Another rose, by fortune sent <br />To make up two. <br /> + <br />He fired, and beheld it fall <br />With inward glee, <br />And for a + minute 'neath a wall <br />Stood gazing he. <br /> <br />When from behind, + fierce, heavy blows <br />Fell on his hat, <br />And knock'd his beaver o'er + his nose, <br />And laid him flat. <br /> <br />"What for," cried Jenkins, + "am I mill'd, <br />Sir, like this ere?" <br />"You villain, you, why you + have kill'd <br />My pouter rare." <br /> <br />The sturdy knave who struck + him down <br />With frown replied:— <br />"For which I'll make you pay + a crown <br />Nor be denied." <br /> <br />Poor Jenkins saw it was in vain + <br />To bandy words; <br />So paid the cash and vow'd, again <br />He'd not + shoot birds— <br /> <br />At least of that same feather, lest <br />For + Pouter shot <br />Some Dragon fierce should him molest— <br />And fled + the spot. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE PIC-NIC. No. I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd10_Picnic1" id="Odd10_Picnic1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd10_Picnic1.jpg (93K)" src="images/Odd10%20Picnic1.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + A merry holiday party, forming a tolerable boat-load, and well provided + with baskets of provisions, were rowing along the beautiful and + picturesque banks that fringe the river's side near Twickenham, eagerly + looking out for a spot where they might enjoy their "pic-nic" to + perfection. + </p> + <p> + "O! uncle, there's a romantic glade;—do let us land there!" + exclaimed a beautiful girl of eighteen summers, to a respectable old + gentleman in a broad brimmed beaver and spectacles. + </p> + <p> + "Just the thing, I declare," replied he—"the very spot—pull + away, my lads—but dear me" continued he, as they neared the intended + landing-place, "What have we here? What says the board?" + </p> + <p> + "PARTIES ARE NOT, ALLOWED TO <br />LAND AND DINE HERE" + </p> + <p> + Oh! oh! very well; then we'll only land here, and dine a little further + on." + </p> + <p> + "What a repulsive board"—cried the young lady—"I declare now + I'm quite vex'd"— + </p> + <p> + "Never mind, Julia, we won't be bored by any board"—said the jocose + old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + "I'm sure, uncle"—said one of the youths—"we don't require any + board, for we provide ourselves." + </p> + <p> + "You're quite right, Master Dickey," said his uncle; "for we only came out + for a lark, you know, and no lark requires more than a little turf for its + entertainment; pull close to the bank, and let us land." + </p> + <p> + "Oh! but suppose," said the timid Julia, "the surly owner should pounce + upon us, just as we are taking our wine?" + </p> + <p> + "Why then, my love," replied he, "we have only to abandon our wine, and, + like sober members of the Temperance Society—take water." + </p> + <p> + Pulling the wherry close along side the grassy bank, and fastening it + carefully to the stump of an old tree, the whole party landed. + </p> + <p> + "How soft and beautiful is the green-sward here," said the romantic Julia, + indenting the yielding grass with her kid-covered tiny feet; "Does not a + gentleman of the name of Nimrod sing the pleasure of the Turf?" said Emma: + "I wonder if he ever felt it as we do?" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly not," replied Master Dickey, winking at his uncle; "for the + blades of the Turf he describes, are neither so fresh nor so green as + these; and the 'stakes' he mentions are rather different from those + contained in our pigeon-pie." + </p> + <p> + "But I doubt, Dickey," said his uncle, "if his pen ever described a better + race than the present company. The Jenkins's, let me tell you, come of a + good stock, and sport some of the best blood in the country." + </p> + <p> + "Beautiful branches of a noble tree," exclaimed Master Dicky, "but, uncle, + a hard row has made me rather peckish; let us spread the provender. I + think there's an honest hand of pork yonder that is right worthy of a + friendly grasp;—only see if, by a single touch of that magical hand, + I'm not speedily transformed into a boat." + </p> + <p> + "What sort of a boat?" cried Julia. "A cutter, to be sure," replied Master + Dicky, and laughing he ran off with his male companions to bring the + provisions ashore. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the uncle and his niece selected a level spot beneath the + umbrageous trees, and prepared for the unpacking of the edibles. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE PIC-NIC. No. II + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd11_Picnic2" id="Odd11_Picnic2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd11_Picnic2.jpg (92K)" src="images/Odd11%20Picnic2.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the proverbial variety of the climate, there is no nation + under the sun so fond of Pic-Nic parties as the English; and yet how + seldom are their pleasant dreams of rural repasts in the open air fated to + be realized! + </p> + <p> + However snugly they may pack the materials for the feast, the pack + generally gets shuffled in the carriage, and consequently their promised + pleasure proves anything but "without mixture without measure." + </p> + <p> + The jam-tarts are brought to light, and are found to have got a little jam + too much. The bottles are cracked before their time, and the liberal + supplies of pale sherry and old port are turned into a—little + current. + </p> + <p> + They turn out their jar of ghirkins, and find them mixed, and all their + store in a sad pickle. + </p> + <p> + The leg of mutton is the only thing that has stood in the general melee. + </p> + <p> + The plates are all dished, and the dishes only fit for a lunatic asylum, + being all literally cracked. + </p> + <p> + Even the knives and forks are found to ride rusty on the occasion. The + bread is become sop; and they have not even the satisfaction of getting + salt to their porridge, for that is dissolved into briny tears. + </p> + <p> + Like the provisions, they find themselves uncomfortably hamper'd; for they + generally chuse such a very retired spot, that there is nothing to be had + for love or money in the neighbourhood, for all the shops are as distant + as—ninety-ninth cousins! + </p> + <p> + However delightful the scenery may be, it is counterbalanced by the + prospect of starvation. + </p> + <p> + Although on the borders of a stream abounding in fish, they have neither + hook nor line; and even the young gentlemen who sing fail in a catch for + want of the necessary bait. Their spirits are naturally damped by their + disappointment, and their holiday garments by a summer shower; and though + the ducks of the gentlemen take the water as favourably as possible, every + white muslin presently assumes the appearance of a drab, and, becoming a + little limp and dirty, looks as miserable as a lame beggar! + </p> + <p> + In fine, it is only a donkey or a goose that can reasonably expect to + obtain a comfortable feed in a field. It may be very poetical to talk of + "Nature's table-cloth of emerald verdure;" but depend on it, a damask one, + spread over that full-grown vegetable—a mahogany table—is far + preferable. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE BUMPKIN. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd12_Bumpkin" id="Odd12_Bumpkin"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd12_Bumpkin.jpg (58K)" src="images/Odd12%20Bumpkin.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + GILES was the eldest son and heir of Jeremiah Styles—a cultivator of + the soil—who, losing his first wife, took unto himself, at the + mature age of fifty, a second, called by the neighbours, by reason of the + narrowness of her economy, and the slenderness of her body, Jeremiah's + Spare-rib. + </p> + <p> + Giles was a "'cute" lad, and his appetite soon became, under his + step-mother's management, as sharp as his wit; and although he continually + complained of getting nothing but fat, when pork chanced to form a portion + of her dietary, it was evident to all his acquaintance that he really got + lean! His legs, indeed, became so slight, that many of his jocose + companions amused themselves with striking at them with straws as he + passed through the farmyard of a morning. + </p> + <p> + "Whoy, Giles!" remarked one of them, "thee calves ha' gone to grass, lad." + </p> + <p> + "Thee may say that, Jeames," replied Giles; "or d'ye see they did'nt find + I green enough." + </p> + <p> + "I do think now, Giles," said James, "that Mother Styles do feed thee on + nothing, and keeps her cat on the leavings." + </p> + <p> + "Noa, she don't," said Giles, "for we boath do get what we can catch, and + nothing more. Whoy, now, what do you think, Jeames; last Saturday, if the + old 'ooman did'nt sarve me out a dish o' biled horse-beans—" + </p> + <p> + "Horse-beans?" cried James; "lack-a-daisy me, and what did you do?" + </p> + <p> + "Whoy, just what a horse would ha' done, to be sure—" + </p> + <p> + "Eat 'em?" + </p> + <p> + "Noa—I kicked, and said 'Nay,' and so the old 'ooman put herself + into a woundy passion wi' I. 'Not make a dinner of horsebeans, you dainty + dog,' says she; 'I wish you may never have a worse.'—'Noa, mother,' + says I, 'I hope I never shall.' And she did put herself into such a + tantrum, to be sure—so I bolted; whereby, d'ye see, I saved my + bacon, and the old 'ooman her beans. But it won't do. Jeames, I've a + notion I shall go a recruit, and them I'm thinking I shall get into a + reg'lar mess, and get shut of a reg'lar row." + </p> + <p> + "Dang it, it's too bad!" said the sympathising James; "and when do thee + go?" + </p> + <p> + "Next March, to be sure," replied Giles, with a spirit which was natural + to him—indeed, as to any artificial spirit, it was really foreign to + his lips. + </p> + <p> + "But thee are such a scare-crow, Giles," said James; "thee are thin as a + weasel." + </p> + <p> + "My drumsticks," answered he, smiling, "may recommend me to the band—mayhap—for + I do think they'll beat anything." + </p> + <p> + "I don't like sogering neither," said James, thoughtfully. "Suppose the + French make a hole in thee with a bagnet—" + </p> + <p> + "Whoy, then, I shall be 'sewed up,' thee know." + </p> + <p> + "That's mighty foine," replied James, shaking his head; "but I'd rather + not, thank'ye." + </p> + <p> + "Oh! Jeames, a mother-in-law's a greater bore than a bagnet, depend on't; + and it's my mind, it's better to die in a trench than afore an empty + trencher—I'll list." + </p> + <p> + And with this unalterable determination, the half-starved, though still + merry Giles, quitted his companion; and the following month, in pursuance + of the resolve he had made, he enlisted in his Majesty's service. + Fortunately for the youth, he received more billets than bullets, and + consequently grew out of knowledge, although he obtained a world of + information in his travels; and, at the expiration of the war, returned to + his native village covered with laurels, and in the Joyment of the + half-pay of a corporal, to which rank he had been promoted in consequence + of his meritorious conduct in the Peninsula. His father was still living, + but his step-nother was lying quietly in the church-yard. + </p> + <p> + "I hope, father," said the affectionate Giles, "that thee saw her buried + in a deep grave, and laid a stone a-top of her?" + </p> + <p> + "I did, my son." + </p> + <p> + "Then I am happy," replied Giles. <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + [WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL] + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd13_Watty_Williams" id="Odd13_Watty_Williams"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd13_Watty_Williams.jpg (68K)" + src="images/Odd13%20Watty%20Williams.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + WATTY WILLIAMS was a studious youth, with a long nose and a short pair of + trowsers; his delight was in the green fields, for he was one of those + philosophers who can find sermons in stones, and good in everything. One + day, while wandering in a meadow, lost in the perusal of Zimmerman on + Solitude, he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a loud "Moo!" and, + turning about, he descried, to his dismay, a curly-fronted bull making + towards him. + </p> + <p> + Now, Watt., was so good-humoured a fellow, that he could laugh at an Irish + bull, and withal, so staunch a Protestant, that a papal bull only excited + a feeling of pity and contempt; but a bull of the breed which was + careering towards him in such lively bounds, alarmed him beyond all + bounds; and he forthwith scampered over the meadow from the pugnaceous + animal with the most agile precipitation imaginable; for he was not one of + those stout-hearted heroes who could take the bull by the horns—especially + as the animal appeared inclined to contest the meadow with him; and though + so fond of beef (as he naturally was), he declined a round upon the + present occasion. + </p> + <p> + Seeing no prospect of escape by leaping stile or hedge, he hopped the + green turf like an encaged lark, and happily reached a pollard in the + midst of the meadow. + </p> + <p> + Climbing up with the agility of a squirrel, he seated himself on the + knobby summit of the stunted willow. + </p> + <p> + Still retaining his Zimmerman and his senses, he looked down and beheld + the corniferous quadruped gamboling playfully round his singular asylum. + </p> + <p> + "Very pleasant!" exclaimed he; "I suppose, old fellow you want to have a + game at toss!—if so, try it on with your equals, for you must see, + if you have any gumption, that Watty Williams is above you. Aye, you may + roar!—but if I sit here till Aurora appears in the east, you won't + catch me winking. What a pity it is you cannot reflect as well as + ruminate; you would spare yourself a great deal of trouble, and me a + little fright and inconvenience." + </p> + <p> + The animal disdainfully tossed his head, and ran at the tree—and + </p> + <p> + "Away flew the light bark!" + </p> + <p> + in splinters, but the trunk remained unmoved. + </p> + <p> + "Shoo! shoo!" cried Watty, contemptuously; but he found that shoo'ing + horns was useless; the beast still butted furiously against the harmless + pollard. + </p> + <p> + "Hallo!" cried he to a dirty boy peeping at a distance—"Hallo!" but + the lad only looked round, and vanished in an instant. + </p> + <p> + "The little fool's alarmed, I do believe!" said he; "He's only a cow-boy, + I dare say!" And with this sapient, but unsatisfactory conclusion, he + opened his book, and read aloud, to keep up his courage. + </p> + <p> + The bull hearing his voice, looked up with a most melancholy leer, the + corners of his mouth drawn down with an expression of pathetic gravity. + </p> + <p> + Luckily for Watty, the little boy had given information of his dilemma, + and the farmer to whom the bull belonged came with some of his men, and + rescued him from his perilous situation. + </p> + <p> + "The gentleman will stand something to drink, I hope?" said one of the + men. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly" said Watty. + </p> + <p> + "That's no more than right," said the farmer, "for, according to the New + Police Act, we could fine you." + </p> + <p> + "What for?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, we could all swear that when we found you, you were so elevated you + could not walk!" + </p> + <p> + Hereupon his deliverers set up a hearty laugh. + </p> + <p> + Watty gave them half-a-crown; saying, with mock gravity— + </p> + <p> + "I was on a tree, and you took me off—that was kind! I was in a + fright, and you laughed at me; that was uncharitable. Farewell!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + DELICACY! + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd14_Delicacy" id="Odd14_Delicacy"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd14_Delicacy.jpg (70K)" src="images/Odd14%20Delicacy.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + LOUNGING in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer's day, + just at that period when it was the fashion to rail against the beautiful + statue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the Great Captain— + </p> + <p> + "The hero of a hundred fights,"— + </p> + <p> + "How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House," said I, "upon + this tribute to his military achievements." + </p> + <p> + "No doubt," replied B____;" and with all that enthusiasm with which one + man of mettle ever regards another! At the same time, how lightly must he + hold the estimation of the gallant sons of Britain, when he reflects that + he has been compelled to guard his laurelled brow from the random bullets + of a democratic mob, by shot-proof blinds to his noble mansion: this was: + </p> + <p> + 'The unkindest cut of all,' + </p> + <p> + after all his hair-breadth 'scapes, by flood and field, in the service. of + his country, to be compelled to fortify his castle against domestic foes." + </p> + <p> + "A mere passing cloud, that can leave no lasting impression on his great + mind," said I; "while this statue will for ever remain, a memorial of his + great deeds; and yet the complaint is general that the statue is + indelicate—as if, forsooth, this was the first statue exhibited in + 'puris naturalibus' in England. I really regard it as the senseless + cavilling of envious minds." + </p> + <p> + "True," said B____, laughing; "there is a great deal of railing about the + figure, but we can all see through it!" at the same time thrusting his + walking-stick through the iron-fence that surrounds the pedestal. As for + delicacy, it is a word that is used so indiscriminately, and has so many + significations, according to the mode, that few people rightly understand + its true meaning. We say, for instance, a delicate child; and + pork-butchers recommend a delicate pig! Delicacy and indelicacy depend on + the mind of the recipient, and is not so much in the object as the + observer, rely on't. Some men have a natural aptitude in discovering the + indelicate, both in words and figures they appear, in a manner, to seek + for it. I assure you that. I (you may laugh if you will) have often been + put to the blush by the repetition of some harmless phrase, dropped + innocently from my lips, and warped by one of these 'delicate' gentlemen + to a meaning the very reverse of what I intended to convey. Like men with + green spectacles, they look upon every object through an artificial + medium, and give it a colour that has no existence in itself! + </p> + <p> + It was only last week, I was loitering about this very spot, when I + observed, among the crowd of gazers, a dustman dressed in his best, and + his plump doxy, extravagantly bedizened in her holiday clothes, hanging on + his arm. + </p> + <p> + As they turned away, the lady elevated the hem of her rather short + garments a shade too high (as the delicate dustman imagined) above her + ancle. He turned towards her, and, in an audible whisper, said, 'Delicacy, + my love—'delicacy!'—'Lawks, Fred!' replied the damsel, with a + loud guffaw,'—'it's not fashionable!—besides, vot's the good + o' having a fine leg, if one must'nt show it?' + </p> + <p> + So much for opinions on delicacy! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + "NOW JEM—" + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd1_Now_Jem" id="Odd1_Now_Jem"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd1_Now_Jem.jpg (73K)" src="images/Odd15%20Now%20Jem.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />THE tide is agin us, I know, <br />But pull away, + Jem, like a trump; <br />Vot's that? O! my vig, it's a barge— <br />Oh! + criky! but that vos a bump! <br /> <br />How lucky 'twas full o' round + coals, <br />Or ve might ha' capsized her—perhaps! <br />See, the + bargemen are grinning, by goles! <br />I never seed sich wulgar chaps. + <br /> <br />Come, pull away, Jem, like a man, <br />A vherry's a coming + along <br />Vith a couple o' gals all agog— <br />So let us be first + in the throng. <br /> <br />Now put your scull rig'ler in, <br />Don't go for + to make any crabs; <br />But feather your oar, like a nob, <br />And show + 'em ve're nothink but dabs! <br /> <br />The vaterman's leering at us, <br />And + the gals is a giggling so— <br />They take us for green'uns, but ve + <br />Vill soon show 'em how ve can row. <br /> <br />Alas! for poor Bobby's + "show off"— <br />He slipp'd in a trice from his seat— <br />While + his beaver fell into the stream, <br />And the gals laugh'd aloud at his + feat. <br /> <br />For his boots were alone to be seen, <br />As he sprawled + like a crab on its back; <br />While the waterman cried—"Ho! my lads! + <br />I think you'd best try t'other tack!" <br /> <br />Says Bobby—"You + fool, it's your fault; <br />Look—my best Sunday castor is vet: <br />Pull + ashore, then, as fast as you can. <br />I can't row no more—I'm + upset. <br /> <br />"I think that my napper is broke, <br />Abumpin' agin + this wile boat; <br />You may laugh—but I think it's no joke: <br />And + I shan't soon agin be afloat. <br /> <br />"I'll never take you out agin— + <br />I've had quite enough in this bout!" <br />Cried Jem—"Don't be + angry vith me; <br />Sit still, and I'll soon—PUT YOU OUT!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + STEAMING IT TO MARGATE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Steward, bring me a glass of brandy as quick as you can."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd16_Steaming" id="Odd16_Steaming"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd16_Steaming.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd16%20Steaming.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + SINCE the invention of steam, thousands have been tempted to inhale the + saline salubrity of the sea, that would never have been induced to try, + and be tried, by the experiment of a trip. Like hams for the market, every + body is now regularly salted and smoked. The process, too, is so cheap! + The accommodations are so elegant, and the sailors so smart! None of the + rolling roughness of quid-chewing Jack-tars. Jack-tars! pshaw! they are + regular smoke jacks on board a steamer! The Steward ("waiter" by half the + cockneys called) is so ready and obliging; and then the provisions is + excellent. Who would not take a trip to Margate? There's only one thing + that rather adulterates the felicity—a drop of gall in the cup of + mead!—and that is the horrid sea-sickness! learnedly called + nostalgia; but call it by any name you please, like a stray dog, it is + pretty sure to come. + </p> + <p> + The cold perspiration—the internal commotion—the brain's + giddiness—the utter prostration of strength—the Oh! I never + shall forget the death-like feel!—Fat men rolling on the deck, like + fresh caught porpoises; little children floundering about; and white + muslins and parasols vanishing below! The smoking-hot dinner sends up its + fumes, and makes the sick more sick. Soda-water corks are popping and + flying about in every direction, like a miniature battery pointed against + the assaults of the horrid enemy! + </p> + <p> + "Steward!" faintly cries a fat bilious man, "bring me a glass of brandy as + quick as you can." + </p> + <p> + But alas! he who can thus readily summon spirits from the vasty deep, has + no power over the rolling sea, or its reaches! + </p> + <p> + "O! my poor pa!" exclaims the interesting Wilhelmina; and is so overcome, + that she, sweet sympathizer! is soon below pa in the ladies' cabin. In + fact, the greater part of the pleasure-seekers are taken—at full + length. + </p> + <p> + Even young ladies from boarding-school, who are thinking of husbands, + declare loudly against maritime delight! while all the single young men + appear double. + </p> + <p> + The pier at last appears—and the cargo of drooping souls hail it + with delight, and with as grateful a reverence as if they were received by + the greatest peer of the realm! + </p> + <p> + They hurry from the boat as if 'twere Charon's, and they were about + stepping into the fields of Elysium! + </p> + <p> + A change comes o'er the spirit of their dream—their nerves are + braced; and so soon are mortal troubles obliterated from the mind, that in + a few days they are ready again to tempt the terrors of sea-sickness in a + voyage homewards—notwithstanding many of them, in their extremity, + had vowed that they never would return by water, if they outlived the + present infliction; considering, naturally enough, that it was "all up" + with them! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Loud roared the dreadful thunder."—Bay of Biscay.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd17_Peter_1" id="Odd17_Peter_1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd17_Peter_1.jpg (74K)" src="images/Odd17%20Peter%201.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THE good ship Firefly tossed and tumbled on the mountainous waves of the + stormy sea, like a cork in a gutter; and when she could not stem the + waves, politically tried a little tergiversation, and went stern foremost! + The boatswain piped all hands, and poor Peter Simple piped his eye; for + the cry of the whole crew was, that they were all going to Davy Jones's + locker. The waves struck her so repeatedly, that at last she appeared as + ungovernable as a scold in a rage; and as she found she could not, by any + means, strike the storm in the wind, and so silence it, she gave vent to + her fury by striking upon a rock! + </p> + <p> + It was a hard alternative truly; but what could she do? The long boat was + soon alongside, and was not long before it was filled with tars and + salt-water. Alas! she was speedily swamped, and the crew were compelled to + swim for their lives. Peter, however, could not swim, but the sea gave him + a lift in his dilemma, and washed him clean ashore, where he lay for some + time like a veritable lump of salt-Peter! When the storm had abated he + came to himself, and of course found himself in no agreeable company! + </p> + <p> + Sticking his cocked-hat on his head, and grasping his dirk in his hand, he + tottered to a rock, when, seating himself, he philosophically rocked to + and fro. "Oh! vy vos I a midshipman," cried he, "to be wrecked on this + desolate island? I vish I vos at home at Bloomsbury! Oh! that I had but to + turn and embrace my kind, good, benevolent, and much respected + grandmother." As he uttered this pathetic plaint, he heard a chatter—of + which, at first considering that it proceeded from his own teeth, he took + no notice—but the sounds being repeated, he turned his head, and + beheld a huge baboon with a dog-face and flowing hair, grinning with + admiration at his cocked hat. + </p> + <p> + One look was sufficient! he leaped from his seat, and rushed wildly + forward, threading a wood in his way, and turning in and out—in and + out—with the sharpness and facility of a needle in the heel of a + worsted stocking—he never stayed his flight, 'till he fell plump + into the centre of a group of Indians, who received him with a yell!—loud + enough to split the drums of a whole drawing-room full of ears polite. + </p> + <p> + He would have fallen headlong with fear and exhaustion upon the turf, had + not a gentle female caught the slender youth in her arms, and embraced him + with all the energetic affection of a boa-constrictor. + </p> + <p> + Peter trembled like a little inoffensive mouse in the claws of a tabby! + </p> + <p> + At the same time one of the Indians stepped forward, brandishing his + scalping knife. + </p> + <p> + He was the very prototype of an animated bronze Hercules; and, seizing the + poor middy's lank locks, with a peculiar twist, in his iron grasp— + Peter fainted! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"O! what a lost mutton am I!"—Inkle and Yarico.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd18_Peter_2" id="Odd18_Peter_2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd18_Peter_2.jpg (89K)" src="images/Odd18%20Peter%202.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + MOST luckily for poor Peter was it, that he fell into the hands, or rather + the arms, of the Indian maid; for she not only preserved his crop, but his + life. When he recovered from his swoon, he found himself seated beside his + preserver, who, with one arm round his waist, was holding a cocoa-nut, + filled with a refreshing beverage, to his parched and pallid lips. A large + fire blazed in the middle of the wide space occupied by the Indians, and + he beheld the well-known coats and jackets of the brave crew of the + Firefly scattered on the greensward. + </p> + <p> + His heart palpitated-he thought at first that the villainous Indians had + stripped them, and left them to wander in a state of nature through the + tangled and briery woods. He was, however, soon—too soon—convinced + that the savages had dressed them! Yes, that merry crew—who had so + often roasted him—had been roasted by the Indians! + </p> + <p> + From this awful fate the lovely Ootanga had preserved him. She had + suddenly conceived a violent affection for the young white-face; and, + after a long harangue to the chief, her father, his consent was obtained, + and the nuptials were celebrated. + </p> + <p> + "I smell a rat," said Peter—"I'm booked; but better booked than + cooked, at any rate;" and forthwith returned thanks to the company for the + honour they had conferred upon him, in the fashion of an after-dinner + speech, accompanied with as much pantomime as he could manage. + </p> + <p> + A dance and a feast followed, of which Peter partook; but whether rabbit, + squirrel, or monkey, formed the basis of his wedding-supper, he was not + naturalist enough to determine. + </p> + <p> + Ootanga's affection, however, was sufficient to make amends for anything; + she was, in truth, a most killing beauty, for she brought him tigers slain + by her own hands, and made a couch for him of the skins. + </p> + <p> + She caught rattlesnakes for him, and spitch-cooked them for his breakfast. + In fact, there was nothing she left undone to convince him of her + unbounded love. + </p> + <p> + Peter's heart, however, was untouched by all this show of tenderness; for + the fact is, he had already given his heart to a white-face in his own + country. + </p> + <p> + The only consolation he had in his forlorn situation was to talk of her + continually; and, as Ootanga understood not a syllable of what he uttered, + she naturally applied all his tender effusions to herself, and laughed and + grinned, and showed her white teeth, as if she would devour her little + husband. + </p> + <p> + Seated on a tiger skin, with his lawful spouse beside him, arrayed in + shells, bows, feathers, and all the adornments of a savage bride, he still + sighed for home, and plaintively exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + "Here I am, married to the only daughter of the great chief, who would + have roasted me with the rest of our crew, had I not given a joyful + consent. Oh! I wonder if I ever shall get home, and be married to Miss + Wiggins!!!" + </p> + <p> + The lovely wide-mouthed Ootanga patted him fondly on the chin, and dreamed + in her ignorance that he was paying her a compliment in his native + language. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + DOBBS'S "DUCK." + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd19_Dobbs" id="Odd19_Dobbs"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd19_Dobbs.jpg (61K)" src="images/Odd19%20Dobbs.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + IT may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderest + epithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairs + do not go particularly straight. + </p> + <p> + Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were yoked + by Hymen. D. was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of high + spirits—while his wife was one of the most cross-grained and + cantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with—and yet, to hear + the sweet diminutives which they both employed in their dialogues, the + world would have concluded that they were upon the best terms conceivable. + </p> + <p> + "My love," quoth Mrs. D., "I really now should like to take a boat and row + down the river as far as Battersea; the weather is so very fine, and you + know, my dear love, how fond I am of the water." + </p> + <p> + D. could have added (and indeed it was upon the very tip of his tongue)—"mixed + with spirits"—but he wisely restrained the impertinent allusion. + </p> + <p> + "Well, my duck," said he, "you have only to name the day, you know, I am + always ready to please,"—and then, as was his habit, concluded his + gracious speech by singing— "'Tis woman vot seduces all mankind— + <br /> Their mother's teach them the wheedling art." + </p> + <p> + "Hold your nonsense, do," replied Mrs. D____, scarcely able to restrain + her snappish humour, but, fearful of losing the jaunt, politically added, + "Suppose, love, we go to-day—no time like the present, dear." + </p> + <p> + "Thine am I—thine am I," sang the indulgent husband. + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. D____ hereupon ordered the boy to carry down to the stairs a + cargo of brandy, porter, and sandwiches, for the intended voyage, and + taking her dear love in the humour, presently appeared duly decked out for + the trip. + </p> + <p> + Two watermen and a wherry were soon obtained, and Dobbs, lighting his + cigar, alternately smoked and sang, while his duck employed herself most + agreeably upon the sandwiches. + </p> + <p> + The day was bright and sunny, and exceedingly hot; and they had scarcely + rowed as far as the Red-House, when Mrs. D____became rather misty, from + the imbibation of the copious draughts she had swallowed to quench her + thirst. + </p> + <p> + A lighter being a-head, the boatmen turned round, while Dobbs, casting up + his eyes to the blue heavens, was singing, in the hilarity of his heart, + "Hearts as warm as those above, lie under the waters cold," when the boat + heeled, and his duck, who unfortunately could not swim, slipped gently + over the gunwhale, and, unnoticed, sank to rise no more. + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" said Dobbs, when, some months afterwards, he was speaking of the sad + bereavement, "She was a wife! I shall never get such another, and, what's + more, I would not if I could." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd20_Strawberries" id="Odd20_Strawberries"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd20_Strawberries.jpg (79K)" + src="images/Odd20%20Strawberries.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Among all the extraordinary and fantastic dishes compounded for the palate + of Heliogabalus, the Prince of Epicures, that delicious admixture of the + animal and the vegetable—Strawberries and Cream—is never + mentioned in the pages of the veracious chronicler of his gastronomic + feats! + </p> + <p> + Yes! 'tis a lamentable truth, this smooth, oleaginous, and delicately + odorous employment for the silver spoon, was unknown. Should the knowledge + of his loss reach him in the fields of Elysium, will not his steps be + incontinently turned towards the borders of the Styx—his plaintive + voice hail the grim ferryman, while in his most persuasive tones he cries— + </p> + <p> + "Row me back—row me back," + </p> + <p> + that he may enjoy, for a brief space, this untasted pleasure? Ye gods! in + our mind's eye we behold the heartless and unfeeling Charon refuse his + earnest prayer, and see his languid spirit—diluted by disappointment + to insipidity—wandering over the enamelled meads, as flat and + shallow as an overflow in the dank fens of Lincoln. + </p> + <p> + His imagination gloats upon the fragrant invention, and he gulps at the + cheating shadow until Elysium becomes a perfect Hades to his tortured + spirit. + </p> + <p> + Mellow, rich, and toothsome compound! Toothsome did we say? Nay, even + those who have lost their 'molares, incisores,' canine teeth, 'dentes + sapientiae,' and all can masticate and inwardly digest thee! + </p> + <p> + Racy and recherche relish! + </p> + <p> + Thou art— <br />As delicate as first love— <br />As white and + red as a maiden's cheek— <br />As palateable as well-timed flattery— + <br />As light and filling as the gas of a balloon— <br />As smooth as + a courtier— <br />As odorous as the flowers of Jasmin— <br />As + soft as flos silk— <br />As encouraging, without being so illusory, + as Hope— <br />As tempting as green herbage to lean kine— <br />—————— + a Chancery suit to the Bill of a cormorant-lawyer— <br />—————— + a pump to a thirsty paviour— <br />—————— + a sun-flower to a bee— <br />—————— + a ripe melon to a fruit-knife— <br />—————— + a rose to a nightingale—or <br />—————— + a pot of treacle to a blue-bottle— <br />As beautiful to the eye as a + page of virgin-vellum richly illuminated <br />And <br />As satisfactory as + a fat legacy! + </p> + <p> + Talk of nectar! if Jupiter should really wish to give a bonne-bouche to + Juno, Leda, or Venus, or any one of his thousand and one flames, let him + skim the milky-way—transform the instrumental part of the music of + the spheres into 'hautboys,' and compound the only dish worth the roseate + lips of the gentle dames 'in nubibus,' and depend on it, the cups of + Ganymede and Hebe will be rejected for a bowl of—Strawberries and + Cream. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A DAY'S PLEASURE.—No. I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE JOURNEY OUT. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"It's werry hot, but werry pleasant."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd21_Pleasure_1" id="Odd21_Pleasure_1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd21_Pleasure_1.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd21%20Pleasure%201.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />SAYS Mrs. Sibson to her spouse <br />"The days is + hot and fair; <br />I think 'twould do the children good <br />To get a + little hair! <br /> <br />"For ve've been moping here at home <br />And + nothin' seen o' life; <br />Vhile neighbor Jones he takes his jaunts <br />O' + Sundays vith his vife!" <br /> <br />"Vell! vell! my dear," quoth Mr. S____ + <br />"Let's hear vot you purpose; <br />I'm al'ays ready to comply, <br />As + you, my love, vell knows. <br /> <br />"I'll make no bones about the cost; + <br />You knows I never stick <br />About a trifle to amuse, <br />So, + dearest Pol, be quick." <br /> <br />"Vhy, this is it:—I think ve + might <br />To Hornsey have a day; <br />Maria, Peg, and Sal, and Bet <br />Ve'd + pack into a 'chay.' <br /> <br />"Our Jim and Harry both could valk, <br />(God + bless their little feet!) <br />The babby in my arms I'd take— <br />I'm + sure 'twould be a treat;" <br /> <br />Quoth he: "I am unanimous!" <br />And + so the day was fix'd; <br />And forth they started in good trim, <br />Tho' + not with toil umnix'd. <br /> <br />Across his shoulders Sibson bore <br />A + basket with the "grub," <br />And to the "chay" perform'd the "horse," + <br />Lest Mrs. S____ should snub. <br /> <br />Apollo smiled!—that is, + the sun <br />Blazed in a cloudless sky, <br />And Sibson soon was in a + "broil" <br />By dragging of his "fry." <br /> <br />Says S____, "My love, + I'm dry as dust!" <br />When she replied, quite gay, <br />"Then, drink; for + see I've bottled up <br />My spirits for the day." <br /> <br />And from the + basket drew a flask, <br />And eke a footless glass; <br />He quaff'd the + drink, and cried, "Now, dear, <br />I'm strong as ____" let that pass! + <br /> <br />At last they reach'd the destined spot <br />And prop and babes + unpacked; <br />They ran about, and stuff'd, and cramm'd, <br />And really + nothing lack'd. <br /> <br />And Sibson, as he "blew a cloud," <br />Declared, + "It vos a day!" <br />And vow'd that he would come again— <br />Then + call'd for "Vot's to pay?" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A DAY'S PLEASURE.—No. II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE JOURNEY HOME. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Vot a soaking ve shall get."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd22_Pleasure_2" id="Odd22_Pleasure_2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd22_Pleasure_2.jpg (105K)" + src="images/Odd22%20Pleasure%202.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />ACROSS the fields they homeward trudged, when, + lo! a heavy rain <br />Came pouring from the sky; <br />Poor Sibson haul'd, + the children squall'd; alas! it was too plain <br />They would not reach + home dry. <br /> <br />With clay-clogg'd wheels, and muddy heels, and Jim + upon his back, <br />He grumbled on his way; <br />"Vell, blow my vig! this + is a rig!" cried Sibson, "Vell! alack! <br />I shan't forget this day! + <br /> <br />"My shoes is sop, my head's a mop; I'm vet as any think; <br />Oh! + shan't ve cotch a cold!" <br />"Your tongue is glib enough!" his rib + exclaim'd, and made him shrink, <br />—For she was such a scold— + <br /> <br />And in her eye he could descry a spark that well he knew <br />Into + a flame would rise; <br />So he was dumb, silent and glum, as the small + "chay" he drew, <br />And ventured no replies. <br /> <br />Slip, slop, and + slush! past hedge and bush, the dripping mortals go <br />(Tho' 'twas "no + go" S____ thought); <br />"If this 'ere's fun, vy I for vuu," cried he, + with face of woe, <br />"Von't soon again be caught. <br /> <br />"Vet to the + skin, thro' thick and thin, to trapes ain't to my mind; <br />So the next + holiday <br />I vill not roam, but stick at home, for there at least I'll + find <br />The means to soak my clay. <br /> <br />"Tis quite a fag, this + 'chay' to drag—the babbies too is cross, <br />And Mrs. S____ is + riled. <br />'Tis quite a bore; the task is more—more fitt'rer for an + horse; <br />And vith the heat I'm briled! <br /> <br />"No, jaunts adoo! + I'll none o' you!"—and soon they reach'd their home, <br />Wet + through and discontent— <br />"Sure sich a day, I needs must say," + exclaim'd his loving spouse, <br />"Afore I never spent!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + HAMMERING + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Beside a meandering stream <br />There sat an old gentleman fat; + <br />On the top of his head was his wig, <br />On the top of his wig was + his hat."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd2_Hammering" id="Odd2_Hammering"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd2_Hammering.jpg (87K)" src="images/Odd23%20Hammering.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I ONCE followed a venerable gentleman along the banks of a mill-stream, + armed at all points with piscatorial paraphernalia, looking out for some + appropriate spot, with all the coolness of a Spanish inquisitor, + displaying his various instruments of refined torture. He at last perched + himself near the troubled waters, close to the huge revolving wheel, and + threw in his float, which danced upon the mimic waves, and bobbed up and + down, as if preparing for a reel. Patiently he sat; as motionless and + unfeeling as a block. I placed myself under cover of an adjoining hedge, + and watched him for the space of half an hour; but he pulled up nothing + but his baited hook;—what his bait was, I know not; but I suppose, + from the vicinity, he was fishing for a "miller's thumb." Presently, two + mealy-mouthed men, from the mill, made their appearance, cautiously + creeping behind him. + </p> + <p> + I drew myself up in the shadow of the luxuriant quickset to observe their + notions. + </p> + <p> + A paling in the rear offered the rogues an effectual concealment in case + the angler should turn. + </p> + <p> + Close to his seat ran some wood-work, upon which they quietly drew the + broad tails of his coat, and driving in a couple of tenpenny nails, left + the unconscious old gentleman a perfect fixture; to be taken at a + valuation, I suppose, part of his personal property being already "brought + to the hammer!" the clattering clamour of the wheel precluding him from + hearing the careful, but no less effectual taps. I certainly enjoyed the + trick, and longed to see the ridiculous issue; but he was so intent upon + his sport—so fixed that he did not discover the nature of his real + attachment while I remained. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless if he were of a quick and sudden temperament, a snatch of his + humour rent his broad cloth, and he returned home with a woful tail, and + slept not—for his nap was irreparably destroyed! + </p> + <p> + I hate all twaddle; but when I see an old fool, with rod and line, + </p> + <p> + "Sitting like patience on a monument," + </p> + <p> + and selling the remnant of his life below cost price in the pursuit of + angling,—that "art of ingeniously tormenting,"—a feeling, + </p> + <p> + "More in sorrow than in anger," + </p> + <p> + is excited at his profitless inhumanity. + </p> + <p> + Vainly do all the disciples of honest Izaak Walton discourse, in + eulogistic strains, of the pleasure of the sport. I can imagine neither + pleasure nor sport derivable from the infliction of pain upon the meanest + thing endowed with life. + </p> + <p> + This may be deemed Brahminical, but I doubt that man's humanity who can + indulge in the cruel recreation and murder while he smiles. + </p> + <p> + "What, heretical sentiments," exclaims some brother of the angle, (now I + am an angle, but no angler.) "This fellow hath never trudged at early dawn + along the verdant banks of the 'sedgy lea,' and drunk in the dewy + freshness of the morning air. His lines have never fallen in pleasant + places. He has never performed a pilgrimage to Waltham Cross. He is, in + truth, one of those vulgar minds who take more delight in the simple than + the—gentle!—and every line of his deserves a rod!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + PRACTICE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Sweet is the breath of morn when she ascends <br />With charm of + earliest birds."—-MILTON.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd24_Practice" id="Odd24_Practice"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd24_Practice.jpg (74K)" src="images/Odd24%20Practice.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "WELL, this is a morning!" emphatically exclaimed a stripling, with a + mouth and eyes formed by Nature of that peculiar width and power of + distension, so admirably calculated for the expression of stupid wonder or + surprise; while his companion, elevating his nasal organ and projecting + his chin, sniffed the fresh morning breeze, as they trudged through the + dewy meadows, and declared that it was exactly for all the world + similar-like to reading Thomson's Seasons! In which apt and appropriate + simile the other concurred. + </p> + <p> + "Tom's a good fellow to lend us his gun," continued he—"I only hope + it ain't given to tricking, that's all. I say, Sugarlips, keep your powder + dry." + </p> + <p> + "Leave me alone for that," replied Sugarlips; "I know a thing or two, + although this is the first time that ever I have been out. What a + scuffling the birds do make"—added he, peeping into the cage which + they had, as a precautionary measure, stocked with sparrows, in order that + they might not be disappointed in their sport—"How they long to be + on the wing!" + </p> + <p> + "I'll wing 'em, presently!" cried his comrade, with a vaunting air— + "and look if here ain't the very identical spot for a display of my skill. + Pick out one of the best and biggest, and tie up a-top of yonder stile, + and you shall soon have a specimen of my execution." Sugarlips quickly did + his bidding. + </p> + <p> + "Now—come forward and stand back! What do ye think o' that, ey?" + said the sportsman—levelling his gun, throwing back his head, + closing his sinister ocular, and stretching out his legs after the manner + of the Colossus of Rhodes—"Don't you admire my style?" + </p> + <p> + "Excellent!" said Sugarlips—"But I think I could hit it." + </p> + <p> + "What?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, the stile to be sure." + </p> + <p> + "Keep quiet, can't you—Now for it—" and, trembling with + eagerness, his hand pulled the trigger, but no report followed. "The deuce + is in the gun," cried he, lowering it, and examining the lock; "What can + ail it?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, I'll be shot if that ain't prime," exclaimed Sugarlips, laughing + outright. + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean?" + </p> + <p> + "I've only forgot the priming—that's all." + </p> + <p> + "There's a pretty fellow, you are, for a sportsman." + </p> + <p> + "Well, it's no matter as it happens; for, though 'Time and tide wait for + no man,' a sparrow tied must, you know. There! that will do." + </p> + <p> + "Sure you put the shot in now?" + </p> + <p> + "If you put the shot into Dicky as surely, he'll never peck groundsel + again, depend on it." + </p> + <p> + Again the "murderous tube" was levelled; Sugarlips backed against an + adjoining wall, with a nervous adhesiveness that evidently proved him less + fearful of a little mortar than a great gun! + </p> + <p> + "That's right; out of the way, Sugarlips; I am sure I shall hit him this + time." And no sooner had he uttered this self-congratulatory assurance + (alas! not life-assurance!) than a report (most injurious to the innocent + cock-sparrow) was heard in the neighbourhood! + </p> + <p> + "Murder!—mur-der!" roared a stentorian voice, which made the + criniferous coverings of their craniums stand on end + </p> + <p> + "Like quills upon the fretful porcupine." + </p> + <p> + In an instant the sportsman let fall his gun, and Sugarlips ran affrighted + towards the stile. He found it really "vox et preterea nihil;" for a few + feathers of the bird alone were visible: he had been blown to nothing; + and, peeping cautiously round the angle of the wall, he beheld a portly + gentleman in black running along with the unwieldy gait of a chased + elephant. + </p> + <p> + "Old Flank'em, of the Finishing Academy, by jingo!" exclaimed Sugarlips. + "It's a mercy we didn't finish him! Why, he must actually have been on the + point of turning the corner. I think we had better be off; for, if the old + dominie catches us, he will certainly liberate our sparrows, and—put + us in the cage!" + </p> + <p> + But, where's the spoil?" + </p> + <p> + "Spoil, indeed!" cried Sugarlips; "you've spoiled him nicely. I've an + idea, Tom, you were too near, as the spendthrift nephew said of his + miserly uncle. If you can't get an aim at a greater distance, you'd never + get a name as a long shot—that's my mind." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + PRECEPT. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd25_Precept" id="Odd25_Precept"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd25_Precept.jpg (82K)" src="images/Odd25%20Precept.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Uncle Samson was a six-bottle man. His capacity was certainly great, + whatever might be said of his intellect; for I have seen him rise without + the least appearance of elevation, after having swallowed the customary + half dozen. He laughed to scorn all modern potations of wishy-washy French + and Rhine wines—deeming them unfit for the palate of a true-born + Englishman. Port, Sherry, and Madeira were his only tipple—the rest, + he would assert, were only fit for finger-glasses! + </p> + <p> + —He was of a bulky figure, indeed a perfect Magnum among men, with a + very apoplectic brevity of neck, and a logwood complexion,—and + though a staunch Church-of-England-man, he might have been mistaken, from + his predilection for the Port, to be a true Mussulman. To hear him + discourse upon the age of his wines—the 'pinhole,' the 'crust,' the + 'bees'-wing,' etc., was perfectly edifying—and every man who could + not imbibe the prescribed quantum, became his butt. To temperance and + tea-total societies he attributed the rapid growth of radicalism and + dissent. + </p> + <p> + "Water," he would say, with a sort of hydrophobic shudder, "is only a fit + beverage for asses!"—"To say a man could drink like a fish, was once + the greatest encomium that a bon-vivant could bestow upon a brother + Bacchanalian—but, alas! in this matter-of-fact and degenerate age, + men do so literally—washing their gills with unadulterated water!—Dropsy + and water on the chest must be the infallible result! If such an order of + things continue, all the puppies in the kingdom, who would perhaps have + become jolly dogs in their time, will be drowned! Yes, they'll inevitably + founder, like a water-logged vessel, in sight of port. These + water-drinkers will not have a long reign. They would feign persuade us + that 'Truth lies at the bottom of a well,'—lies, indeed! I tell you + Horace knew better, and that his assertion of 'There is truth in wine,' + was founded on experience—his draughts had no water-mark in 'em, + depend on it." + </p> + <p> + He was a great buyer of choice "Pieces," and his cellar contained one of + the best stocks in the kingdom, both in the wood and bottle. Poor Uncle!—he + has now been some years "in the wood" himself, and snugly stowed in the + family vault! + </p> + <p> + Having been attacked with a severe cold, he was compelled to call in the + Doctor, who sent him a sudorific in three Lilliputian bottles; but + although he received the advice of his medical friend, he followed + Shakspeare's, + </p> + <p> + "Throw physic to the dogs," + </p> + <p> + and prescribed for himself a bowl of wine-whey as a febrifuge. His + housekeeper remonstrated, but he would have his 'whey,' and he died! + leaving a handsome fortune, and two good-looking nephews to follow him to + the grave. + </p> + <p> + Myself and Cousin (the two nephews aforesaid) were vast favourites with + the old gentleman, and strenuously did he endeavour to initiate us in the + art of drinking, recounting the feats of his youth, and his drinking-bouts + with my father, adding, with a smile, "But you'll never be a par with, + your Uncle, Ned, till you can carry the six bottles under your waistcoat." + </p> + <p> + My head was certainly stronger than my Cousin's; he went as far as the + third bottle—the next drop was on the floor! Now I did once manage + the fourth bottle—but then—I must confess I was obliged to + give it up! + </p> + <p> + "Young men," would my Uncle say, "should practice 'sans intermission,' + until they can drink four bottles without being flustered, then they will + be sober people; for it won't be easy to make them tipsy—a drunken + man I abominate!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + EXAMPLE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"You see I make no splash!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd26_Example" id="Odd26_Example"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd26_Example.jpg (91K)" src="images/Odd26%20Example.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THERE are some individuals so inflated with self-sufficiency, and + entertain such an overweaning opinion of their skill in all matters, that + they must needs have a finger in every pie. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps a finer specimen than old V____, of this genius of egotistic, + meddling mortals, never existed. He was a man well-to-do in the world, and + possessed not only a large fortune, but a large family. + </p> + <p> + He had an idea that no man was better qualified to bring up his children + in the way they should go; and eternally plagued the obsequious tutors of + his sons with his novel mode of instilling the rudiments of the Latin + tongue, although he knew not a word of the language; and the obedient + mistresses of his daughters with his short road to attaining a perfection + in playing the piano-forte, without knowing a note of the gamut: but what + could they say; why, nothing more or less than they were 'astonished;' + which was vague enough to be as true as it was flattering. + </p> + <p> + And then he was so universally clever, that he even interfered in the + culinary department of his household, instructing the red-elbowed, greasy, + grinning Cook, in the sublime art of drawing, stuffing, and roasting a + goose, for which she certainly did not fail to roast the goose (her + master) when she escaped to the regions below. + </p> + <p> + Even his medical attendant was compelled to acknowledge the efficacy of + his domestic prescriptions of water-gruel and honey in catarrhs, and + roasted onions in ear-aches, and sundry other simple appliances; and, in + fine, found himself, on most occasions, rather a 'consulting surgeon,' + than an apothecary, for he was compelled to yield to the man who had + studied Buchan's and Graham's Domestic Medicine. And the only consolation + he derived from his yielding affability, were the long bills occasioned by + the mistakes of this domestic quack, who was continually running into + errors, which required all his skill to repair. Nay, his wife's + mantua-maker did not escape his tormenting and impertinent advice; for he + pretended to a profound knowledge in all the modes, from the time of + Elizabeth to Victoria, and deemed his judgment in frills, flounces, and + corsages, as undeniable and infallible. + </p> + <p> + Of course the sempstress flattered his taste; for his wife, poor soul! she + soon had tact enough to discover, had no voice in the business. + </p> + <p> + His eldest son, George, had a notion that he could angle. Old V____ + immediately read himself up in Walton, and soon convinced—himself, + that he was perfect in that line, and quite capable of teaching the whole + art and mystery. + </p> + <p> + "See, George," said he, when they had arrived at a convenient spot for + their first attempt, "this is the way to handle your tackle; drop it + gently into the water,—so!" and, twirling the line aloft, he hooked + the branches of an overhanging tree!—sagaciously adding, "You see I + make no splash! and hold your rod in this manner!" + </p> + <p> + George was too much afraid of his imperious father, to point out his + error, and old V____ consequently stood in the broiling sun for a full + quarter of an hour, before he discovered that he had caught a birch + instead of a perch! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd27_Musical" id="Odd27_Musical"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd27_Musical.jpg (61K)" src="images/Odd27%20Musical.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Matter-of-fact people read the story of Orpheus, and imagine that his + "charming rocks" and "soothing savage beasts," is a mere fabulous + invention. No such thing: it is undoubtedly founded on fact. Nay, we could + quote a thousand modern instances of the power of music quite as + astonishing. + </p> + <p> + One most true and extraordinary occurrence will suffice to establish the + truth of our proposition beyond a doubt. Molly Scraggs was a cook in a + first-rate family, in the most aristocratic quarter of the metropolis. + </p> + <p> + The master and mistress were abroad, and Molly had nothing to do but to + indulge her thoughts; and, buried as she was in the pleasant gloom and + quiet of an underground kitchen, nothing could possibly be more favourable + to their developement. She was moreover exceedingly plump, tender, and + sentimental, and had had a lover, who had proved false to his vows. + </p> + <p> + In this eligible situation and temper for receiving soft impressions, she + sat negligently rocking herself in her chair, and polishing the lid of a + copper saucepan! when the sweet, mellifluous strains of an itinerant band + struck gently upon the drum of her ear. "Wapping Old Stairs" was + distinctly recognized, and she mentally repeated the words so applicable + to her bereaved situation. + </p> + <p> + "Your Molly has never proved false she declares," 'till the tears + literally gushed from her "blue, blue orbs," and trickled down her plump + and ruddy cheeks; but scarcely had she plunged into the very depths of the + pathos induced by the moving air, which threatened to throw her into a + gentle swoon, or kicking hysterics, when her spirit was aroused by the + sudden change of the melancholy ditty, to the rampant and lively tune, + with the popular burden of, "Turn about and wheel about, and jump Jim + Crow!" + </p> + <p> + This certainly excited her feelings; but, strange to say, it made her leap + from her chair, exasperated, as it were, by the sudden revulsion, and rush + into the area. + </p> + <p> + "Don't, for goodness sake, play that horrid 'chune,'" said Molly, + emphatically addressing the minstrels. + </p> + <p> + The 'fiddle' immediately put his instrument under his arm, and, touching + the brim of his napless hat, scraped a sort of bow, and smilingly asked + the cook to name any other tune she preferred. + </p> + <p> + "Play us," said she, "'Oh! no, we never mention her,' or summat o' that + sort; I hate jigs and dances mortally." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, marm," replied the 'fiddle,' obsequiously; and, whispering the + 'harp' and 'bass,' they played the air to her heart's content. + </p> + <p> + In fact, if one might guess by the agility with which she ran into the + kitchen, she was quite melted; and, returning with the remnants of a + gooseberry pie and the best part of a shoulder of mutton, she handed them + to the musicians. + </p> + <p> + "Thanky'e, marm, I'm sure," said the 'bass,' sticking his teeth into the + pie-crust. + </p> + <p> + "The mutton 's rayther fat, but it 's sweet, at any rate!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, marm," said the 'fiddle;' "it's too fat for your stomach, I'm sure, + marm;" and consigned it to his green-baize fiddle-case. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said Molly,—"play us, 'Drink to me only,' and I'll draw you a + mug o' table-ale." + </p> + <p> + "You're vastly kind," said the 'fiddle;' "it's a pleasure to play anythink + for you, marm, you've sich taste;" and then turning to his comrades, he + added, with a smile—"By goles! if she ain't the woppingest cretur as + ever I set eyes on—" + </p> + <p> + The tune required was played, and the promised ale discussed. The 'bass,' + with a feeling of gratitude, voted that they should give a parting air + unsolicited. + </p> + <p> + "Vot shall it be?" demanded the 'harp.' + </p> + <p> + "Vy, considering of her size," replied the 'fiddle,' "I thinks as nothink + couldn't be more appropriate than: + </p> + <p> + 'Farewell to the mountain !'" + </p> + <p> + and, striking up, they played the proposed song, marching on well pleased + with the unexpected appreciation of their musical talent by the kind, and + munificent Molly Scraggs! <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE EATING HOUSE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd28_Eating_House" id="Odd28_Eating_House"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd28_Eating_House.jpg (78K)" + src="images/Odd28%20Eating%20House.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + FROM twelve o'clock until four, the eating houses of the City are crammed + with hungry clerks. + </p> + <p> + Bills of fare have not yet been introduced,—the more's the pity; + but, in lieu thereof, you are no sooner seated in one of the snug inviting + little settles, with a table laid for four or six, spread with a snowy + cloth, still bearing the fresh quadrangular marks impressed by the mangle, + and rather damp, than the dapper, ubiquitous waiter, napkin in hand, + stands before you, and rapidly runs over a detailed account of the + tempting viands all smoking hot, and ready to be served up. + </p> + <p> + "Beef, boiled and roast; veal and ham; line of pork, roast; leg boiled, + with pease pudding; cutlets, chops and steaks, greens, taters, and pease," + etc. etc. + </p> + <p> + Some are fastidious, and hesitate; the waiter, whose eyes are 'all about + him,' leaves you to meditate and decide, while he hastens to inform a new + arrival, and mechanically repeats his catalogue of dainties; and, bawling + out at the top of his voice, "One roast beaf and one taters," you echo his + words, and he straightway reports your wishes in the same voice and manner + to the invisible purveyors below, and ten to one but you get a piece of + boiled fat to eke out your roast meat. + </p> + <p> + In some houses, new and stale bread, at discretion, are provided; and many + a stripling, lean and hungry as a greyhound, with a large appetite and a + small purse, calls for a small plate, without vegetables, and fills up the + craving crannies with an immoderate proportion of the staff of life, while + the reckoning simply stands, "one small plate 6d., one bread 1d., one + waiter 1d.;" and at this economical price satisfies the demands of his + young appetite. + </p> + <p> + But still, cheap as this appears, he pays it the aggregate, for there are + frequently 500 or 600 diners daily at these Establishments; and the + waiter, who generally purchases his place, and provides glass, cloths, + etc. not only makes a 'good thing of it,' but frequently accumulates + sufficient to set up on his own account, in which case, he is almost sure + of being followed by the regular customers. + </p> + <p> + For he is universally so obliging, and possesses such a memory, and an + aptness in discovering the various tastes of his visitors, that he seldom + fails in making most of the every-day feeders his fast friends. + </p> + <p> + "Tom, bring me a small plate of boiled beef and potatoes," cries one of + his regulars. Placing his hand upon the table-cloth; and knocking off the + crumbs with his napkin, he bends to the gentleman, and in a small. + confidential voice informs him, + </p> + <p> + "The beef won't do for you, Sir,—it's too low, it's bin in cut a + hour. Fine ribs o' lamb, jist up." + </p> + <p> + "That will do, Tom," says the gratified customer. + </p> + <p> + "Grass or spinach, Sir? fine 'grass,'—first this season." + </p> + <p> + "Bring it, and quick, Tom," replies the gentleman, pleased with the + assiduous care he takes in not permitting him to have an indifferent cut + of a half cold joint. + </p> + <p> + The most extraordinary part of the business is, the ready manner in which + he 'casts up' all you have eaten, takes the reckoning, and then is off + again in a twinkling. + </p> + <p> + A stranger, and one unaccustomed to feed in public, is recognised in a + moment by his uneasy movements. He generally slinks into the nearest + vacant seat, and is evidently taken aback by the apparently abrupt and + rapid annunciation of the voluble and active waiter, and, in the hurry and + confusion, very frequently decides upon the dish least pleasant to his + palate. + </p> + <p> + A respectable gentleman of the old school, of a mild and reverend + appearance, and a lean and hungry figure, once dropped into a settle where + we were discussing a rump steak and a shallot, tender as an infant, and + fragrant as a flower garden! Tom pounced upon him in a moment, and uttered + the mystic roll. The worthy senior was evidently confused and startled, + but necessity so far overcame his diffidence that he softly said, + </p> + <p> + "A small portion of veal and ham, well done." + </p> + <p> + Tom, whirled round, continuing the application of his eternal napkin to a + tumbler which he was polishing, bawled out in a stentorian voice, + </p> + <p> + "Plate o' weal, an' dam well done!" + </p> + <p> + We shall never sponge from the slate of our memory the utter astonishment + expressed in the bland countenance of the startled old gentleman at this + peculiar echo of his wishes. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + SCENE X.(b) + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"This is a werry lonely spot, Sir; I wonder you ar'n't afeard of + being robbed."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Scene_10b_Lonely_Spot" id="Scene_10b_Lonely_Spot"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Scene_10b_Lonely_Spot.jpg (87K)" + src="images/Scene10b%20Lonely%20Spot.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />JOB Timmins was a tailor bold, <br />And well he + knew his trade, <br />And though he was no fighting man <br />Had often + dress'd a blade! <br /> <br />Quoth he, one day—"I have not had <br />A + holiday for years, <br />So I'm resolv'd to go and fish, <br />And cut for + once the shears." <br /> <br />So donning quick his Sunday's suit, <br />He + took both rod and line, <br />And bait for fish—and prog for one, + <br />And eke a flask of wine. <br /> <br />For he was one who loved to live, + <br />And said—"Where'er I roam <br />I like to feed—and though + abroad, <br />To make myself at home." <br /> <br />Beneath a shady grove of + trees <br />He sat him down to fish, <br />And having got a cover, he <br />Long'd + much to get a dish. <br /> <br />He cast his line, and watch'd his float, + <br />Slow gliding down the tide; <br />He saw it sink! he drew it up, <br />And + lo! a fish he spied. <br /> <br />He took the struggling gudgeon off, <br />And + cried—"I likes his looks, <br />I wish he'd live—but fishes die + <br />Soon as they're—off the hooks!" <br /> <br />At last a dozen more + he drew— <br />(Fine-drawing 'twas to him!) <br />But day past by—and + twilight came, <br />All objects soon grew dim. <br /> <br />"One more!" he + cried, "and then I'll pack, <br />And homeward trot to sup,"— <br />But + as he spoke, he heard a tread, <br />Which caused him to look up. <br /> + <br />Poor Timmins trembled as he gazed <br />Upon the stranger's face; + <br />For cut purse! robber! all too plain, <br />His eye could therein + trace. <br /> <br />"Them's werry handsome boots o' yourn," <br />The ruffian + smiling cried, <br />"Jist draw your trotters out—my pal— <br />And + we'll swop tiles, besides." <br /> <br />"That coat too, is a pretty fit— + <br />Don't tremble so—for I <br />Von't rob you of a single fish, + <br />I've other fish to fry." <br /> <br />Poor Timmins was obliged to yield + <br />Hat, coat, and boots—in short <br />He was completely stripp'd—and + paid <br />Most dearly for his "sport." <br /> <br />And as he homeward went, + he sigh'd— <br />"Farewell to stream and brook; <br />O! yes, they'll + catch me there again <br />A fishing—with a hook!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + GONE! + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd29_Gone" id="Odd29_Gone"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd29_Gone.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd29%20Gone.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />ALONG the banks, at early dawn, <br />Trudged + Nobbs and Nobbs's son, <br />With rod and line, resolved that day <br />Great + fishes should be won. <br /> <br />At last they came unto a bridge, <br />Cried + Nobbs, "Oh! this is fine!" <br />And feeling sure 'twould answer well, + <br />He dropp'd the stream a line. <br /> <br />"We cannot find a fitter + place, <br />If twenty miles we march; <br />Its very look has fix'd my + choice, <br />So knowing and—so arch!" <br /> <br />He baited and he + cast his line, <br />When soon, to his delight, <br />He saw his float bob + up and down, <br />And lo! he had a bite! <br /> <br />"A gudgeon, Tom, I + think it is!" <br />Cried Nobbs, "Here, take the prize; <br />It weighs a + pound—in its own scales, <br />I'm quite sure by its size." <br /> + <br />He cast again his baited hook, <br />And drew another up! <br />And + cried, "We are in luck to-day, <br />How glorious we shall sup!" <br /> + <br />All in the basket Tommy stow'd <br />The piscatory spoil; <br />Says + Nobbs, "We've netted two at least, <br />Albeit we've no toil." <br /> <br />Amazed + at his own luck, he threw <br />The tempting bait again, <br />And presently + a nibble had— <br />A bite! he pull'd amain! <br /> <br />His rod + beneath the fish's weight <br />Now bent just like a bow, <br />"What's + this?" cried Nobbs; his son replied, <br />"A salmon, 'tis, I know." <br /> + <br />And sure enough a monstrous perch, <br />Of six or seven pounds, <br />He + from the water drew, whose bulk <br />Both dad and son confounds. <br /> + <br />"O! Gemini!" he said, when he <br />"O! Pisces!" should have cried; + <br />And tremblingly the wriggling fish <br />Haul'd to the bridge's side. + <br /> <br />When, lo! just as he stretched his hand <br />To grasp the + perch's fin, <br />The slender line was snapp'd in twain, <br />The perch + went tumbling in! <br /> <br /> "Gone! gone! by gosh!" scream'd Nobbs, while + Tom <br />Too eager forward bent, <br />And, with a kick, their basket quick + <br />Into the river sent. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd30_Joker_1" id="Odd30_Joker_1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd30_Joker_1.jpg (91K)" src="images/Odd30%20Joker%201.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Those wags who are so fond of playing off their jokes upon others, require + great skill and foresight to prevent the laugh being turned against + themselves. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith was an inveterate joker, and his jokes were, for the most part, + of the practical kind. He had a valuable tortoiseshell cat, whose beauty + was not only the theme of praise with all the old maids in the + neighbourhood, but her charms attracted the notice of numerous feline + gentlemen dwelling in the vicinity, who were, nocturnally, wont to pay + their devoirs by that species of serenades, known under the cacophonous + name of caterwauling. + </p> + <p> + One very ugly Tom, (who, it was whispered abroad, was a great-grandfather, + and scandalously notorious for gallantries unbecoming a cat of his age) + was particularly obnoxious to our hero; and, in an unlucky moment, he + resolved to 'pickle him,' as he facetiously termed it. Now his process of + pickling consisted in mixing a portion of prussic acid in milk. Taking the + precaution to call in his own pet and favorite, he placed the potion in + the accustomed path of her long-whiskered suitor. Tom finding the coast + clear slipped his furry body over the wall, and dropped gently as a lady's + glove into the garden, and slily smelling the flower-borders, as if he + were merely amusing himself in the elegant study of botany, stealthily + approached the house, and uttering a low plaintive 'miau,' to attract the + attention of his dear Minx, patiently awaited the appearance of his + true-love. + </p> + <p> + Minx heard the voice she loved so well, and hurried to meet her ancient + beau. A slight noise, however, alarmed his timidity, and he scaled the + wall in a twinkling. + </p> + <p> + Presently the screams of the maid assured him that 'something had taken + place;' and when he heard the words, "Oh! the cat! the cat!" he felt quite + certain that the potion had taken effect. He walked deliberately down + stairs, and behold! there lay Miss Minx, his own favorite, struggling in + the agonies of death, on the parlor rug. The fact is, he had shut the + doors, but forgotten that the window was open, and the consequence was, + the loss of poor Minx, who had drunk deep of the malignant poison designed + for her gallant. + </p> + <p> + This was only one of a thousand tricks that had miscarried. + </p> + <p> + Having one day ascertained that his acquaintance, Tom Wilkins, was gone + out 'a-shooting,' he determined to way-lay him on his return. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful moonlight night in the latter end of October. + Disguising himself in a demoniac mask, a pair of huge wings, and a forked + tail, he seated himself on a stile in the sportsman's path. + </p> + <p> + Anon he espied the weary and unconscious Tom approaching, lost in the + profundity of thought, and though not in love, ruminating on every miss he + had made in that day's bootless trudge. + </p> + <p> + He almost, touched the stile before his affrighted gaze encountered this + 'goblin damned.' + </p> + <p> + His short crop bristled up, assuming the stiffness of a penetrating hair + brush. + </p> + <p> + For an instant his whole frame appeared petrified, and the tide and + current of his life frozen up in thick-ribbed ice. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith, meanwhile, holding out a white packet at arm's length, + exclaimed in a sepulchral tone, + </p> + <p> + "D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Odd31_Joker_2" id="Odd31_Joker_2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd31_Joker_2.jpg (80K)" src="images/Odd31%20Joker%202.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + AWFULLY ponderous as the words struck upon the tightened drum of Tom's + auriculars, they still tended to arouse his fainting spirit. + </p> + <p> + "Mer-mer-mercy on us!" ejaculated he, and shrank back a pace or two, still + keeping his dilating optics fixed upon the horrible spectre. + </p> + <p> + "D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" repeated Jim Smith. + </p> + <p> + "Mur-mur-der!" screamed Tom; and, mechanically raising his gun for action + of some kind appeared absolutely necessary to keep life within him, he + aimed at the Tempter, trembling in every joint. + </p> + <p> + Jim, who had as usual never calculated upon such a turning of the tables, + threw off his head—his assumed one, of course, and, leaping from the + stile, cried aloud— + </p> + <p> + "Oh! Tom, don't shoot—don't shoot!—it's only me—Jim + Smith!" + </p> + <p> + Down dropped the gun from the sportsman's grasp. + </p> + <p> + "Oh! you fool! you—you—considerable fool!" cried he, + supporting himself on a neighbouring hawthorn, which very kindly and + considerately lent him an arm on the occasion. "It's a great mercy—a + very great mercy, Jim—as we wasn't both killed!—another + minute, only another minute, and—but it won't bear thinking on." + </p> + <p> + "Forgive me, Tom," said the penitent joker; "I never was so near a corpse + afore. If I didn't think the shots were clean through me, and that's + flat." + </p> + <p> + "Sich jokes," said Tom, "is onpardonable, and you must be mad." + </p> + <p> + "I confess I'm out of my head, Tom," said Jim, who was dangling the huge + mask in his hand, and fast recovering from the effects of his fright. + "Depend on it, I won't put myself in such a perdicament again, Tom. No, no—no + more playing the devil; for, egad! you had liked to have played the devil + with me." + </p> + <p> + "A joke's a joke," sagely remarked Tom, picking up his hat and fowling + piece. + </p> + <p> + "True!" replied Smith; "but, I think, after all, I had the greatest cause + for being in a fright. You had the best chance, at any rate; for I could + not have harmed you, whereas you might have made a riddle of me." + </p> + <p> + "Stay, there!" answered Tom; "I can tell you, you had as little cause for + fear as I had, you come to that; for the truth is, the deuce a bit of + powder or shot either was there in the piece!" + </p> + <p> + "You don't say so!" said Jim, evidently disappointed and chop-fallen at + this discovery of his groundless fears. "Well, I only wish I'd known it, + that's all!"—then, cogitating inwardly for a minute, he continued—"but, + I say, Tom, you won't mention this little fright of yours?" + </p> + <p> + "No; but I'll mention the great fright—of Jim Smith—rely upon + it," said Tom, firmly; and he kept his word so faithfully, that the next + day the whole story was circulated, with many ingenious additions, to the + great annoyance of the practical joker. <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Here we go up—up—up;</i> <br /><i>And here we go down—down—down."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <a name="Odd32_Whiting" id="Odd32_Whiting"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Odd32_Whiting (89K)" src="images/Odd32%20Whiting.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "VARIETY," as Cowper says, "is the very spice of life"—and + certainly, at Margate, there is enough, in all conscience, to delight the + most fastidious of pleasure-hunters. + </p> + <p> + There sailors ply for passengers for a trip in their pleasure boats, + setting forth all the tempting delights of a fine breeze—and + woe-betide the unfortunate cockney who gets in the clutches of a pair of + plyers of this sort, for he becomes as fixed as if he were actually in a + vice, frequently making a virtue of necessity, and stepping on board, when + he had much better stroll on land. + </p> + <p> + Away he goes, on the wings of the wind, like—a gull! Should he be a + knave, it may probably be of infinite service to society, for he is likely + ever afterwards to forswear craft of any kind! + </p> + <p> + Donkies too abound, as they do in most watering placesand, oh! what a many + asses have we seen mounted, trotting along the beach and cliffs! + </p> + <p> + The insinuating address of the boatmen is, however, irresistible; and if + they cannot induce you to make a sail to catch the wind, they will set + forth, in all the glowing colors of a dying dolphin, the pleasurable sport + of catching fish! + </p> + <p> + They tell you of a gentleman, who, "the other day, pulled up, in a single + hour, I don't know how many fish, weighing I don't know how much." And + thus baited, some unwise gentleman unfortunately nibbles, and he is + caught. A bargain is struck, 'the boat is on the shore,' the lines and + hooks are displayed, and the victim steps in, scarcely conscious of what + he is about, but full well knowing that he is going to sea! + </p> + <p> + They put out to sea, and casting their baited hooks, the experienced + fisherman soon pulls up a fine lively whiting. + </p> + <p> + "Ecod!" exclaims the cockney, with dilated optics, "this is fine—why + that 'ere fish is worth a matter of a shilling in London—Do tell me + how you cotched him." + </p> + <p> + "With a hook!" replied the boatman. + </p> + <p> + "To be sure you did—but why did'nt he bite mine?" + </p> + <p> + "'Cause he came t'other side, I s'pose." + </p> + <p> + "Vell, let me try that side then," cries the tyro, and carefully changes + his position.—"Dear me, this here boat o'yourn wobbles about + rayther, mister." + </p> + <p> + "Nothing, sir, at all; it's only the motion of the water." + </p> + <p> + "I don't like it, tho'; I can tell you, it makes me feel all over + somehow." + </p> + <p> + "It will go off, sir, in time; there's another," and he pulls in another + wriggling fish, and casts him at the bottom of the boat. "Well, that's + plaguey tiresome, any how—two! and I've cotched nothin' yet—how + do you do it?" + </p> + <p> + "Just so—throw in your hook, and bide a bit—and you'll be + sure, sir, to feel when there's any thing on your hook; don't you feel any + thing yet?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, yes, I feels werry unwell!" cries the landsman; and, bringing up his + hook and bait, requests the good-natured boatman to pull for shore, 'like + vinkin,'—which request; the obliging fellow immediately complies + with, having agreeably fished at the expense of his fare; and, landing his + whitings and the flat, laughs in his sleeve at the qualms of his customer. + </p> + <p> + But there is always an abundant crop of such fools as he, who pretend to + dabble in a science, in utter ignorance of the elements; while, like Jason + of old, the wily boatman finds a sheep with a golden fleece,— + although his brains are always too much on the alert to be what is + technically termed—wool-gathering. Some people are desirous of + seeing every thing; and many landsmen have yet to learn, that they may see + a deal, without being a-board! <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + ANDREW MULLINS.<br />—AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I.—Introductory. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins1" id="Mullins1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins1.jpg (62K)" src="images/Mullins1.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THERE is certainly no style of writing requiring so much modest assurance + as autobiography; a position which, I am confident, neither Lord Cherbury, + nor Vidocq, or any other mortal blessed with an equal developement of the + organ of self-esteem, can or could deny. + </p> + <p> + HOME, ("sweet home,")—in his Douglas—gives, perhaps, one of + the most concise and concentrated specimens extant, of this species of + composition. With what an imposing air does his youthful hero blow his own + trumpet in those well-known lines, commencing, + </p> + <p> + "My name is Norval." + </p> + <p> + Although a mere cock-boat in comparison with these first-rates, I think I + may safely follow in their wake. Should the critics, however, condescend + to carp at me for likening myself to a cock-boat, I have no objection, if + by a twist of their ingenuity, they can prove me to be a little funny! + </p> + <p> + Economy was one of the most prominent characteristics of the family from + which I sprang. Now, some authors would weary their indulgent readers with + a flatulent chapter upon the moral beauty of this virtue; but as my first + wish is to win favor by my candor, I must honestly confess, that necessity + was the parent of this lean attenuated offspring!—For, alas! + </p> + <p> + My 'angel mother,' (as Anna Maria phrases it,) was a woman of ten + thousand, for she dwelt in one of the most populous districts of London! + My sire, was of the most noble order of St. Crispin; and though he had + many faults, was continually mending—being the most eminent cobbler + in the neighbourhood. + </p> + <p> + Even in the outset of their connubial partnership, they started under the + most favorable auspices—for, whereas other couples marry for love or + money, they got married for 'nothing' taking advantage of the annual + gratuitous splicings performed at Shoreditch Church on one sunshiny Easter + Monday. + </p> + <p> + In less than three years my amiable mother presented her lord and master + with as many interesting pledges of their affection—I was the + cobbler's last—and + </p> + <p> + 'Though last, not least, in their dear love.' <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER II.—Our Lodging. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + OUR precarious means were too small to permit us to rent a house, we + therefore rented one large room, which served us for— + </p> + <p> + "Parlor and kitchen and all!" + </p> + <p> + in the uppermost story of a house, containing about a dozen families. + </p> + <p> + This 'airy' apartment was situated in a narrow alley of great + thoroughfare, in the heart of the great metropolis. + </p> + <p> + The lower part of this domicile was occupied by one James, who did + 'porter's work,' while his wife superintended the trade of a miscellaneous + store, called a green-grocer's; although the stock comprised, besides a + respectable skew of cabbages, carrots, lettuces, and other things in + season, a barrel of small beer, a side of bacon, a few red herrings, a + black looking can of 'new milk,' and those less perishable articles, + Warren's blacking, and Flanders' bricks; while the window was graced with + a few samples of common confectionary, celebrated under the sweet names of + lollypops, Buonaparte's ribs, and bulls'-eyes. + </p> + <p> + In one pane, by permission, was placed the sign board of my honored + parent, informing the reading public, that + </p> + <p> + 'Repairs were neatly executed!' + </p> + <p> + In my mind's eye how distinctly do I behold that humble shop in all the + greenness and beauty of its Saturday morning's display. + </p> + <p> + Nor can I ever forget the kind dumpy motherly Mrs. James, who so often + patted my curly head, and presented me with a welcome slice of bread and + butter and a drink of milk, invariably repeating in her homely phrase, "a + child and a chicken is al'ays a pickin'"—and declaring her belief, + that the 'brat' got scarcely enough to "keep life and soul together"—the + real truth of which my craving stomach inwardly testified. + </p> + <p> + Talk of the charities of the wealthy, they are as 'airy nothings' in the + scale, compared with the unostentatious sympathy of the poor! The former + only give a portion of their excess, while the latter willingly divide + their humble crust with a fellow sufferer. + </p> + <p> + The agreeable routine of breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, was unknown + in our frugal establishment; if we obtained one good meal a day, under any + name, we were truly thankful. + </p> + <p> + To give some idea of our straitened circumstances, I must relate one + solitary instance of display on the maternal side. It was on a Saturday + night, the air and our appetites were equally keen, when my sire, having + unexpectedly touched a small sum, brought home a couple of pound of real + Epping. A scream of delight welcomed the savory morsel. + </p> + <p> + A fire was kindled, and the meat was presently hissing in the borrowed + frying-pan of our landlady. + </p> + <p> + I was already in bed, when the unusual sound and savor awoke me. I rolled + out in a twinkling, and squatting on the floor, watched the culinary + operations with greedy eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Tom," said my mother, addressing her spouse, "set open the door and + vinder, and let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for + once." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER. III.—On Temperance. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to + turn her out!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins3" id="Mullins3"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins3.jpg (64K)" src="images/Mullins3.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + ARMED with the authority and example of loyalty, for even that renowned + monarch—Old King Cole—was diurnally want to call for + </p> + <p> + "His pipe and his glass" + </p> + <p> + and induced by the poetical strains of many a bard, from the classic + Anacreon to those of more modern times, who have celebrated the virtue of + </p> + <p> + "Wine, mighty wine!" + </p> + <p> + it is not to be marvelled at, that men's minds have fallen victims to the + fascinations of the juice of the purple grape, or yielded to the alluring + temptations of the 'evil spirit.' + </p> + <p> + It is a lamentable truth, that notwithstanding the laudable and wholesome + exertions and admonitions of the Temperance and Tee-total Societies, that + the people of the United Kingdom are grievously addicted to an excessive + imbibation of spirituous liquors, cordials, and compounds. + </p> + <p> + Although six-bottle men are now regarded as monstrosities, and drinking + parties are nearly exploded, tippling and dram-drinking among the lower + orders are perhaps more indulged in than ever. + </p> + <p> + The gilded and gorgeous temples—devoted to the worship of the + reeling-goddess GENEVA—blaze forth in every quarter of the vast + metropolis. + </p> + <p> + Is it matter of wonder, then, that while men of superior intellect and + education are still weak enough to seek excitement in vinous potations, + that the vulgar, poor, and destitute, should endeavour to drown their + sorrows by swallowing the liquid fires displayed under various names, by + the wily priests of Silenus! + </p> + <p> + That such a deduction is illogical we are well aware, but great examples + are plausible excuses to little minds. + </p> + <p> + Both my parents were naturally inclined to sobriety; but, unfortunately, + and as it too frequently happens, in low and crowded neighbourhoods, + drunkenness is as contagious as the small-pox, or any other destructive + malady. + </p> + <p> + Now, it chanced that in the first-floor of the house in which we dwelt, + there also resided one Stubbs and his wife. They had neither chick nor + child. Stubbs was a tailor by trade, and being a first-rate workman, + earned weekly a considerable sum; but, like too many of his fraternity, he + was seldom sober from Saturday night until Wednesday morning. His loving + spouse 'rowed in the same boat'—and the 'little green-bottle' was + dispatched several times during the days of their Saturnalia, to be + replenished at the never-failing fountain of the 'Shepherd and Flock.' + </p> + <p> + Unhappily, in one of her maudlin fits, Mrs. Stubbs took a particular fancy + to my mother; and one day, in the absence of the 'ninth,' beckoned my + unsuspecting parent into her sittingroom,—and after gratuitously + imparting to her the hum-drum history of her domestic squabbles, invited + her to take a 'drop o' summat'—to keep up her I sperrits.' + </p> + <p> + Alas! this was the first step—and she went on, and on, and on, until + that which at first she loathed became no longer disagreeable, and by + degrees grew into a craving that was irresistible;—and, at last, she + regularly hob-and-nobb'd' with the disconsolate rib of Stubbs, and shared + alike in all her troubles and her liquor. + </p> + <p> + Fain would I draw a veil over this frailty of my unfortunate parent; but, + being conscious that veracity is the very soul and essence of history, I + feel myself imperatively called upon neither to disguise nor to cancel the + truth. + </p> + <p> + My father remonstrated in vain-the passion had already taken too deep a + hold; and one day he was suddenly summoned from his work with the + startling information, that 'Mother Mullins'—(so the kind neighbour + phrased it) was sitting on the step of a public house, in the suburbs, + completely 'tosticated.' + </p> + <p> + He rushed out, and found the tale too true. A bricklayer in the + neighbourhood proposed the loan of his barrow, for the poor senseless + creature could not walk a step. Placing her in the one-wheel-carriage, he + made the best of his way home, amid the jeers of the multitude. Moorfields + was then only partially covered with houses; and as he passed a deep + hollow, on the side of which was placed a notice, intimating that + </p> + <h3> + "RUBBISH MAY BE SHOT HERE!" + </h3> + <p> + his eyes caught the words, and in the bitterness of his heart he exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + "I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn her + out!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV.—A Situation. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I say, Jim, what birds are we most like now?" "Why swallows, to be + sure,"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins4" id="Mullins4"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins4.jpg (94K)" src="images/Mullins4.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + IN the vicinity of our alley were numerous horse-rides, and my chief + delight was being entrusted with a horse, and galloping up and down the + straw-littered avenue.—I was about twelve years of age, and what was + termed a sharp lad, and I soon became a great favourite with the ostlers, + who admired the aptness with which I acquired the language of the stables. + </p> + <p> + There were many stock-brokers who put up at the ride; among others was Mr. + Timmis—familiarly called long Jim Timmis. He was a bold, dashing, + good-humoured, vulgar man, who was quite at home with the ostlers, + generally conversing with them in their favourite lingo. + </p> + <p> + I had frequent opportunities of shewing him civilities, handing him his + whip, and holding his stirrup, etc. + </p> + <p> + One day he came to the ride in a most amiable and condescending humour, + and for the first time deigned to address me—"Whose kid are you?" + demanded he. + </p> + <p> + "Father's, sir," I replied. + </p> + <p> + "Do you know your father, then?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "A wise child this;" and he winked at the ostler, who, of course, laughed + incontinently. + </p> + <p> + "I want a-lad," continued he; "what do you say—would you like to + serve me?" + </p> + <p> + "If I could get any thing by it." + </p> + <p> + "D-me, if that a'int blunt." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir; that's what I mean." + </p> + <p> + "Mean! mean what?" + </p> + <p> + "If I could get any blunt, sir." + </p> + <p> + Hereupon he laughed outright, at what he considered my readiness, although + I merely used the cant term for "money," to which I was most accustomed, + from my education among the schoolmasters of the ride. + </p> + <p> + "Here, take my card," said he; "and tell the old codger, your father, to + bring you to my office to-morrow morning, at eleven." + </p> + <p> + "Well, blow me," exclaimed my friend the ostler, "if your fortin' arn't + made; I shall see you a tip-top sawyer—may I never touch another + tanner! Vy, I remembers Jim Timmis hisself vos nothin but a grubby boy—Mother + Timmis the washer-woman's son, here in what-d've-call-'em-court—ven + he vent to old Jarvis fust. He's a prime feller tho', and no mistake—and + thof he's no gentleman born, he pays like one, and vot's the difference?" + </p> + <p> + The next morning, punctual to the hour, I waited at his office, which was + in a large building adjoining the Stock Exchange, as full as a dove-cot, + with gentlemen of the same feather. + </p> + <p> + "O!" said he, eyeing my parent, "and you're this chap's father, are you? + What are you?" + </p> + <p> + "A boot and shoe-maker, sir; and my Andrew is an honest lad." + </p> + <p> + "For the matter o' that, there's little he can prig here;" replied my + elegant and intended master. "But his tongs—eh—old fellow—can't + you rig him out a little?" + </p> + <p> + My father pleaded poverty; and at last he bargained to advance a guinea, + and deduct it out of my weekly-wages of two and sixpence, and no board. My + father was glad to make any terms, and the affair was consequently soon + arranged. I was quickly fitted out, and the next morning attended his + orders. + </p> + <p> + I had, however, little else to do than wait in his office, and run to the + Stock Exchange, to summon him when a customer dropped in. I had much + leisure, which I trust was not wholly thrown away, for I practised writing + on the back of the stock-receipts, of which a quantity hung up in the + office, and read all the books I could lay my hands on; although, I must + confess, the chief portion of my knowledge of the world has been derived + from observation. + </p> + <p> + "The proper study of mankind is man." + </p> + <p> + Although quick in temper, and rude in speech and manners, Timmis was kind; + and, if he had a failing, it was the ambition of being a patron; and he + was certainly not one of those who do a good deed, and + </p> + <p> + "Blush to find it fame." + </p> + <p> + He not only employed my father to make his boots, but recommended him to + all his friends as a "good-fit," and procured the old man some excellent + customers. Among his acquaintance, for he had few friends, was Tom Wallis, + a fat, facetious man, about forty, with whom he was always lunching and + cracking his jokes. One day, when the stocks were "shut" and business was + slack, they started together on a sporting excursion towards the romantic + region of Hornsey-wood, on which occasion I had the honour of carrying a + well-filled basket of provisions, and the inward satisfaction of making a + good dinner from the remnants. + </p> + <p> + They killed nothing but time, yet they were exceedingly merry, especially + during the discussion of the provisions. Their laughter, indeed, was + enough to scare all the birds in the neighbourhood. + </p> + <p> + "Jim, if you wanted to correct those sheep yonder," said Tom, "what sort + of tool would you use?" + </p> + <p> + "An ewe-twig, of course," replied my master. + </p> + <p> + "No; that's devilish good," said Wallis; "but you ain't hit it yet." + </p> + <p> + "For a crown you don't do a better?" + </p> + <p> + "Done!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, what is it?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, a Ram-rod to be sure—as we're sportsmen." + </p> + <p> + My master agreed that it was more appropriate, and the good-natured Tom + Wallis flung the crown he had won to me. + </p> + <p> + "Here's another," continued he, as Mr. Timmis was just raising a bottle of + pale sherry to his lips—"I say, Jim, what birds are we most like + now?" + </p> + <p> + "Why swallows, to be sure," quickly replied my patron; who was really, on + most occasions, a match for his croney in the sublime art of punning, and + making conundrums, a favourite pastime with the wits of the Stock + Exchange. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER V.—The Stalking Horse. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Retributive Justice"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins5" id="Mullins5"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins5.jpg (77K)" src="images/Mullins5.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + ON the same landing where Timmis (as he termed it) 'held out,' were five + or six closets nick-named offices, and three other boys. One was the + nephew of the before-mentioned Wallis, and a very imp of mischief; + another, only a boy, with nothing remarkable but his stupidity; while the + fourth was a scrubby, stunted, fellow, about sixteen or seventeen years of + age, with a long pale face, deeply pitted with the small-pox, and an + irregular crop of light hair, most unscientifically cut into tufts. + </p> + <p> + He, by reason of his seniority and his gravity, soon became the oracle of + the party. We usually found him seated on the stairs of the first floor, + lost in the perusal of some ragged book of the marvellous school—scraps + of which he used to read aloud to us, with more unction than propriety, + indulging rather too much in the note of admiration style; for which he + soon obtained the name of Old Emphatic!—But I must confess we did + obtain a great deal of information from his select reading, and were + tolerably good listeners too, notwithstanding his peculiar delivery, for + somehow he appeared to have a permanent cold in his head, which sometimes + threw a tone of irresistible ridicule into his most pathetic bits. + </p> + <p> + He bore the scriptural name of Matthew and was, as he informed us, a + 'horphan'—adding, with a particular pathos, 'without father or + mother!' His melancholy was, I think, rather attributable to bile than + destitution, which he superinduced by feeding almost entirely on + 'second-hand pastry,' purchased from the little Jew-boys, who hawk about + their 'tempting' trash in the vicinity of the Bank. + </p> + <p> + Matthew, like other youths of a poetical temperament, from Petrarch down + to Lord Byron, had a 'passion.' + </p> + <p> + I accidentally discovered the object of his platonic flame in the person + of the little grubby-girl—the servant of the house-keeper—for, + as the proverb truly says, + </p> + <p> + "Love and a cough cannot be hid." + </p> + <p> + The tender passion first evinced itself in his delicate attentions;—nor + was the quick-eyed maid slow to discover her conquest. Her penetration, + however, was greater than her sympathy. With a tact that would not have + disgraced a politician—in a better cause, she adroitly turned the + swelling current of his love to her own purposes. + </p> + <p> + As the onward flowing stream is made to turn the wheel, while the miller + sings at the window, so did she avail herself of his strength to do her + work, while she gaily hummed a time, and sadly 'hummed' poor Matthew. + </p> + <p> + There being nearly thirty offices in the building, there were of course in + winter as many fires, and as many coal-scuttles required. When the eyes of + the devoted Matthew gazed on the object of his heart's desire toiling up + the well-stair, he felt he knew not what; and, with a heart palpitating + with the apprehension that his proffered service might be rejected (poor + deluded mortal!), he begged he might assist her. With a glance that he + thought sufficient to ignite the insensible carbon, she accepted his + offer. Happy Matthew!—he grasped the handles her warm red-hands had + touched!—Cold-blooded, unimaginative beings may deride his + enthusiasm; but after all, the sentiment he experienced was similar to, + and quite as pure, as that of Tom Jones, when he fondled Sophia Western's + little muff. + </p> + <p> + But, alas!— + </p> + <p> + "The course of true love never did run smooth." + </p> + <p> + Two months after this event, 'his Mary' married the baker's man!— + </p> + <p> + * * * * * * * * * * + </p> + <p> + Wallis's nephew had several times invited me to pay him a visit at his + uncle's house, at Crouchend; and so once, during the absence of that + gentleman who was ruralizing at Tonbridge, I trudged down to his villa. + </p> + <p> + Nothing would suit Master John, but that he must 'have out' his uncle's + gun; and we certainly shot at, and frightened, many sparrows. + </p> + <p> + He was just pointing at a fresh quarry, when the loud crow of a cock + arrested his arm. + </p> + <p> + "That's Doddington's game 'un, I know," said Master John. "What d'ye think—if + he did'nt 'pitch into' our 'dunghill' the other day, and laid him dead at + a blow. I owe him one!—Come along." I followed in his footsteps, and + soon beheld Chanticleer crowing with all the ostentation of a victor at + the hens he had so ruthlessly widowed. A clothes-horse, with a ragged + blanket, screened us from his view; and Master'John, putting the muzzle of + his gun through a hole in this novel ambuscade, discharged its contents + point blank into the proclaimer of the morn—and laid him low. + </p> + <p> + I trembled; for I felt that we had committed a 'foul murder.' Master + Johnny, however, derided my fears—called it retributive justice—and + ignominiously consigned the remains of a game-cock to a dunghill! + </p> + <p> + The affair appeared so like a cowardly assassination, in which I was + (though unwillingly—) 'particeps criminis'—that I walked away + without partaking of the gooseberry-pie, which he had provided for our + supper. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI.—A Commission. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; if you carry me, don't I + carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins6" id="Mullins6"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins6.jpg (63K)" src="images/Mullins6.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I was early at my post on the following morning, being particularly + anxious to meet with Mr. Wallis's scapegrace nephew, and ascertain whether + anybody had found the dead body of the game-cock, and whether an inquest + had been held; for I knew enough of the world to draw my own conclusions + as to the result. He, although the principal, being a relative, would get + off with a lecture, while I should probably be kicked out of my place. + </p> + <p> + In a fever of expectation, I hung over the banisters of the geometrical + staircase, watching for his arrival. + </p> + <p> + While I was thus occupied, my nerves "screwed up,"—almost to + cracking, Mr. Wallis's office-door was thrown open, and I beheld that very + gentleman's round, pleasant physiognomy, embrowned by his travels, staring + me full in the face. I really lost my equilibrium at the apparition. + </p> + <p> + "Oh!—it's you, is it," cried he. "Where's my rascal?" + </p> + <p> + "He's not come yet, sir," I replied. + </p> + <p> + "That fellow's never at hand when I want him—I'll cashier him by + ___." He slammed to his own door, and—opened it again immediately. + </p> + <p> + "Timmis come?" demanded he. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir; I don't think he'll be here for an hour." + </p> + <p> + "True—I'm early in the field; but what brings you here so soon?—some + mischief, I suppose." + </p> + <p> + "I'm always early, sir, for I live hard by." + </p> + <p> + "Ha!—well—I wish—." + </p> + <p> + "Can I do anything for you, sir?" I enquired. + </p> + <p> + "Why, that's a good thought," said he, and his countenance assumed its + usually bland expression. "Let me see—I want to send my carpet-bag, + and a message, to my housekeeper." + </p> + <p> + "I can do it, sir, and be back again in no time," cried I, elated at + having an opportunity of obliging the man whom I had really some cause to + fear, in the critical situation in which his nephew's thoughtlessness had + placed me. + </p> + <p> + In my eagerness, however, and notwithstanding the political acuteness of + my manoeuvre, I got myself into an awful dilemma. Having received the bag, + and his message, I walked off, but had scarcely descended a dozen stairs + when he recalled me. + </p> + <p> + "Where the devil are you going?" cried he. + </p> + <p> + "To your house, sir," I innocently replied. + </p> + <p> + "What, do you know it, then?" demanded he in surprise. + </p> + <p> + Here was a position. It was a miracle that I did not roll over the + carpet-bag and break my neck, in the confusion of ideas engendered by this + simple query. + </p> + <p> + I could not lie, and evasion was not my forte. A man or boy in the wrong + can never express himself with propriety; an opinion in which Quinctilian + also appears to coincide, when he asserts— + </p> + <p> + "Orator perfectus nisi vir bonus esse non potest." + </p> + <p> + I therefore summoned up sufficient breath and courage to answer him in the + affirmative. + </p> + <p> + "And when, pray, were you there?" said he. + </p> + <p> + "Yesterday, sir, your nephew asked me to come and see him." + </p> + <p> + "The impudent little blackguard?" cried he. + </p> + <p> + "I hope you ain't angry, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "Angry with you?—no, my lad; you're an active little chap, and I + wish that imp of mine would take a pattern by you. Trot along, and mind + you have 'a lift' both ways." + </p> + <p> + Off I went, as light as a balloon when the ropes are cut. + </p> + <p> + I executed my commission with dispatch, and completely won the favour of + Mr. Wallis, by returning the money which he had given me for coach-hire. + </p> + <p> + "How's this?—you didn't tramp, did you?" said he. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir, I rode both ways," I replied; "but I knew the coachmen, and they + gave me a cast for nothing." + </p> + <p> + "Umph!—well, that's quite proper—quite proper," said he, + considering a moment. "Honesty's the best policy." + </p> + <p> + "Father always told me so, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Your father's right;—there's half-a-crown for you." + </p> + <p> + I was delighted— + </p> + <p> + "Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum;" + </p> + <p> + and I felt the truth of this line of Dr. Johnson's, although I was then + ignorant of it. I met his nephew on the landing, but my fears had + vanished. We talked, however, of the departed bird, and he wished me, in + the event of discovery, to declare that I had loaded and carried the gun, + and that he would bear the rest of the blame. + </p> + <p> + This, however, strongly reminded me of the two Irish smugglers:—one + had a wooden leg, and carried the cask; while his comrade, who had the use + of both his pins, bore him upon his shoulders, and, complaining of the + weight, the other replied:—"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the + bothuration; if you carry me, don't I carry the whiskey, sure, and that's + fair and aqual!" and I at once declined any such Hibernian partnership in + the affair, quite resolved that he should bear the whole onus upon his own + shoulders. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER, VII.—The Cricket Match + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Out! so don't fatigue yourself, I beg, sir."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins7" id="Mullins7"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins7.jpg (65K)" src="images/Mullins7.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I soon discovered that my conduct had been reported in the most favourable + colours to Mr. Timmis, and the consequence was that he began to take more + notice of me. + </p> + <p> + "Andrew, what sort of a fist can you write?" demanded he. I shewed him + some caligraphic specimens. + </p> + <p> + "D___ me, if your y's and your g's hav'nt tails like skippingropes. We + must have a little topping and tailing here, and I think you'll do. Here, + make out this account, and enter it in the book." + </p> + <p> + He left me to do his bidding; and when he returned from the + Stock-Exchange, inspected the performance, which I had executed with + perspiring ardour. + </p> + <p> + I watched his countenance. "That'll do—you're a brick! I'll make a + man of you—d___ me." + </p> + <p> + From this day forward I had the honour of keeping his books, and making + out the accounts. I was already a person of importance, and certainly some + steps above the boys on the landing. + </p> + <p> + I did not, however, obtain any advance in my weekly wages; but on + "good-days" got a douceur, varying from half a crown to half a sovereign! + and looked upon myself as a made man. Most of the receipts went to my + father; whatever he returned to me I spent at a neighbouring book-stall, + and in the course of twelve months I possessed a library of most amusing + and instructive literature,—Heaven knows! of a most miscellaneous + character, for I had no one to guide me in the selection. + </p> + <p> + Among Mr. Timmis's numerous clients, was one Mr. Cornelius Crobble, a man + of most extraordinary dimensions; he was also a "chum" of, and frequently + made one of a party with, his friend Mr. Wallis, and other croneys, to + white-bait dinners at Blackwall, and other intellectual banquets. In fact, + he seldom made his appearance at the office, but the visit ended in an + engagement to dine at some "crack-house" or other. The cost of the "feed," + as Mr. Timmis termed it, was generally decided by a toss of "best two and + three;" and somehow it invariably happened that Mr. Crobble lost; but he + was so good-humoured, that really it was a pleasure, as Mr. Wallis said, + to "grub" at his expense. + </p> + <p> + They nick-named him Maximo Rotundo—and he well deserved the title. + </p> + <p> + "Where's Timmis?" said he, one day after he had taken a seat, and puffed + and blowed for the space of five minutes—"Cuss them stairs; they'll + be the death o' me." + </p> + <p> + I ran to summon my master. + </p> + <p> + "How are you, old fellow?" demanded Mr. Timmis; "tip us your fin." + </p> + <p> + "Queer!" replied Mr. Crobble,—tapping his breast gently with his fat + fist, and puffing out his cheeks—to indicate that his lungs were + disordered. + </p> + <p> + "What, bellows to mend?" cried my accomplished patron—"D___ me, + never say die!" + </p> + <p> + "Just come from Doctor Sprawles: says I must take exercise; no malt liquor—nothing + at breakfast—no lunch—no supper." + </p> + <p> + "Why, you'll be a skeleton—a transfer from the consolidated to the + reduced in no time," exclaimed Mr. Timmis; and his friend joined in the + laugh. + </p> + <p> + "I was a-thinking, Timmis—don't you belong to a cricketclub?" + </p> + <p> + "To be sure." + </p> + <p> + —"Of joining you." + </p> + <p> + "That's the ticket," cried Timmis—"consider yourself elected; I can + carry any thing there. I'm quite the cock of the walk, and no mistake. + Next Thursday's a field-day—I'll introduce you. Lord! you'll soon be + right as a trivet." + </p> + <p> + Mr Wallis was summoned, and the affair was soon arranged; and I had the + gratification of being present at Mr. Crobble's inauguration. + </p> + <p> + It was a broiling day, and there was a full field; but he conducted + himself manfully, notwithstanding the jokes of the club. He batted + exceedingly well, "considering," as Mr. Wallis remarked; but as for the + "runs," he was completely at fault. + </p> + <p> + He only attempted it once; but before he had advanced a yard or two, the + ball was caught; and the agile player, striking the wicket with ease, + exclaimed, amid the laughter of the spectators—"Out! so don't + fatigue yourself, I beg, sir." + </p> + <p> + And so the match was concluded, amid cheers and shouting, in which the + rotund, good-natured novice joined most heartily. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII.—The Hunter. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Hunting may be sport, says I, but I'm blest if its pleasure."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins8" id="Mullins8"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins8.jpg (64K)" src="images/Mullins8.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Two days after the cricket-match, Mr. Crobble paid a visit to my master. + </p> + <p> + "Well, old fellow, d___ me me, if you ain't a trump—how's your + wind?"—kindly enquired Mr. Timmis. + </p> + <p> + "Vastly better, thank'ye; how's Wallis and the other fellows?—prime + sport that cricketing." + </p> + <p> + "Yes; but, I say, you'll never have 'a run' of luck, if you stick to the + wicket so." + </p> + <p> + "True; but I made a hit or two, you must allow," replied Mr. Crobble; + "though I'm afraid I'm a sorry member." + </p> + <p> + "A member, indeed!—no, no; you're the body, and we're the—members," + replied Mr. Timmis, laughing; "but, halloo! what's that patch on your + forehead—bin a fighting?" + </p> + <p> + "No; but I've been a hunting," said Mr. Crobble, "and this here's the + fruits—You know my gray?" + </p> + <p> + "The nag you swopp'd the bay roadster for with Tom Brown?" + </p> + <p> + "Him," answered Crobble. "Well, I took him to Hertfordshire Wednesday last—" + </p> + <p> + "He took you, you mean." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what's the odds?" + </p> + <p> + "The odds, why, in your favour, to be sure, as I dare say the horse can + witness." + </p> + <p> + "Well, howsomever, there was a good field—and off we went. The level + country was all prime; but he took a hedge, and nearly julked all the life + out o' me. I lost my stirrup, and should have lost my seat, had'nt I + clutched his mane—" + </p> + <p> + "And kept your seat by main force?" + </p> + <p> + "Very good." + </p> + <p> + "Well, away we went, like Johnny Gilpin. Hunting may be sport, says I, but + I'm blest if its pleasure. This infernal horse was always fond of shying, + and now he's going to shy me off; and, ecod! no sooner said than done. + Over his head I go, like a rocket." + </p> + <p> + "Like a foot-ball, you mean," interrupted Mr. Timmis. + </p> + <p> + "And, as luck would have it, tumbles into a ditch, plump with my head agin + the bank." + </p> + <p> + "By jingo! such a 'run' upon the bank was enough to break it," cried my + master, whose propensity to crack a joke overcame all feeling of sympathy + for his friend. + </p> + <p> + "It broke my head though; and warn't I in a precious mess—that's all—up + to my neck, and no mistake—and black as a chimney-sweep—such + mud!" + </p> + <p> + "And only think of a man of your property investing his substance in mud! + That is a good 'un!—Andrew," said he, "tell Wally to come here." I + summoned his crony, and sat myself down to the books, to enjoy the + sportive sallies of the two friends, who roasted the 'fat buck,' their + loving companion, most unmercifully. + </p> + <p> + "You sly old badger," cried Wallis, "why, you must have picked out the + ditch." + </p> + <p> + "No, but they picked out me, and a precious figure I cut—I can tell + you—I was dripping from top to toe." + </p> + <p> + "Very like dripping, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, eyeing his fat friend, + and bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter. The meeting ended, as + usual, with a bet for a dinner at the "Plough" for themselves and their + friends, which Mr. Crobble lost—as usual. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX.—A Row to Blackwall. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>'To be sold, warranted sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a + lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a + lady.'</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins9" id="Mullins9"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins9.jpg (77K)" src="images/Mullins9.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + STEAM-BOATS did not run to Greenwich and Blackwall at this period; and + those who resorted to the white-bait establishments at those places, + either availed themselves of a coach or a boat. Being now transformed, by + a little personal merit, and a great favour, from a full-grown errand-boy + to a small clerk, Mr. Timmis, at the suggestion of my good friend Mr. + Wallis, offered me, as a treat, a row in the boat they had engaged for the + occasion; which, as a matter of course, I did not refuse: making myself as + spruce as my limited wardrobe would permit, I trotted at their heels to + the foot of London-bridge, the point of embarkation. + </p> + <p> + The party, including the boatman, consisted of eight souls; the tide was + in our favour, and away we went, as merry a company as ever floated on the + bosom of Father Thames. Mr. Crobble was the chief mark for all their + sallies, and indeed he really appeared, from his size, to have been + intended by Nature for a "butt," as Mr. Wallis wickedly remarked. + </p> + <p> + "You told, me, Crobble, of your hunting exploit in Hertfordshire," said + Mr. Wallis; "I'll tell you something as bangs that hollow; I'm sure I + thought I should have split with laughter when I heard of it. You know the + old frump, my Aunt Betty, Timmis?" + </p> + <p> + "To be sure—she with the ten thousand in the threes," replied Mr. + Timmis; "a worthy creature; and I'm sure you admire her principal." + </p> + <p> + "Don't I," cried Wallis; and he winked significantly at his friend. + </p> + <p> + "Well, what d'ye think; she, and Miss Scragg, her toady, were in the + country t'other day, and must needs amuse themselves in an airing upon a + couple of prads. + </p> + <p> + "Well; they were cantering along—doing the handsome—and had + just come to the border of a pond, when a donkey pops his innocent nose + over a fence in their rear, and began to heehaw' in a most melodious + strain. The nags pricked up their ears in a twinkling, and made no more + ado but bolted. Poor aunty tugged! but all in vain; her bay-cob ran into + the water; and she lost both her presence of mind and her seat, and + plumped swash into the pond—her riding habit spreading out into a + beautiful circle—while she lay squalling and bawling out in the + centre, like a little piece of beef in the middle of a large + batter-pudding! Miss Scragg, meanwhile, stuck to her graymare, and went + bumping along to the admiration of all beholders, and was soon out of + sight: luckily a joskin, who witnessed my dear aunt's immersion, ran to + her assistance, and, with the help of his pitch-fork, safely landed her; + for unfortunately the pond was not above three or four feet deep! and so + she missed the chance of being an angel!" + </p> + <p> + "And you the transfer of her threes!—what a pity!" said the + sympathizing Mr. Timmis. + </p> + <p> + "When I heard of the accident, of course, as in duty bound, I wrote an + anxious letter of affectionate enquiry and condolence. At the same period, + seeing an advertisement in the Times—'To be sold, warranted sound, a + gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to + ride or drive, and has carried a lady'—I was so tickled with the + co-incidence, that I cut it out, and sent it to her in an envelope." + </p> + <p> + "Prime! by Jove!"—shouted Mr. Crobble—"But, I say, Wallis—you + should have sent her a 'duck' too, as a symbolical memorial of her + accident!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER X.—The Pic-Nic. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>—-had just spread out their prog on a clean table-cloth, when + they were alarmed by the approach of a cow. </i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins10" id="Mullins10"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins10.jpg (82K)" src="images/Mullins10.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "PEOPLE should never undertake to do a thing they don't perfectly + understand," remarked Mr. Crobble, "they're sure to make fools o' + themselves in the end. There's Tom Davis, (you know Tom Davis?) he's + always putting his notions into people's heads, and turning the laugh + against 'em. If there's a ditch in the way, he's sure to dare some of his + companions to leap it, before he overs it himself; if he finds it safe, + away he springs like a greyhound." + </p> + <p> + "Exactly him, I know him," replied Mr. Timmis; "that's what he calls + learning to shave upon other people's chins!" + </p> + <p> + "Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis. + </p> + <p> + "He's a very devil," continued Mr. Crobble; "always proposing some fun or + other: Pic-nics are his delight; but he always leaves others to bring the + grub, and brings nothing but himself. I hate Pic-nics, squatting in the + grass don't suit me at all; when once down, I find it no easy matter to + get up again, I can tell you." + </p> + <p> + Hereupon there was a general laugh. + </p> + <p> + "Talking of Pic-nics," said Mr. Timmis, "reminds me of one that was held + the other day in a meadow, on the banks of the Lea. The party, consisting + of ladies only, and a little boy, had just spread out their prog on a + clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of a cow. They + were presently on their pins, (cow'd, of course,) and sheered off to a + respectful distance, while the cow walked leisurely over the table-cloth, + smelling the materials of the feast, and popp'd her cloven foot plump into + a currant and raspberry pie! and they had a precious deal of trouble to + draw her off; for, as Tom Davis said, there were some veal-patties there, + which were, no doubt, made out of one of her calves; and in her maternal + solicitude, she completely demolished the plates and dishes, leaving the + affrighted party nothing more than the broken victuals." + </p> + <p> + "What a lark!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I would have given a guinea to have + witnessed the fun. That cow was a trojan!" + </p> + <p> + "A star in the milky way," cried Mr. Wallis. + </p> + <p> + We now approached the 'Plough;' and Mr. Crobble having 'satisfied' the + boatman, Mr. Wallis gave me half-a-crown, and bade me make the best of my + way home. I pocketed the money, and resolved to 'go on the highway,' and + trudge on foot. + </p> + <p> + "Andrew," said my worthy patron, "now don't go and make a beast of + yourself, but walk straight home." + </p> + <p> + "Andrew," said Mr. Wallis, imitating his friend's tone of admonition; "if + any body asks you to treat 'em, bolt; if any body offers to treat you, + retreat!" + </p> + <p> + "Andrew," said Mr. Crobble, who was determined to put in his oar, and row + in the same boat as his friends; "Andrew,"—"Yes, Sir;" and I touched + my hat with due respect, while his two friends bent forward to catch his + words. "Andrew," repeated he, for the third time, "avoid evil + communication, and get thee gone from Blackwall, as fast as your legs can + carry you—for, there's villainous bad company just landed here—wicked + enough to spoil even the immaculate Mr. Cornelius Crobble!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI.—The Journey Home. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"—"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins11" id="Mullins11"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins11.jpg (85K)" src="images/Mullins11.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I FOUND myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and his + friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with + jack-tars. + </p> + <p> + Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached + Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved with + extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their mirth. + Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering for + Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for a saddle, + and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking a short pipe, + while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass. + </p> + <p> + "Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front. + </p> + <p> + "Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the rein. + </p> + <p> + "Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + "To the port o' Blackwall," replied the steersman. "But we're going quite + in the wind's eye, and I'm afeared we shan't make it to-night." + </p> + <p> + "A queer craft." + </p> + <p> + "Werry," replied Tom. "Don't answer the helm at all." + </p> + <p> + "Any grog on board?" demanded the sailor. + </p> + <p> + "Not enough to wet the boatswain's whistle; for, da'e see, mate, there's + no room for stowage." + </p> + <p> + "Shiver my timbers!—no grog!" exclaimed the other; "why—you'll + founder. If you don't splice the main-brace, you'll not make a knot an + hour. Heave to—and let's drink success to the voyage." + </p> + <p> + "With all my heart, mate, for I'm precious krank with tacking. Larboard, + Tom—larboard." + </p> + <p> + "Aye, aye—larboard it is." + </p> + <p> + "Now, run her right into that 'ere spirit-shop to leeward, and let's have + a bowl." + </p> + <p> + Tom tugged away, and soon "brought up" at the door of a wine-vaults. + </p> + <p> + "Let go the anchor," exclaimed his messmate—"that's it—coil + up." + </p> + <p> + "Here, mate—here's a picter of his royal majesty"—giving the + sailor alongside a new guinea—"and now tell the steward to mix us a + jorum as stiff as a nor'wester, and, let's all drink the King's health—God + bless him." + </p> + <p> + "Hooray!" shouted the delighted mob. + </p> + <p> + Their quondam friend soon did his bidding, bringing out a huge china-bowl + filled with grog, which was handed round to every soul within reach, and + presently dispatched;—two others followed, before they "weighed + anchor and proceeded on their voyage," cheered by the ragged multitude, + among whom they lavishly scattered their change; and a most riotous and + ridiculous scramble it produced. + </p> + <p> + I was much pleased with the novelty of the scene, and escaped from the + crowd as quickly as I conveniently could, for I was rather apprehensive of + an attempt upon my pockets. + </p> + <p> + What strange beings are these sailors! They have no care for the morrow, + but spend lavishly the hard-earned wages of their adventurous life. To one + like myself, who early knew the value of money, this thoughtless + extravagance certainly appeared unaccountable, and nearly allied to + madness; but, when I reflected that they are sometimes imprisoned in a + ship for years, without touching land, and frequently in peril of losing + their lives—that they have scarcely time to scatter their wages and + prize-money in the short intervals which chance offers them of mixing with + their fellow-men, my wonder changed to pity. + </p> + <p> + "A man in a ship," says Dr. Johnson, "is worse than a man in a jail; for + the latter has more room, better food, and commonly better company, and is + in safety." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII.—Monsieur Dubois. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's wulgar!—but if he's a mind + to anything like a gemman, here's my card!"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins12" id="Mullins12"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins12.jpg (69K)" src="images/Mullins12.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THE love-lorn Matthew had departed, no doubt unable to bear the sight of + that staircase whose boards no longer resounded with the slip-slap of the + slippers of that hypocritical beauty, "his Mary." With him, the romance of + the landing-place, and the squad, had evaporated; and I had no sympathies, + no pursuits, in common with the remaining "boys"—my newly-acquired + post, too, nearly occupied the whole of my time, while my desire of study + increased with the acquisition of books, in which all my pocket-money was + expended. + </p> + <p> + One day, my good friend, Mr. Wallis, entered the office, followed by a + short, sharp-visaged man, with a sallow complexion; he was dressed in a + shabby frock, buttoned up to the throat—a rusty black silk + neckerchief supplying the place of shirt and collar. + </p> + <p> + He stood just within the threshold of the door, holding his napless hat in + his hand. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Wally, my buck," cried my master, extending his hand. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wallis advanced close to his elbow, and spoke in a whisper; but I + observed, by the direction of his eyes, that the subject of his + communication was the stranger. + </p> + <p> + "Ha!" said Mr. Timmis, "it's all very well, Walley—but I hate all + forriners;—why don't he go back to Frogland, and not come here, + palming himself upon us. It's no go—not a scuddick. They're all a + parcel o' humbugs—and no mistake!" + </p> + <p> + As he uttered this gracious opinion sufficiently loud to strike upon the + tympanum of the poor fellow at the door, I could perceive his dark eyes + glisten, and the blood tinge his woe-begone cheeks; his lips trembled with + emotion: there was an evident struggle between offended gentility, and + urgent necessity. + </p> + <p> + Pride, however, gained the mastery; and advancing the right foot, he + raised his hat, and with peculiar grace bowing to the two friends—"Pardon, + Monsieur Vallis," said he, in tremulous accents, "I am 'de trop;' permit, + me to visdraw"—and instantly left the office. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Timmis, startled by his sudden exit, looked at Mr. Wallis for an + explanation. + </p> + <p> + "By ___!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis seriously—"you've hurt that poor + fellow's feelings. I would sooner have given a guinea than he should have + heard you. Dubois is a gentleman; and altho' he's completely 'stumped,' + and has'nt a place to put his head in, he's tenacious of that respect + which is due to every man, whether he happens to be at a premium, or a + discount." + </p> + <p> + "Go it!" cried Mr. Timmis, colouring deeply at this merited reproof—"If + this ain't a reg'lar sermon! I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, d___ me; + I'm a reg'lar John Bull, and he should know better than to be popped at my + bluntness. D___ me, I wouldn't hurt a worm—you know I wouldn't, + Wallis." + </p> + <p> + There was a tone of contrition in this rambling apology that satisfied Mr. + Wallis of its truth; and he immediately entered into an explanation on the + Frenchman's situation. He had known him, he said, for several years as a + tutor in the family of one of his clients, by whom he was much respected: + a heavy loss had compelled them suddenly to reduce their establishment; + Dubois had entreated to remain with his pupil—refused to receive any + salary—and had even served his old patron in the capacity of a + menial, adhering to him in all his misfortunes, and only parted with him, + reluctantly, at the door of the debtor's prison! + </p> + <p> + "Did he do that?" said my master; and I saw his eyes moisten at the + relation. "A French mounseer do that! Game—d___ me!"—and + lifting the lid of his desk, he drew out a five pound note! "Here, Wallis, + tip him this flimsey! Tell him—you know what to say—I'm no + speechifier—but you know what I mean." I almost jumped up and hugged + my master, I was so excited. + </p> + <p> + The next day Monsieur Dubois again made his appearance; and Mr. Wallis had + the pleasure of beholding Mr. Timmis and his gallic friend on the best + terms imaginable. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I had good cause to rejoice; for it was agreed that I should + take lessons in the "foreign lingo," by way of giving him "a lift," as Mr. + Timmis expressed it. I remember him with feelings of gratitude; for I owe + much more than the knowledge of the language to his kindness and + instruction. + </p> + <p> + As for Mr. Timmis, he could never sufficiently appreciate his worth, + although he uniformly treated him with kindness. + </p> + <p> + "Talk of refinement," said he, one day, when discussing Dubois' merits + with Mr. Wallis; "I saw a bit to-day as bangs everything. A cadger + sweeping a crossing fell out with a dustman. Wasn't there some spicy jaw + betwixt 'em. Well, nothing would suit, but the dustman must have a go, and + pitch into the cadger. + </p> + <p> + "D___ me, what does the cove do, but he outs with a bit of dirty + pasteboard, and he says, says he, "I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's + wulgar!—but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my + card!" Wasn't there a roar! I lugg'd out a bob, and flung it at the + vagabond for his wit." <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII.—My Talent Called into Active Service. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?"</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly + warmints."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins13" id="Mullins13"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins13.jpg (57K)" src="images/Mullins13.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + HAVING to deliver a letter, containing an account and a stock receipt, to + one of Mr. Timmis's clients, residing at the west end of the town; in + crossing through one of the fashionable squares, I observed a flat-faced + negro servant in livery, standing at the door of one of the houses. + </p> + <p> + Two chimney sweepers who happened to be passing, showed their white teeth + in a contemptuous grin at the African. + </p> + <p> + "Bob," I overheard one remark, "ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?" + </p> + <p> + "I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly + warmints. Master's daughter, wots come from boarding school! says the + sight of 'ems' enough to frighten one into conwulsions!" + </p> + <p> + Alas! for the prejudice of the world! How much this ignorant remark + reminded me of my patron's unfounded hatred of all "forriners." It was + precisely the same sentiment, differently expressed, that actuated the + thoughts and opinions of both. + </p> + <p> + I must, however, do Mr. Timmis the justice to say, that he made ample + amends to Monsieur Dubois for the affront he had so thoughtlessly put upon + the worthy Frenchman; and did all in his power to obtain him pupils. + </p> + <p> + The consequent change in his dress and manner, his amiable conduct, and + gentlemanly deportment, at last completely won upon the esteem of the + boisterous broker, who swore, (for that was generally his elegant manner + of expressing his sincerity) that Dubois was a 'downright good'un;' and + were it not for his foreign accent, he should have taken him for an + Englishman born—really believing, that there was no virtue in the + world but of English growth. + </p> + <p> + I had now been above twelve-months in his office, and although I had + received but a moderate compensation for my services, yet the vast + improvement I had made (thanks to the instruction of Monsieur Dubois,) was + more valuable than gold. My father also, though but scantily furnished + with book-knowledge, had, nevertheless, the good sense to appreciate and + encourage my progress; he was well aware, from observation, that + 'knowledge is power,' and would frequently quote the old saw, "When house, + and land, and money's spent;<br /> Then larning is most excellent"— + </p> + <p> + and spared all the money he could scrape together to purchase books for + me. + </p> + <p> + One day Mr. Crobble came into the office with an open letter in his hand. + "Here,"—cried he, "I've received a remittance at last from that, + German fellow—two good bills on the first house in the city—but + I can't make top nor tail of his rigmarole. Do you know any chap among + your acquaintance who can read German?" + </p> + <p> + "Not I," replied Mr. Timmis. + </p> + <p> + "Will you allow me, Mr. Crobble?" said I, stepping forward. "This letter + is written in French, not German, Sir," I observed. + </p> + <p> + "What's the difference to me, Master Andrew; it might as well be in wild + Irish, for the matter o' that." + </p> + <p> + "Andrew can read the lingo," said my master. + </p> + <p> + "The devil he can!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I dare say I shall be able to + make it out," said I; "and if not, Monsieur Dubois will be here; to-morrow + morning, and you can have it by twelve o'clock, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Ain't that the ticket?" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, delighted at the surprise + of his friend; "you don't know how vastly clever we are, old fellow." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crobble, much gratified at this information, placed the letter in my + hands; and, leaving me to take a lunch at Garraway's with Mr. Timmis, I + eagerly sat about my task—and luckily it was not only plainly + written, but the subject-matter by no means difficult, being rather + complimentary than technical. By the time they returned, I had not only + translated, but made a fair copy of it, in my best hand. + </p> + <p> + "Come, that is clever," said Mr. Crobble; "let me see, now, what shall I + give you?" + </p> + <p> + "Nothing, Sir," I promptly replied; "I am Mr. Timmis's clerk—and all + that I know I owe to his kindness." + </p> + <p> + I saw, with pleasure, that this compliment was not lost upon my master. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crobble was really a gentleman in feeling, and therefore did not + persist in offering me any remuneration; but as he left the office, he + said, "I thank you, Mr. Andrew—I shall not forget your services;" + and departed evidently much pleased with my performance. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV.—A Dilemma. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates,"</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"Well, can we go forward, then?"—"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the + roads are under water;"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins14" id="Mullins14"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins14.jpg (74K)" src="images/Mullins14.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates," said a bumpkin on the + road-side to a Cockney-party in a one-horse chaise. + </p> + <p> + "Well, can we go forward, then?" demanded the anxious and wearied + traveller. + </p> + <p> + "Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are under water;" replied the joskin, + with a grin. + </p> + <p> + This was certainly a situation more ridiculous than interesting; and I + smiled when I heard the story told, little suspecting that Fortune would + one day throw me into a similar dilemina—so blindly do we mortals + hug ourselves in the supposed security of our tact and foresight. + </p> + <p> + "How d'ye do, Mr. Andrew," said Mr. Crobble, when he had seated himself, + and sufficiently inflated his lungs, after the fatiguing operation of + mounting the stairs. + </p> + <p> + "Where's Timmis?—tell him I want a word with him." + </p> + <p> + I quickly summoned my patron, and followed him into the office. + </p> + <p> + "Well, old puff and blow!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, with his usual + familiarity. + </p> + <p> + "What's in the wind? Want to sell out? The fives are fallen three per + cent. since Friday. All the 'Change is as busy as the devil in a high + wind." + </p> + <p> + "No—no more dabbling, Timmis," replied Mr. Crobble; "I lost a cool + hundred last account; I want a word in private with you"—and he + glanced towards me; upon which I seized my hat, and took up my position at + my old post on the landing. How were my feelings altered since I first + loitered there, listening to the marvels of poor Matthew! + </p> + <p> + I was lost in a pleasant reverie, when the sharp voice of Mr. Timmis + recalled me. + </p> + <p> + "Andrew," said he, "my friend Crobble wants a clerk, and has cast his eye + upon you. What do you say?" + </p> + <p> + I scarcely knew what to say. On one side stood my master, to whom I really + owed so much—on the other his friend, who offered me a promotion, + which I felt, on many accounts, was most attractive. "I should have no + objection," I replied, "but great pleasure in serving Mr. Crobble, sir—but—I + have received so many favours from you, that I'm afraid I might seem + ungrateful." + </p> + <p> + The good-natured Mr. Wallis happily stepped in at this moment to my + relief. + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense," replied Mr. Timmis; "the stock is delivered to the highest + bidder; here Crobble backs eighteen shillings a week against my + half-a-crown-take him." + </p> + <p> + I still felt some hesitation, although it was evident, from his + expression, that Mr. Timmis valued the servant much less than the servant + valued the master. + </p> + <p> + "Only look here, Wally," cried he; "here stands Andrew, like an ass + between two bundles of hay." + </p> + <p> + "Rather like a bundle of hay between two asses, I think," replied Mr. + Wallis; and good-naturedly tapping me on the shoulder, he continued—"accept + Mr. Crobble's offer, Master Andrew: you're much too good for Timmis—he + can soon get a grubby half-crown boy—but you may wait a long time + for such an eligible offer." + </p> + <p> + "Eighteen shillings a week," said Mr. Crobble; who, I must confess, + without any particular stretch of self-esteem, appeared anxious to engage + me—, "but I shall want security." + </p> + <p> + That word "security" fell like an avalanche on my mounting spirit, and + cast me headlong down the imaginary ascent my busy thoughts had climbed + to! + </p> + <p> + "Five hundred pounds," continued Mr. Crobble; "d'ye think—have you + any friends?" + </p> + <p> + "None, sir; my father is a poor man, and quite unable." I could scarcely + speak—like the driver of the one-horse chaise, I could neither + advance nor recede. + </p> + <p> + "The father," said Mr. Timmis, "is only a poor shoe-maker—a good + fellow tho'—an excellent fit!" + </p> + <p> + "You mean to say," cried Mr. Wallis, "it were bootless to seek security of + the shoe-maker." + </p> + <p> + A laugh ensued; and, notwithstanding my agitated feelings, I could not + forbear being tickled by Mr. Wallis's humour, and joining in the + merriment. + </p> + <p> + This sally gave a most favourable turn to the discussion. "Come," said Mr. + Wallis, "I'll stand two hundred and fifty—and you, Timmis, must go + the other." + </p> + <p> + "No; d___ me, he may bolt with the cash-box, and let me in, perhaps," + exclaimed Mr. Timmis. I burst into tears; I felt, that from my long and + faithful services, I deserved a better opinion—although I had no + right to expect so great a favour. + </p> + <p> + Rude as he was, he felt some compunction at having wounded my feelings; + and swore a round oath that he was only joking, and I was a fool. "Did I + think, for a moment, that Wally should get the start of him; no—I + was an honest chap, and he'd put his fist to double the amount to serve + me;" and then bade me "sit to the books," and make all square before I cut + my stick: and thus happily concluded this most momentous change in my + circumstances. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV.—An Old Acquaintance. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass says 'very + wet;'—I can't bear it—I can't—and I won't."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins15" id="Mullins15"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins15.jpg (90K)" src="images/Mullins15.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + How impatiently did I count the minutes 'till the office was closed, for I + longed to communicate the glad tidings of my good fortune to my worthy + father. The old man wept with joy at the prospect, and assisted me in + rearing those beautiful fabrics termed castles in the air. + </p> + <p> + His own trade, by the recommendation of the rough, ill-mannered, but + good-natured Mr. Timmis, had wonderfully increased; and, by making some + temporary sacrifices, he was enabled to give me an appearance more + suitable to the new position in which I was so unexpectedly placed. In a + narrow alley, on the south side of the Royal Exchange, on the + ground-floor, I found the counting-house of Mr. Crobble. Under his + directions, I quickly made myself master of the details of the business. + Alas! it was but the slender fragment of a once flourishing mercantile + house, of which time had gradually lopped off the correspondents, whilst + his own inertness had not supplied the deficiency by a new connexion; for + his father had left him such an ample fortune, that he was almost careless + of the pursuit, although he could not make up his mind, as he said, to + abandon the "old shop," where his present independence had been + accumulated. I consequently found plenty of leisure, uninterrupted by the + continual hurry and bustle of a broker's office, to pursue my favourite + studies, and went on, not only to the entire satisfaction of Mr. Crobble, + but to my own, and really began to find myself a man of some importance. + </p> + <p> + In the course of business, I one day fell in with an old acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + "A parcel for Cornelius Crobble, Esq.," said a little porter, of that + peculiar stamp which is seen hanging about coach-offices—"Two + and-sixpence." + </p> + <p> + I looked at the direction, and drew out the "petty cash" to defray the + demand; when, then, first looking at the man, I thought I recognised his + features. + </p> + <p> + "What!" cried I, "Isn't your name—" + </p> + <p> + "Matthew," answered he quickly. + </p> + <p> + "Matthew!—why, don't you know me?" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir," replied he, staring vacantly at me. + </p> + <p> + "Indeed!—Have I so outgrown all knowledge? Don't you recollect + Andrew Mullins?" + </p> + <p> + "Good heavins!" exclaimed he, with his well-remembered nasal twang; "are + you—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I declare now you've growed into a gentleman. I should'nt—I + really should'nt—" He did not say what he really "should not"—but + extended his hand.—"Hope you ain't too proud to shake hands with an + old friend?" + </p> + <p> + I shook him heartily by the hand, and made some enquiries touching his + history. + </p> + <p> + Poor Matthew seated himself with all the ease imaginable, and laid his + knot beside him, and began, after the manner of his favourite heroes, to + "unbosom himself." + </p> + <p> + "You've a father," said he; "but I'm a horphan, without father nor mother—a + houtcast!"—and he sunk his head upon his bosom; and I observed that + his scrubby crop was already becoming thin and bald. + </p> + <p> + "Since I left the place in the 'lane,' I've bin a-going—down—down"—and + he nearly touched the floor with his hand. "That gal, Mary, was the ruin + of me—I shall never forget her.—My hopes is sunk, like the sun + in the ocean, never to rise agin!" I was rather amused by this romantic, + though incorrect, figure; but I let him proceed: "I've got several places, + but lost 'em all. I think there's a spell upon me; and who can struggle + against his fate?" + </p> + <p> + I tried to console him, and found, upon a further confession, that he had + flown to spirits "now and then," to blunt the sharp tooth of mental + misery. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, was the chief cause of his want of success, which he blindly + attributed to fate—the common failing of all weak minds. For my + part, notwithstanding the imperial authority of the great Napoleon + himself, I have no faith in Fate, believing that the effect, whether good + or bad, may invariably be traced to some cause in the conduct of the + individual, as certainly as the loss of a man, in a game of draughts, is + the consequence of a "wrong move" by the player!—And poor Matthew's + accusation of Fate put me in mind of the school-boy, who, during a wet + vacation, rushed vindictively at the barometer, and struck it in the face, + exclaiming—"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass + says 'very wet;'—I can't bear it—I can't—and I won't." + </p> + <p> + I did all in my power to comfort the little porter, exhorting him to + diligence and sobriety. + </p> + <p> + "You were always a kind friend," said he, pathetically; "and perhaps—perhaps + you will give me something to drink your health, for old-acquaintance + sake." This unexpected turn compelled me to laughter. I gave him sixpence. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Matthew, I found, was but a piece of coarse gingerbread, tricked out + with the Dutch metal of false sentiment. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI.—The Loss of a Friend. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the hair of 'All round my hat I + vears a green villow?'"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins16" id="Mullins16"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins16.jpg (62K)" src="images/Mullins16.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + I WAS startled by the batho-romantic sentiment of Matthew, somewhat in the + same manner as the young lady at the bookseller's, when she was accosted + by a musical dustman, with—"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the + hair of 'All round my hat I vears a green villow?'" + </p> + <p> + But, however ridiculous they may appear, such incongruous characters are + by no means caricatures—nay, are "as plentiful as blackberries," + especially in the lower grades of society. + </p> + <p> + I was indulging in a reverie of this sort, when Monsieur Dubois, my kind + and gentlemanly tutor, abruptly entered the office. I felt proud in having + obtained his friendship—for he was to me a mine of wealth, and + appeared master of every subject upon which my curiosity prompted me to + inquire, whilst the worthy Frenchman was so flattered by my sincere + respect, that he took a delight in imparting his knowledge to so willing + and diligent a scholar. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crobble had promised that I should continue my studies, being much + pleased with the proof I had been fortunate enough to give him of my + progress, generously offering to defray the charges of tuition; and I + found in my new place, even more time than when in the employ of Mr. + Timmis: for, indeed, half-a-clerk would have been sufficient to have + conducted the whole business. + </p> + <p> + I was no less surprised at the unusual abruptness of approach, than at the + extraordinary excitement apparent in the manner of Monsieur Dubois; for he + always boasted of his coolness and philosophy under all circumstances. + </p> + <p> + "Peace, peace!—'mon cher ami'—peace is proclaim"—cried + he, raising his hat and his eyes to the dingy ceiling of our office—"Grace + a Dieu!—le tyran Napoleon—le charlatan est renverse de son + piedestal—oui, mon eleve—I vill see, again once more my dear + France!" + </p> + <p> + He grasped my hand in his ecstasy, and tears filled his eyes to + overflowing. I had heard rumours of the restoration of the Bourbons, but I + had not anticipated the loss of my inestimable tutor. + </p> + <p> + I was almost ashamed of my selfishness; but vanquished my feelings so far + as to congratulate him on his prospects, with as much cordiality and + appearance of truth as I could assume. + </p> + <p> + "I trust, however," said I, "that restored to your country, and your + friends, you will find that happiness you so much deserve. Go where you + will, you will be followed by the regrets of your English friends." + </p> + <p> + "Ah! les Anglais!—'combien'—how motch 'reconnaissance?'" said + he, "I vill have for them! I sall them forget nevare!" + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crobble interrupted our colloquy. "All right t'other side the channel, + Mounseer," cried be, elated; "we've licked Boney: he's done up; stocks are + up; and Timmis, (your old master, Andrew) is as busy as a bee—only + he's making money instead of honey!" + </p> + <p> + He shook hands with Monsieur Dubois; and congratulated him upon the + restoration of Louis the Eighteenth. + </p> + <p> + I mentioned to him Monsieur Dubois' intention of proceeding immediately to + France. "He's right," cried he; "let every man stick to his King and his + country; and I say"—he suddenly checked himself, and beckoning me + aside, continued in an under tone—"Andrew, you understand this + Mounseer better than I do; he appears a good fellow in the main: if he + should want a lift, to fit him out for the voyage, or any thing of that + sort, tell him Corny Crobble will lend him a hand, for old acquaintance + sake; I shan't stick at a matter of forty or fifty pound—you + understand—put it to him, as a matter of business; for that'll suit + his proud stomach best, perhaps"—then, turning to Monsieur, he said, + "Excuse whispering before company, Mounseer Dubois. Good morning." + </p> + <p> + "Bon jour, Monsieur," replied Dubois, making my obese governor one of his + most graceful bows. + </p> + <p> + I was highly gratified at being selected as the medium of this generous + offer; which Monsieur Dubois received without hesitation, as one who + intended to repay it; but, at the same time, with the most grateful + acknowledgments of Mr. Crobble's considerate kindness. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII.—Promotion. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing,"</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>"My rowing!" cried I; "nonsense!—it's because you don't steer + right.</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Mullins17" id="Mullins17"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Mullins17.jpg (78K)" src="images/Mullins17.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "I REMEMBER, when I was a young man, I once took a fancy to rowing," said + Mr. Crobble one day to me. "I wasn't then quite so round as I am at + present. Cousin Tom and I hired a wherry, but somehow we found we didn't + make much way. Tom was steering, and I took the sculls, sitting my back to + him like a gaby!" + </p> + <p> + "'I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing,' said Tom. + </p> + <p> + "'My rowing!' cried I; 'nonsense!—it's because you don't steer + right.' Well, at last a waterman came alongside, and grinning (the fellow + couldn't help it) good-naturedly, pointed out the cause of our dilemma; at + which we both laughed heartily. Ever since that time I've been of opinion, + that unless people, 'who row in the same boat,' understand each other, + they'll never get along—" + </p> + <p> + I smiled at this lengthy prologue, not conceiving to what it could + possibly lead. + </p> + <p> + "Now, Mr. Andrew," resumed he, "I mean to be very industrious, and devote + a whole day to giving you an insight into the business; after which I + expect you'll pull away, while I only steer, which will suit me to a T—, + you understand." + </p> + <p> + "Exactly, sir," I replied; and, in consequence, he really set about the + task; and I soon acquired sufficient knowledge in the business, as not + only to row in the same boat with him, but, what was still more agreeable + to my patron's indolence, to manage the "craft" without his assistance. + </p> + <p> + Six months after the departure of Monsieur Dubois, he sent a remittance, + with interest on the amount, advanced by Mr. Crobble, with a long epistle + to me, stating, that he had entered into partnership with his elder + brother, and commenced the business of a banker, under the firm of "Dubois + Freres," at the same time informing me that they were already doing a + large stroke of business, and wanted an agent in London, requesting me to + inform him if it would be agreeable to Mr. Crobble for them to draw upon + his respectable house. + </p> + <p> + I saw at once the advantages of this correspondence, and so warmly + solicited Mr. Crobble to accede, that he at last consented, provided I + undertook the whole management of the affair. + </p> + <p> + The English were now daily flocking to Paris, and the money required for + their lavish expenditure in the gay capital of France compelled their + application to the bankers. + </p> + <p> + Messrs. Dubois Freres had their share of this lucrative business, and, as + their agents in London, we necessarily became participators in their large + transactions. + </p> + <p> + In three months these operations had increased so enormously, and the + profits were so considerable, that Mr. Crobble not only advanced my + salary, but consented to engage the assistance of two junior clerks. I was + now a man of some consideration. I was the senior clerk of the + establishment, although the youngest of the three. + </p> + <p> + In two years I found myself at the head of six clerks, and had as much + business as I could possibly manage. + </p> + <p> + My star was in the ascendant. I had not only more money than I required + for my expenses, but was enabled to maintain my poor old father, who daily + became more and more infirm. + </p> + <p> + I rented a small cottage at the rural village of Hackney, but my labour + occupied me early and late, and it was only on a Sunday I could really + enjoy my home. + </p> + <p> + Three years after quitting the office of Mr. Timmis, I had the + inexpressible pleasure of employing him to purchase stock for his errand + boy! I was proud as a king. + </p> + <p> + "I said that boy would turn out well," said the good-natured Mr. Wallis; + "he always had a good principle." + </p> + <p> + "And now bids fair," said Mr. Timmis, "to have both principal and + interest." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crobble having lately had a large property left him in Hertfordshire, + rarely came to the office above once a-quarter, to settle accounts. + </p> + <p> + "A good dividend—a very good dividend!" said he, upon receipt of the + last quarter's profits. "But, Mr. Mullins, I cannot forget that this + business is your child." + </p> + <p> + "And I'm happy to say a thriving one," I replied. + </p> + <p> + "Are you satisfied—perfectly satisfied?" demanded he. + </p> + <p> + "Beyond my wishes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "I am not," said he shortly. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir?" exclaimed I, with surprise. + </p> + <p> + "No, Sir!" repeated he. "Those who sow should reap. I've no children—I'm + an idle fellow—a drone, sir—and won't consent to consume all + the honey. Don't speak, sir—read that!" and he pulled a parchment + from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + It was a deed of partnership between Cornelius Crobble, of Lodge, + Hertfordshire, Esquire, and the poor cobbler's son, + </p> + <p> + ANDREW MULLINS. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A RIGMAROLE.—PART I. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"De omnibus rebus."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Rigmarole1" id="Rigmarole1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Rigmarole1.jpg (70K)" src="images/Rigmarole1.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THE evening is calm—the sun has just sunk below the tiles of the + house, which serenely bounds the view from the quiet attic where I wield + the anserine plume for the delectation of the pensive public—all + nature, etc.—the sky is deep blue, tinged with mellowest red, like a + learned lady delicately rouged, and ready for a literary soiree—the + sweet-voiced pot-boy has commenced his rounds with "early beer," and with + leathern lungs, and a sovereign contempt for the enactments of the new + police-act—greasy varlets proclaim to the hungry neighbourhood—"Baked + sheeps' heads, hot!"—O! savoury morsel!—May no legislative + measure ever silence this peripatetic purveyor to the poor! or prevent his + calling—may the tag-rag and bob-tail never reject a sheep's head! + </p> + <p> + "I never sees a sheep's head, but I thinks on you," said Mrs. Spriggins, + whose physiognomy was as yellow and as wrinkled as a duck's foot. + Spriggins whipped his horse, for they were driving in a one-horse chaise, + with two boys, and an infant in arms—Spriggins whipped his horse + spitefully, for Mrs. S.'s sarcasm inspired him with a splenetic feeling; + and as he durst not chastise her, the animal received the benefit of her + impetus. Spriggins was a fool by nature, and selfish by disposition. Mrs. + S. was a shrivelled shrew, with a "bit o' money;"—that was the bait + at which he, like a hungry gudgeon, had seized, and he was hooked! The + "spousals" had astonished the vulgar—the little nightingale of + Twickenham would have only smiled; for has he not sweetly sung— + </p> + <p> + "There swims no goose so grey, but soon or late <br /> She finds some + honest gander for her mate;" + </p> + <p> + and her union was a verification of this flowing couplet. + </p> + <p> + At different times, what different meanings the self-same words obtain. + According to the reading of the new poor-law guardians, "Union," as far as + regards man and wife, is explained "Separation;" or, like a ship when in + distress, the "Union" is reversed! In respect of his union, Spriggins + would have most relished the reading of the former! But there are + paradoxes—a species of verbal puzzle—which, in the course of + this ride, our amiable family of the Spriggins's experienced to their + great discomfort. + </p> + <p> + Drawing up a turnpike-gate, Mrs. S. handed a ticket to the white-aproned + official of the trust. + </p> + <p> + "You should have gone home the way you came out—that ticket won't do + here," said the man; "so out with your coppers—three-pence." + </p> + <p> + "I don't think I've got any half-pence!" said Mr. S., fumbling in his + pennyless pocket. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then, I must give you change." + </p> + <p> + "But I'm afraid I hav'nt got any silver," replied Mr. S., with a long + face.—"I say, mister, cou'dn't you trust me?—I'd be wery sure + to bring it to you." + </p> + <p> + But the man only winked, and, significantly pointing the thumb of his left + hand over his sinister shoulder, backed the horse. + </p> + <p> + "Vell, I'm blessed," exclaimed Mr. S.—and so he was—with a + scolding wife and a squalling infant; "and they calls this here a trust, + the fools! and there ain't no trust at all!" + </p> + <p> + And the poor animal got another vindictive cut. Oh! Mr. Martin!—thou + friend of quadrupeds!—would that thou had'st been there. "It's all + my eye and Betty Martin!" muttered Mr. S., as he wheeled about the jaded + beast he drove, and retraced the road. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A RIMAROLE—PART II. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Acti labores sunt jucundi"</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Rigmarole2" id="Rigmarole2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Rigmarole2.jpg (85K)" src="images/Rigmarole2.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THE horse is really a noble animal—I hate all rail-roads, for + putting his nose out of joint—puffing, blowing, smoking, jotting—always + going in a straight line: if this mania should continue, we shall soon + have the whole island ruled over like a copy-book—nothing but + straight lines—and sloping lines through every county in the + kingdom! + </p> + <p> + Give me the green lanes and hills, when I'm inclined to diverge; and the + smooth turnpike roads, when disposed to "go a-head."—"I can't bear a + horse," cries Numps: now this feeling is not at all reciprocal, for every + horse can bear a man. "I'm off to the Isle of Wight," says Numps: "Then + you're going to Ryde at last," quoth I, "notwithstanding your hostility to + horse-flesh." "Wrong!" replies he, "I'm going to Cowes." "Then you're + merely a mills-and-water traveller, Numps!" The ninny! he does not know + the delight of a canter in the green fields—except, indeed, the said + canter be of the genus-homo, and a field preacher! + </p> + <p> + My friend Rory's the boy for a horse; he and his bit o' blood are + notorious at all the meetings. In fact I never saw him out of the saddle: + he is a perfect living specimen of the fabled Centaur—full of + anecdotes of fox-chases, and steeple-chases; he amuses me exceedingly. I + last encountered him in a green lane near Hornsey, mounted on a roadster—his + "bit o' blood" had been sent forward, and he was leisurely making his way + to the appointed spot. + </p> + <p> + "I was in Buckinghamshire last week," said he; "a fine turn out—such + a field! I got an infernal topper tho'—smashed my best tile; tell + you how it was. There was a high paling—put Spitfire to it, and she + took it in fine style; but, as luck would have it, the gnarled arm of an + old tree came whop against my head, and bonneted me completely! Thought I + was brained—but we did it cleverly however—although, if ever I + made a leap in the dark, that was one. I was at fault for a minute—but + Spitfire was all alive, and had it all her own way: with some difficulty I + got my nob out of the beaver-trap, and was in at the death!" + </p> + <p> + I laughed heartily at his awkward dilemma, and wishing him plenty of + sport, we parted. + </p> + <p> + Poor Rory! he has suffered many a blow and many a fall in his time; but he + is still indefatigable in the pursuit of his favourite pastime—so + true is it—that + </p> + <p> + "The pleasure we delight in physic's pain;" + </p> + <p> + his days pass lightly, and all his years are leap years! + </p> + <p> + He has lately inherited a considerable property, accumulated by a miserly + uncle, and has most appropriately purchased an estate in one of the + Ridings of Yorkshire! + </p> + <p> + With all his love for field-sports, however, he is no better "the better," + says he, "is often the worse; and I've no notion of losing my acres in + gambling; besides, my chief aim being to be considered a good horseman, I + should be a consummate fool, if, by my own folly, I lost my seat!" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + A RIGMAROLE—PART III. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + <i>"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</i> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Rigmarole3" id="Rigmarole3"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Rigmarole3.jpg (87K)" src="images/Rigmarole3.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + THE sad only hate a joke. Now, my friend Rory is in no sense a sad fellow, + and he loves a joke exceedingly. His anecdotes of the turf are all racy; + nor do those of the field less deserve the meed of praise! Lord F____ was + a dandy sportsman, and the butt of the regulars. He was described by Rory + as a "walkingstick"—slender, but very "knobby"—with a pair of + mustaches and an eye-glass. Having lost the scent, he rode one day slick + into a gardener's ground, when his prad rammed his hind-legs into a brace + of hand-glasses, and his fore-legs into a tulip-bed. The horticulturist + and the haughty aristocrat—how different were their feelings—the + cucumber coolness of the 'nil admirari' of the one was ludicrously + contrasted with the indignation of the astonished cultivator of the soil. + "Have you seen the hounds this way?" demanded Lord F____, deliberately + viewing him through his glass. + </p> + <p> + "Hounds!" bitterly repeated the gardener, clenching his fist. "Dogs, I + mean," continued Lord F____; "you know what a pack of hounds are—don't + you?" + </p> + <p> + "I know what a puppy is," retorted the man; "and if so be you don't budge, + I'll spile your sport. But, first and foremost, you must lug out for the + damage you have done—you're a trespasser." + </p> + <p> + "I'm a sportsman, fellow—what d'ye mean?" + </p> + <p> + "Then sport the blunt," replied the gardener; and, closing his gates, took + Lord F____ prisoner: nor did he set him free till he had reimbursed him + for the mischief he had done. + </p> + <p> + This was just; and however illegal were the means, I applauded them for + the end. + </p> + <p> + Our friend B___d, that incorrigible punster, said, "that his horse had put + his foot in—and he had paid his footing," + </p> + <p> + B___d, by the bye, is a nonpareil; whether horses, guns, or dogs, he is + always "at home:" and even in yachting, (as he truly boasts) he is never + "at sea." Riding with him one day in an omnibus, I praised the convenience + of the vehicle; "An excellent vehicle," said he, "for punning;"—which + he presently proved, for a dowager having flopped into one of the seats, + declared that she "never rid vithout fear in any of them omnibus things." + </p> + <p> + "What is she talking about?" said I. + </p> + <p> + "De omnibus rebus," replied he,—"truly she talks like the first lady + of the land; but, as far as I can see, she possesses neither the carriage + nor the manners!" + </p> + <p> + "Can you read the motto on the Conductor's button?" I demanded. "No;" he + replied, "but I think nothing would be more appropriate to his calling + than the monkish phrase—'pro omnibus curo!'" + </p> + <p> + At this juncture a jolt, followed by a crash, announced that we had lost a + wheel. The Dowager shrieked. "We shall all be killed," cried she; "On'y to + think of meeting vun's death in a common omnibus!" + </p> + <p> + "Mors communis omnibus!" whispered B___d, and—— + </p> + <p> + I had written thus far, when spit—spit—splutter—plop!—my + end of candle slipped into the blacking bottle in which it was + "sustained," and I was left to admire—the stars of night, and to + observe that "Charles's wain was over the chimney;" so I threw down my pen—and, + as the house was a-bed—and I am naturally of a "retiring" + disposition, I sought my pallet—dreaming of literary fame!—although, + in the matter of what might be in store for me, I was completely in the + dark! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <a name="Intercepted_Letter1" id="Intercepted_Letter1"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Intercepted_Letter1.jpg (61K)" + src="images/Intercepted%20Letter1.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + eppin-toosday + </p> + <p> + my dear sam + </p> + <p> + i've rote this ere for to let you no i'm in jolly good health and harty as + a brick—and hope my tulip as your as vell——read this to + sal who can't do the same herself seeing as her edication aintt bin in + that line——give her my love and tell her to take care o' the + kids.——i've got a silk vipe for sal, tell her; and suffing for + 'em all, for i've made a xlent spec o' the woy'ge and bagg'd some tin too + i can tell you; and vont ve have a blow out ven i cums amung you——napps——that's + the ass——is particklar vell and as dun his dooty like a + riq'lar flint—— + </p> + <p> + i rode too races ar' needn't say as i vun em for napps is a houtanhouter + an no mistake! + </p> + <p> + lork! didn't i make the natifs stare! and a gintlum as vos by, vanted to + oan 'im an oferd any blunt for im but walker! says i there aint sick a ass + as this 'ere hanimal in the hole country——besides he's like as + vun o' me oan famly, for i've brot im up in a manner from the time he vos + a babby!——he's up to a move or too and knows my voice jist for + all the world like a Chrissen. + </p> + <p> + Red-nose Bill vot had a nook 'em down here brings this and he'll tell you + all about the noose——i shall foller in about, a veek or so——tell + sal to keep up her sperrits and not to lush vith Bet——i dont + like that ere ooman at all——a idle wagabone as is going to the + Union like vinkin——i'm no temperens cove meself as you nose, + sam, but enufs enuf and as good as a feast. + </p> + <p> + The gintry as taken hervite a likin to Napps and me——they + looks upon im as hervite a projidy——for he's licked all the + donkies as run agin im——the vimmen too——(you no my + insinnivating vay, sam,) and nobody nose better than me how to git the + right sow by the ear——no sooner do i see 'em a comin vith + their kids, than i slips of and doffs my tile, an i says, says i——do + let the yung jentlum have a cast——and then the little in + coorse begins a plegyin the old 'uns, and——so the jobs done! + </p> + <p> + ——vot's to pay, my good man? says she + </p> + <p> + ——oh——nothink, marm, says i, as modest as a turnip + new-peeld——napps is a rig'lar racer——i dont let im + hout but i'm so fond o' children! + </p> + <p> + ——this here Yummeree doos the bisnis prime, for the vimmen + comes over the jentlum and a pus is made up for anuther race——and + in coorse i pockits the Bibs——cos vy?——napps is + nothink but a good 'un. + </p> + <p> + 'tother day hearin as there vos an hunt in the naborwood:——napps, + says i-a——speakin to my ass——napps ve'll jist go + and look at 'em—— + </p> + <p> + ——vell ve hadnt got no more nor a mile wen i comes slap + alongside of a starch-up chap upatop of raythur a good lookin' oss.——but + my i! vornt there bellows to mend; and he made no more vay nor a duck in a + gutter.——i says, sir, says i, dye think ve shall be in time + for the hunt? but he never turns is hed but sets bolt uprite as stiff as + pitch——jist for all the world as if his mother had vashed im + in starch. + </p> + <p> + ——i twigs his lean in a jiffy——so i says says i + "oh-you needn't be so shy i rides my own hannimal,"—— + </p> + <p> + ——vich i takes it vos more nor he co'd say, for his vas nothin + more nor a borrod'un and if i dont mistake he vos a vitechapler——i + think ive seed im a sarvin out svipes and blue ruin at the gin-spinners + corner o' summerset street or petticut lane——dunno witch. + </p> + <p> + ——sam, i hates pride so i cuts his cumpny——i says + says i——napps it dont fit you aint a nunter you're o'ny a + racer and that chaps afeard his prad vill be spiled a keeping conapny with + a ass——leastways i'm o' the same opinyon in that respec + consarning meself and——so i shall mizzle. + </p> + <p> + ——a true gintlum as is a gintlum, sam is as difrent to these + here stuck-up fellers az a sovrin is to a coronashun copper vot's on'y + gilt. + </p> + <p> + vell lie turns hof over the left and vips up his animal tryin to get up a + trot——bobbin up and down in his sturrups and bumpin hisself to + make a show——all flummery!——he takes the middel o' + the field to hisself, and i cox my i for a houtlet and spi's a gait——that's + the ticket! says i; so liting the 'bacca and blowin a cloud I trots along, + and had jist cum to the gait ven turnin' round to look for the + gin-spinner, blow me! sam, if i didn't see the cove again heels over head + over an edge——like a tumler at bartlmy fare;——vile + his preshus hannimal vas a takin it cooly in the meddo! <br /><br /><br /><br /> + <a name="Intercepted_Letter2" id="Intercepted_Letter2"></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Intercepted_Letter2.jpg (76K)" + src="images/Intercepted%20Letter2.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + "vat a rum chap"—says i, a larfin reddy to bust——"vat a + rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay! ven here's a riglar gait to ride + through!" + </p> + <p> + ——and so, i druv on, but somehow, sam, i coudn't help a + thinkin' as praps the waggerbun lead broke his nek——stif as it + vas! and so i said to napps——"napps,"——says i——"lets + go and look arter the warmint for charity's-sake" + </p> + <p> + ——napps vots as good-natur'd a ass as his master, didn't make + no obstacle and so ve vent—- + </p> + <p> + ——my i!——sam, i'd a stood a Kervorten and three + outs ad you a bin there!——there vas my jentlum up to his nek + in a duckpond——lookin' as miserribble as a stray o' mutton in + a batter puddin' + </p> + <p> + "halp! halp!" says he, a spittin' the green veeds out of his mouth——"halp + me, faller, and i'll stand a bob" or summat to that efeck. + </p> + <p> + ——but i couldn't hold out my fin to him for larfin——and + napps begun a brayin at sich a rate——vich struck me as if he + vas a larfin too, and made me larf wusser than ever—— + </p> + <p> + ——vell, at last, i contrivis to lug him out, and a preshus + figger he cut to be sure——he had kervite a new sute o' black + mud, vich didn't smell particlar sveet i can tell you. + </p> + <p> + ——"ain't hurt yoursef?" says i, "have you?" + </p> + <p> + ——"no"——says he——"but i'm dem wet and + utterably spiled"——or vords like that for he chewd'em so fine + i couldn't rightly hit 'em. + </p> + <p> + ——ater i'd scraped him a little desent, and he'd tip'd a hog——vich + vas rayther hansum——i ax'd him vere he'd left his tile? + </p> + <p> + "tile?"——says he——a yogglin his i's and openin' + his jaws like a dyin' oyster "yes your castor"——says i, "your + beaver your hat." + </p> + <p> + "Oh!"——says he, p'inting dismal to the pond——"gone + to the devil d___ me!"——so vith that he takes out a red and + yuller vipe, and ties it about his hed, lookin' for all the vorld like a + apple-ooman. + </p> + <p> + ——as he had come down hansum i in coorse ofer'd to ketch his + prad vich va'n't much difficulty——and up he jumps and lepped + with a squosh into the saddle——and rid of vithout as much as + sayin' by your leave good luck to you or anythink else—— + </p> + <p> + —-vell, this here vos the end and upshot o' that day's fun for I vos + too late for the start by ten minnits——i saw 'em goin' it at a + distance so i takes a sight!——but i had too much valley for + napes to put im to it so as to get up vith 'em——or he might a + done it praps!—- + </p> + <p> + ——i've lived like a fightin cock and am as fatt as butter——but + the race is goin' to begin in a hour and i must go and ketch napps who's a + grazin on the commun and looks oncommun vell——so no more at + present from, + </p> + <p> + Yours, my prime 'un, + </p> + <p> + dick stammer. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" + width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, by Robert Seymour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + +***** This file should be named 5650-h.htm or 5650-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/5/6/5/5650/ + +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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/old/orig5650-h.zip b/old/orig5650-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bb4feb --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h.zip diff --git a/old/orig5650-h/5650-h.htm b/old/orig5650-h/5650-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f67df57 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h/5650-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,728 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES, Complete.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:15%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + +<h1><a href="#contents">SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</a></h1> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, 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.net + + +Title: The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), Complete + +Author: Robert Seymour + +Release Date: October 29, 2006 [EBook #5650] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + +<a name="contents"></a> +<br><br> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big>Part 1.</big></a></td><td> Everyday Scenes and Sports</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big>Part 2.</big></a></td><td> Other Scenes </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big>Part 3.</big></a></td><td> Miscellaneous</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> A Day's Pleasure </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big>Part 5.</big></a></td><td> Andrew Mullins Autobiography </td></tr> + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + <h3>EVERYDAY SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + SCENE I. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene1">Sleeping Fisherman.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE II. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene2">A lark—early in the morning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE III. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene3">The rapid march of Intellect!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE IV. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene4">Sally, I told my missus vot you said.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE V. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene5">How does it fit behind?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VI. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene6">Catching-a cold.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene7">This is vot you calls rowing, is it?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VIII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene8">In for it, or Trying the middle.</a></td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + <br><br> + <h3>A DAY'S SPORT.</h3> + <center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap1">The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap2">The Death of a little Pig</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap3">The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap4">Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap5">A Publican taking Orders.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap6">The Reckoning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap7">A sudden Explosion</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<h3>OTHER SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + + SCENE IX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene9">Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE X. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene10">I begin to think I may as well go back.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene11">Mother says fishes comes from hard roes</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene12">Ambition.</a> </td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene13">Better luck next time.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIV. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene14">Don't you be saucy, Boys.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XV. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene15">Vy, Sarah, you're drunk!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene16">Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene17">I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene18">Have you read the leader in this paper</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene19">An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene20">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene21">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.(Continued)</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene22">The Itinerant Musician.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene23">The Confessions of a Sportsman.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<h3>MISCELLANEOUS.</h3> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd1 Jolly Anglers">THE JOLLY ANGLERS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd2 Bill Sticker">THE BILL-STICKER.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE III. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd3 Old Foozel">OLD FOOZLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IV. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd4 Crack Shots 1">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE V. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd5 Crack Shots 2">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VI. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd6 Crack Shots 3">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. III.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd7 Doctor Spraggs">DOCTOR SPRAGGS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VIII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd8 Scene9b">[SCENE IX.(b)] Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IX. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd9 Pouter">THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE X. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd10 Picnic1">THE PIC-NIC. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XI. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd11 Picnic2">THE PIC-NIC. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd12 Bumpkin">THE BUMPKIN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + FRONTPIECE II. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Title - Shooting">SHOOTING</a></td></tr><tr><td> + TITLE PAGE II. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Title - Vol 2">VOLUME II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd13 Watty Williams">[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd14 Delicacy">DELICACY!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd15 Now Jem">Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd16 Steaming">STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd17 Peter 1">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd18 Peter 2">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd19 Dobbs">DOBBS'S "DUCK."—A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd20 Strawberries">STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd21 Pleasure 1">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.—THE JOURNEY OUT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd22 Pleasure 2">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II.—THE JOURNEY HOME.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd23 Hammering">[HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream </a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd24 Practice">PRACTICE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd25 Precept">PRECEPT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd26 Example">EXAMPLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd27 Musical">A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd28 Eating House">THE EATING HOUSE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Scene10b Lonely Spot">[SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd29 Gone">GONE!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd30 Joker 1">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd31 Joker 2">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd32 Whiting">FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + ANDREW MULLINS.</td></tr><tr><td> + —AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.</td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins1">Introductory </a> </td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins1">Let the neighbors smell ve has something</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins3">I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins4">A Situation.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins5">The Stalking Horse.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins6">A Commission.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins7">The Cricket Match</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VIII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins8">The Hunter.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IX. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins9">A Row to Blackwall.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. X. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins10">The Pic-Nic.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins11">The Journey Home.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins12">Monsieur Dubois.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins13">My Talent Called into Active Service.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins14">A Dilemma.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins15">An Old Acquaintance.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins16">The Loss of a Friend.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins17">Promotion.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + A RIGMAROLE.</td></tr><tr><td> + PART I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole1">"De omnibus rebus."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole2">"Acti labores Sunt jucundi"</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART III. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole3">"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + INTERCEPTED LETTER</td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Intercepted Letter1">Dye think ve shall be in time for the hunt?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Intercepted Letter2">Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay!</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>Complete</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Titlepage"></a><img alt="Titlepage.jpg (43K)" src="images/Titlepage.jpg" height="919" width="630"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><a name="Title2"></a><img alt="Title2.jpg (94K)" src="images/Title2.jpg" height="1098" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> + +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> + + +</blockquote></blockquote> + + + +<br><br> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big>Part 1.</big></a></td><td> Everyday Scenes and Sports</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big>Part 2.</big></a></td><td> Other Scenes </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big>Part 3.</big></a></td><td> Miscellaneous</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> A Day's Pleasure </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> Andrew Mullins Autobiography </td></tr> + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, by Robert Seymour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + +***** This file should be named 5650-h.htm or 5650-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/5/6/5/5650/ + +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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text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + +<h1><a href="#contents">SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</a></h1> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, 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.net + + +Title: The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), Complete + +Author: Robert Seymour + +Release Date: October 29, 2006 [EBook #5650] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + +<a name="contents"></a> +<br><br> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big>Part 1.</big></a></td><td> Everyday Scenes and Sports</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big>Part 2.</big></a></td><td> Other Scenes </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big>Part 3.</big></a></td><td> Miscellaneous</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> A Day's Pleasure </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p5.htm"><big>Part 5.</big></a></td><td> Andrew Mullins Autobiography </td></tr> + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + <h3>EVERYDAY SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + SCENE I. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene1">Sleeping Fisherman.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE II. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene2">A lark—early in the morning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE III. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene3">The rapid march of Intellect!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE IV. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene4">Sally, I told my missus vot you said.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE V. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene5">How does it fit behind?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VI. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene6">Catching-a cold.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene7">This is vot you calls rowing, is it?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VIII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Scene8">In for it, or Trying the middle.</a></td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + <br><br> + <h3>A DAY'S SPORT.</h3> + <center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap1">The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap2">The Death of a little Pig</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap3">The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap4">Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap5">A Publican taking Orders.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap6">The Reckoning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="p1.htm#Chap7">A sudden Explosion</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<h3>OTHER SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + + SCENE IX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene9">Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE X. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene10">I begin to think I may as well go back.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene11">Mother says fishes comes from hard roes</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene12">Ambition.</a> </td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene13">Better luck next time.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIV. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene14">Don't you be saucy, Boys.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XV. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene15">Vy, Sarah, you're drunk!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene16">Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene17">I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene18">Have you read the leader in this paper</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene19">An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XX. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene20">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXI. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene21">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.(Continued)</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene22">The Itinerant Musician.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXIII. </td><td><a href="p2.htm#Scene23">The Confessions of a Sportsman.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<h3>MISCELLANEOUS.</h3> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd1 Jolly Anglers">THE JOLLY ANGLERS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd2 Bill Sticker">THE BILL-STICKER.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE III. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd3 Old Foozel">OLD FOOZLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IV. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd4 Crack Shots 1">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE V. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd5 Crack Shots 2">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VI. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd6 Crack Shots 3">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. III.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd7 Doctor Spraggs">DOCTOR SPRAGGS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VIII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd8 Scene9b">[SCENE IX.(b)] Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IX. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd9 Pouter">THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE X. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd10 Picnic1">THE PIC-NIC. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XI. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd11 Picnic2">THE PIC-NIC. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XII. </td><td><a href="p3.htm#Odd12 Bumpkin">THE BUMPKIN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + FRONTPIECE II. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Title - Shooting">SHOOTING</a></td></tr><tr><td> + TITLE PAGE II. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Title - Vol 2">VOLUME II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd13 Watty Williams">[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd14 Delicacy">DELICACY!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd15 Now Jem">Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd16 Steaming">STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd17 Peter 1">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd18 Peter 2">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd19 Dobbs">DOBBS'S "DUCK."—A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd20 Strawberries">STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd21 Pleasure 1">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.—THE JOURNEY OUT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd22 Pleasure 2">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II.—THE JOURNEY HOME.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd23 Hammering">[HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream </a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd24 Practice">PRACTICE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXV. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd25 Precept">PRECEPT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd26 Example">EXAMPLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd27 Musical">A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd28 Eating House">THE EATING HOUSE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Scene10b Lonely Spot">[SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXX. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd29 Gone">GONE!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXI. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd30 Joker 1">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd31 Joker 2">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXIII. </td><td><a href="p4.htm#Odd32 Whiting">FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + ANDREW MULLINS.</td></tr><tr><td> + —AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.</td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins1">Introductory </a> </td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins1">Let the neighbors smell ve has something</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins3">I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins4">A Situation.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins5">The Stalking Horse.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins6">A Commission.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins7">The Cricket Match</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VIII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins8">The Hunter.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IX. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins9">A Row to Blackwall.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. X. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins10">The Pic-Nic.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins11">The Journey Home.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins12">Monsieur Dubois.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins13">My Talent Called into Active Service.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins14">A Dilemma.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XV. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins15">An Old Acquaintance.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVI. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins16">The Loss of a Friend.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVII. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Mullins17">Promotion.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + A RIGMAROLE.</td></tr><tr><td> + PART I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole1">"De omnibus rebus."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole2">"Acti labores Sunt jucundi"</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART III. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Rigmarole3">"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + INTERCEPTED LETTER</td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Intercepted Letter1">Dye think ve shall be in time for the hunt?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="p5.htm#Intercepted Letter2">Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay!</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>Complete</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Titlepage"></a><img alt="Titlepage.jpg (43K)" src="images/Titlepage.jpg" height="919" width="630"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><a name="Title2"></a><img alt="Title2.jpg (94K)" src="images/Title2.jpg" height="1098" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> + +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> + + +</blockquote></blockquote> + + + +<br><br> + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> + + + +<tr><td><a href="p1.htm"><big>Part 1.</big></a></td><td> Everyday Scenes and Sports</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p2.htm"><big>Part 2.</big></a></td><td> Other Scenes </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p3.htm"><big>Part 3.</big></a></td><td> Miscellaneous</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> A Day's Pleasure </td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="p4.htm"><big>Part 4.</big></a></td><td> Andrew Mullins Autobiography </td></tr> + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sketches of Seymour (Illustrated), +Complete, by Robert Seymour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES OF SEYMOUR *** + +***** This file should be named 5650-h.htm or 5650-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/5/6/5/5650/ + +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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Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> + + +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br><br><br> + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + + + <h3>EVERYDAY SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + SCENE I. </td><td><a href="#Scene1">Sleeping Fisherman.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE II. </td><td><a href="#Scene2">A lark—early in the morning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE III. </td><td><a href="#Scene3">The rapid march of Intellect!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE IV. </td><td><a href="#Scene4">Sally, I told my missus vot you said.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE V. </td><td><a href="#Scene5">How does it fit behind?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VI. </td><td><a href="#Scene6">Catching-a cold.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VII. </td><td><a href="#Scene7">This is vot you calls rowing, is it?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE VIII. </td><td><a href="#Scene8">In for it, or Trying the middle.</a></td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + <br><br> + <h3>A DAY'S SPORT.</h3> + <center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="#Chap1">The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="#Chap2">The Death of a little Pig</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="#Chap3">The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="#Chap4">Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="#Chap5">A Publican taking Orders.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="#Chap6">The Reckoning.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="#Chap7">A sudden Explosion</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h1>EVERYDAY SCENES.</h1></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><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."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Scene1"></a><img alt="Scene1.jpg (97K)" src="images/Scene1.jpg" height="928" width="642"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<p>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! + +<p>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. + +<p>My pockets, too, are picked! Yes—some clever 'artist' has drawn me +while asleep! + +<p>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.' + +<p>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!' + +<p>Slush! slush!—Squash! squash! + +<p>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! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>A lark—early in the morning.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Scene2"></a><img alt="Scene2.jpg (63K)" src="images/Scene2.jpg" height="1049" width="637"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>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. + +<p>"Surely I heard the notes of a bird," cried one, looking up and down the +street; "there it is again, by jingo!" + +<p>"It's a lark, I declare," asserted his brother sportsman. + +<p>"Lark or canary, it will be a lark if we can bring it down," replied his +companion. + +<p>"Yonder it is, in that ere cage agin the wall." + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Miserable! I was once in a cage myself," said his chum. + +<p>"And what did they take you for?" + +<p>"Take me for?—for a 'lark.'" + +<p>"Pretty Dickey!" + +<p>"Yes, I assure you, it was all 'dickey' with me." + +<p>"And did you sing?" + +<p>"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?" + +<p>"Excellent." + +<p>"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." + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>"Bolt!" cried the freedom-giving youth, "or we shall have to pay for the +lark." + +<p>"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." + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE III.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"You shall have the paper directly, Sir, but really the debates are so +very interesting."</i> + +<p><i>"Oh! pray don't hurry, Sir, it's only the scientific notices I care +about."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene3"></a><img alt="Scene3.jpg (62K)" src="images/Scene3.jpg" height="894" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p> +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. + +<p>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.' + +<p>But the dustman may be said, 'par excellence,' to bear—the bell! + +<p>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! + +<p>They talk of 'Peel,' and 'Hume,' and 'Stanley,' and bandy about their +names as familiarly as if they were their particular acquaintances. + +<p>"What a dust the Irish Member kicked up in the House last night," remarks +one. + +<p>"His speech was a heap o' rubbish," replied the other. + +<p>"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." + +<p>"And so am I, for my Sal says as how it's so genteel!" + +<p>"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—" + +<p>"What's the liberty of the press?" + +<p>"Why calling people what thinks different from 'em all sorts o' +names—arn't that a liberty?" + +<p>"Ay, to be sure!—but it's time to cut—so down with the dust—and let's +bolt!" + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE IV.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Oh! Sally, I told my missus vot you said your missus said about her."—<br><br> +"Oh! and so did I, Betty; I told my missus vot you said yourn said of +her, and ve had sich a row!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center> +<a name="Scene4"></a><img alt="Scene4.jpg (61K)" src="images/Scene4.jpg" height="989" width="605"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +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! + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>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! + +<p>SALLY. +Vell! I could'nt stand that!—If I was you, I'd soon give her warning. + +<p>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! + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE V.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders—we'll never +trouble the tailors again, I promise them."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene5"></a><img alt="Scene5.jpg (56K)" src="images/Scene5.jpg" height="905" width="617"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p> +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. + +<p>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. + +<p>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! + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>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! + +<p>And proud ought that man to be of such a wife; for never was mortal +'suited' so before! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE VI.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Catching—a cold."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene6"></a><img alt="Scene6.jpg (78K)" src="images/Scene6.jpg" height="945" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<p> +WHAT a type of true philosophy and courage is this Waltonian! + +<p>Cool and unmoved he receives the sharp blows of the blustering wind—as +if he were playing dummy to an experienced pugilist. + +<p>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! + +<p>Bent and sharp as his own hook, he watches his smooth float in the rough, +but finds, alas! that it dances to no tune. + +<p>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! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE VII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"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."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene7"></a><img alt="Scene7.jpg (73K)" src="images/Scene7.jpg" height="955" width="635"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p> +"MISTER Vaterman, vot's your fare for taking me across?" + +<p>"Across, young 'ooman? vy, you looks so good-tempered, I'll pull you +over for sixpence?" + +<p>"Are them seats clean?" + +<p>"O! ker-vite:—I've just swabb'd 'em down." + +<p>"And werry comfortable that'll be! vy, it'll vet my best silk?" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Fellow!" + +<p>"The arm of my jacket I mean; there's no harm in that, you know." + +<p>"Is it quite safe? How the wind blows!" + +<p>"Lord! how timorsome you be! vy, the vind never did nothin' else since I +know'd it." + +<p>"O! O! how it tumbles! dearee me!" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Is it werry deep?" + +<p>"Deep as a lawyer." + +<p>"O! I really feel all over"— + +<p>"And, by Gog, you'll be all over presently—don't lay your hand on my +scull!" + +<p>"You villin, I never so much as touched your scull. You put me up." + +<p>"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. + +<p>"O! you partic'lar fool!" exclaimed the waterman. "Ay, hold on a-stern, +and the devil take the hindmost, say I!" + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>SCENE VIII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>In for it, or Trying the middle.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene8"></a><img alt="Scene8.jpg (89K)" src="images/Scene8.jpg" height="947" width="659"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + A little fat man +<br> With rod, basket, and can, +<br> And tackle complete, +<br> Selected a seat +<br> On the branch of a wide-spreading tree, +<br> That stretch'd over a branch of the Lea: +<br> There he silently sat, +<br> Watching his float—like a tortoise-shell cat, +<br> That hath scented a mouse, +<br> In the nook of a room in a plentiful house. +<br> But alack! +<br> He hadn't sat long—when a crack +<br> At his back +<br> Made him turn round and pale— +<br> And catch hold of his tail! +<br> But oh! 'twas in vain +<br> That he tried to regain +<br> The trunk of the treacherous tree; +<br> So he +<br> With a shake of his head +<br> Despairingly said— +<br> "In for it,—ecod!" +<br> And away went his rod, +<br> And his best beaver hat, +<br> Untiling his roof! +<br> But he cared not for that, +<br> For it happened to be a superb water proof, +<br> Which not being himself, +<br> The poor elf! +<br> Felt a world of alarm +<br> As the arm +<br> Most gracefully bow'd to the stream, +<br> As if a respect it would show it, +<br> Tho' so much below it! +<br> No presence of mind he dissembled, +<br> But as the branch shook so he trembled, +<br> And the case was no longer a riddle +<br> Or joke; +<br> For the branch snapp'd and broke; +<br> And altho' +<br> The angler cried "Its no go!" +<br> He was presently—'trying the middle.' + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h1>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>A DAY'S SPORT</h2></center> +<br><br> +<center><h3>"Arena virumque cano."</h3></center> + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<center><h2>CHAPTER I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Invitation—the Outfit—and the sallying forth.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap1"></a><img alt="Chap1.jpg (53K)" src="images/Chap1.jpg" height="941" width="593"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>TO Mr. AUGUSTUS SPRIGGS, +<p>AT Mr. WILLIAMS'S, GROCER, ADDLE STREET. + +<p> (Tower Street, 31st August, 18__) + +<p>My dear Chum, + +<p>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 + +<p>"Together we will range the fields;" + +<p>and if we don't have some prime sport, my name's not Dick, that's all. + +<p>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. + +<p>Mind, I won't take no refusal—so pitch it strong to the old 'un, and +carry your resolution nem. con. + +<p>And believe me to be, your old Crony, + +<p>RICHARD GRUBB. + +<p>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. + +<p> +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. + +<p>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. + +<p>"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. + +<p>"I dessay—" + +<p>"Do you hang out at Highgate?" continued the sportsman. + +<p>"Hang out?" + +<p>"Ay, are you a hinhabitant?" + +<p>"To be sure I am." + +<p>"Is there any birds thereabouts?" + +<p>"Plenty o' geese," sharply replied the old gentleman. + +<p>"Ha! ha! werry good!—but I means game;—partridges and them sort o' +birds." + +<p>"I never see any except what I've brought down." + +<p>"I on'y vish I may bring down all I see, that's all," chuckled the +joyous Mr. Grubb. + +<p>"What's the matter?" + +<p>"I don't at all like that 'ere gun." + +<p>"Lor! bless you, how timorsome you are, 'tain't loaded." + +<p>"Loaded or not loaded, it's werry unpleasant to ride with that gun o' +yours looking into one's ear so." + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"Vere's my instrument o' destruction?" enquired the lively Augustus, +when he had succeeded in mounting to his seat. + +<p>"Stow'd him in the boot!" + +<p>The coachman mounted and drove off; the sportsmen chatting and +laughing as they passed through 'merry Islington.' + +<p>"Von't ve keep the game alive!" exclaimed Spriggs, slapping his friend +upon the back. + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"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. + +<p>Arrived at Highgate, the old gentleman, with a step-fatherly anxiety, +bade them take care of the 'spring-guns' in their perambulations. + +<p>"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!" + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Death of a little Pig, which proves a great Bore!</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap2"></a><img alt="Chap2.jpg (74K)" src="images/Chap2.jpg" height="959" width="635"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"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!" + +<p>Having charged, they shouldered their pieces and waded through the +tall grass. + +<p>"O! crikey!—there's a heap o' birds," exclaimed Spriggs, looking up +at a flight of alarmed sparrows. "Shall I bring 'em down?" + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"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!" + +<p>Bang! bang! went the two guns, and a piercing squeak followed the +report. + +<p>"Ve've tickled him," exclaimed Spriggs, as they ran to pick up the +spoil. + +<p>"Ve've pickled him, rayther," cried Grubbs, "for by gosh it's a +piggy!" + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Now my fine fellow," cried he, brandishing his staff, "you 'ither +pays for that 'ere pig, or ve'll fix you in the cage." + +<p>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.' + +<p>Mr. Stubbs, the owner, stepped forward, and valued it at eighteen +shillings. + +<p>"Vot! eighteen shillings for that 'ere little pig!" exclaimed the +astounded sportsman. "Vy I could buy it in town for seven any day." + +<p>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! + +<p>Shouldering his gun, he joined his companion in arms, amid the jibes +and jeers of the grinning rustics. + +<p>"Vell, I'm blowed if that ain't a cooler!" said he. + +<p>"Never mind, ve've made a hit at any rate," said the consoling +Spriggs, "and ve've tried our metal." + +<p>"Yes, it's tried my metal preciously—changed a suv'rin to two bob! by +jingo!" + +<p>"Let's turn Jews," said Spriggs, "and make a vow never to touch pork +again!" + +<p>"Vot's the use o' that?" + +<p>"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. + +<p>"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!" + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER III.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure—Grubb gets on a paling and +runs a risk of being impaled.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap3"></a><img alt="Chap3.jpg (74K)" src="images/Chap3.jpg" height="983" width="659"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"Twig them trees?"—said Grubb. + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"Think ve could leap the ditch?" said Mr. Richard, regarding with a +longing look the tall trees and the thick underwood. + +<p>"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 he +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! + +<p>"Oh!—cuss the thing!" shrieked Mr. Spriggs, losing his equanimity +with his equilibrium. + +<p>"Don't be in a passion, Spriggs," said Grubb, laughing. + +<p>"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. + +<p>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. + +<p>"Ve've done him!" cried Spriggs. + +<p>"Ve!—me, if you please." + +<p>"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!" + +<p>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. + +<p>"There's a man a coming, old fellow," said an urchin, grinning. + +<p>"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. + +<p>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. + +<p>"Here you are!" cried his affectionate friend,—picking him up—"ain't +you cotch'd it finely?" + +<p>"Ain't I, that's all?" said the almost breathless Mr. Grubb, "I'm +almost dead." + +<p>"Dead!—nonsense—to be sure, you may say as how you're off the hooks! +and precious glad you ought to be." + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Vy, vat the dickins!" exclaimed Spriggs, "you ain't sewed up yet, are +you?" + +<p>"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. + +<p>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. + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf!</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap4"></a><img alt="Chap4.jpg (70K)" src="images/Chap4.jpg" height="941" width="645"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"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. + +<p>"Hush!" cried Grubb, laying his hand upon his arm—"see that bird +hopping there?" + +<p>"Ve'll soon make him hop the twig, and no mistake," remarked Spriggs. + +<p>"There he goes into the 'edge to get his dinner, I s'pose." + +<p>"Looking for a 'edge-stake, I dare say," said the facetious Spriggs. + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Hit summat at last!" exclaimed the delighted Grubb, scampering +towards the thorny barrier, and clambering up, he peeped into an +adjoining garden. + +<p>"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. + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Vot's frightened you?" demanded Spriggs, trotting off beside his +chum, +"You ain't done nothing, have you?" + +<p>"On'y shot a man, that's all." + +<p>"The devil!" + +<p>"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. + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"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—" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"My vig!" cries Mr. Grubb, "there's a covey on 'em." + +<p>"Vere?" + +<p>"There!" + +<p>"Charge 'em, my lad." + +<p>"Stop! fust charge our pieces." + +<p>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. + +<p>Up flew the birds, and with trembling hands they simultaneously +touched the triggers. + +<p>"Ve've nicked some on 'em." + +<p>"Dead as nits," said Spriggs. + +<p>"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." + +<p>"It can't be nothin' but a balloon then," replied Spriggs, "for ve on'y +fired in the hair I'll take my 'davy." + +<p>Turning to the right and the left and observing nothing, they boldly +advanced in order to appropriate the spoil. + +<p>"Here's feathers at any rate," said Spriggs, "ve've blown him to +shivers, by jingo!" + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"Vot are they, Dick?" inquired Spriggs, whose ornithological knowledge +was limited to domestic poultry; "sich voppers ain't robins or sparrers, +I take it." + +<p>"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." + +<p>"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. + +<p>"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!" + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER V.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>An extraordinary Occurrence—a Publican taking Orders.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap5"></a><img alt="Chap5.jpg (80K)" src="images/Chap5.jpg" height="991" width="641"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +TYING the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggs +proudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends. + +<p>After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, what +they termed, an house of "hentertainment." + +<p>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. + +<p>"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." + +<p>The Landlord eyed the 'game' through his spectacles, and smiled. + +<p>"Roasted, or biled, Sir?" demanded he. + +<p>"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." + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Greens!" echoed Spriggs, indignantly; "no:—peas and 'taters." + +<p>"Directly, Sir," replied the landlord; and taking charge of the two +leetle birds, he departed, to prepare them for the table. + +<p>"Vot a rum cove that 'ere is," said Grubb. + +<p>"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! + +<p>"Vell! I must, say," said Grubb, stretching his weary legs under the +mahogany, "I never did spend sich a pleasant day afore—never!" + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"I must say ve have seen a little life," said Grubb. + +<p>"And death too," added Spriggs. "Vitness the pig!" + +<p>"Now don't!" remonstrated Grubb, who was rather sore upon this part of +the morning's adventures. + +<p>"And the gardener,"—persisted Spriggs. + +<p>"Hush for goodness sake!" said Mr. Richard, very seriously, "for if +that 'ere affair gets vind, ve shall be blown, and—" + +<p>—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. + +<p>The birds were particularly sweet, but afforded little more than a +mouthful to each. + +<p>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. + +<p>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! + +<p>The talkative Spriggs became taciturn. His gallantry, however, did +prompt him, upon the production of a 'fresh pot,' to say, + +<p>"Vell, Grubbs, my boy, here's the gals!" + +<p>"The gals!" languidly echoed Mr. Richard, tossing off his tumbler, +with a most appropriate smack. + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Reckoning.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap6"></a><img alt="Chap6.jpg (85K)" src="images/Chap6.jpg" height="1036" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"PULL the bell, Spriggs," said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill." + +<p>Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared. + +<p>"Vot's to pay?" + +<p>"Send you the bill directly, gentlemen," replied the landlord, bowing, +and trundling out of the room. + +<p>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. + +<p>"My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his +dilating oculars over the slip. + +<p>"Vy, vot's the damage?" enquired Spriggs. + +<p>"Ten and fourpence." + +<p>"Ten and fourpence!—never!" cried his incredulous companion. "Vot a +himposition." + +<p>"Vell!" said Mr. Grubb, with a bitter emphasis, "if this is finding +our own wittles, we'll dine at the hor'nary next time"— + +<p>"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"— + +<p>"Vot consequence is that to us?" said Grubbs, doggedly. + +<p>"Vell, never mind, Dick, it's on'y vonce a-year, as the grotto-boys +says—" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Ve shall get through it the sooner," replied the consoling Spriggs. +"I see, Grubb, there aint a bit of the Frenchman about you"— + +<p>"Vy, pray?" + +<p>"Cos, you know, they're fond o' changing their suv'rins, and—you +aint!" + +<p>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. + +<p>"Come, don't look at the bill no more," advised Spriggs, "but treat it +as old Villiams does his servants ven they displeases him." + +<p>"How's that?" + +<p>"Vy, discharge it, to be sure," replied he. + +<p>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. + +<p>"Werry pleasant!" remarked Spriggs. + +<p>"Keep your powder dry," said Grubb. + +<p>"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." + +<p>"I vish I'd brought a numberella," said Grubbs. + +<p>"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!" + +<p>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. + +<p>"I say, Dick," said Spriggs, "vy are ve two like razors?" + +<p>"Cos ve're good-tempered?" + +<p>"Werry good; but that aint it exactly—cos ve're two bright blades, +vot has got a beautiful edge!" + +<p>"A hexcellent conundrum," exclaimed Grubb. "Vere do you get 'em?' + +<p>"All made out of my own head,—as the boy said ven be showed the +wooden top-spoon to his father!" + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>A sudden Explosion—a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the other +takes amiss.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Chap7"></a><img alt="Chap7.jpg (78K)" src="images/Chap7.jpg" height="1081" width="623"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, +took up the rain! + +<p>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. + +<p>"O! Lord! I'm shot." + +<p>"O! my heye!" exclaimed the trembling Spriggs. + +<p>"O! my nose!" roared Grubb. + +<p>"Here's a go!" + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Vere's your hankercher?—here!—take mine,—that's it—there!—let's +look at it." + +<p>"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. + +<p>"Yes!" + +<p>"I can't feel it," said Grubb; "it's numbed like dead." + +<p>"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!" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"Vy not?—your face ain't touched, it's on'y your nose!" + +<p>"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." + +<p>"It vos a terrible blow—certainly," said Spriggs; "but these things +vill happen in the best riggle'ated families!" + +<p>"How can that be? there's no piece, in no quiet and respectable +families as I ever seed!" + +<p>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! + +<p>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. + +<p>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. + +<p>The following parody of a customary paragraph in the papers will be +considered, we think, a most fitting conclusion to their day's sport. + +<p>"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." + + + +<br><br> + + + + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p2.htm">Next Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Inside Papers"></a><img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" height="1119" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/orig5650-h/p2.htm b/old/orig5650-h/p2.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf739d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h/p2.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1306 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES, Part 2.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>PART TWO</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Titlepage"></a><img alt="Titlepage.jpg (43K)" src="images/Titlepage.jpg" height="919" width="630"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><a name="Title2"></a><img alt="Title2.jpg (94K)" src="images/Title2.jpg" height="1098" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + + +<h3>OTHER SCENES.</h3> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + + SCENE IX. </td><td><a href="#Scene9">Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE X. </td><td><a href="#Scene10">I begin to think I may as well go back.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XI. </td><td><a href="#Scene11">Mother says fishes comes from hard roes</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XII. </td><td><a href="#Scene12">Ambition.</a> </td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIII. </td><td><a href="#Scene13">Better luck next time.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIV. </td><td><a href="#Scene14">Don't you be saucy, Boys.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XV. </td><td><a href="#Scene15">Vy, Sarah, you're drunk!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVI. </td><td><a href="#Scene16">Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVII. </td><td><a href="#Scene17">I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XVIII. </td><td><a href="#Scene18">Have you read the leader in this paper</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XIX. </td><td><a href="#Scene19">An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XX. </td><td><a href="#Scene20">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXI. </td><td><a href="#Scene21">The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.(Continued)</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXII. </td><td><a href="#Scene22">The Itinerant Musician.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + SCENE XXIII. </td><td><a href="#Scene23">The Confessions of a Sportsman.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h1>OTHER SCENES</h1></center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h2>SCENE IX.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman—she +can't get over the wall to us."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene9"></a><img alt="Scene9.jpg (70K)" src="images/Scene9.jpg" height="953" width="623"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +One day two urchins got +<br>A pistol, powder, horn, and shot, +<br>And proudly forth they went +<br>On sport intent. +<br>"Oh, Tom! if we should shoot a hare," +<br>Cried one, +<br>The elder son, +<br>"How father, sure, would stare!" +<br>"Look there! what's that?" +<br>"Why, as I live, a cat," +<br>Cried Bill, "'tis mother Tibbs' tabby; +<br>Oh! what a lark +<br>She loves it like a babby! +<br>And ain't a cat's eye, Tom, as good a mark +<br>As any bull's eyes?" +<br>And straight "Puss! puss!" he cries, +<br>When, lo! as Puss approaches, +<br>They hear a squall, +<br>And see a head and fist above the wall. +<br>'Tis tabby's mistress +<br>Who in great distress +<br>Loads both the urchins with her loud reproaches, +<br>"You little villains! will ye shoot my cat? +<br>Here, Tink! Tink! Tink! +<br>O! lor' a' mercy! I shall surely sink, +<br>Tink! Tink!" +<br>Tink hears her voice—and hearing that, +<br>Trots nearer with a pit-a-pat! +<br>"Now, Bill, present and fire, +<br>There's a bold 'un, +<br>And send the tabby to the old 'un." +<br>Bang! went the pistol, and in the mire +<br>Rolled Tink without a mew— +<br>Flop! fell his mistress in a stew! +<br>While Bill and Tom both fled, +<br>Leaving the accomplish'd Tink quite finish'd, +<br>For Bill had actually diminish'd +<br>The feline favorite by a head! +<br>Leaving his undone mistress to bewail, +<br>In deepest woe, +<br>And to her gossips to relate +<br>Her tabby's fate. +<br>This was her only consolation—for altho' +<br>She could not tell the head—she could the tail! + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE X.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>SEPTEMBER 1ST,—AN ONLY OPPORTUNITY.</i> +<p><i>"I begin to think I may as well go back."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene10"></a><img alt="Scene10.jpg (76K)" src="images/Scene10.jpg" height="1003" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +MY vig! vat a pelter this is— +<br>Enough all my hardour to tame; +<br>In veather like this there's no sport, +<br>It's too much in earnest for game! +<br> +<p>A ladle, I might as well be, +<br>Chain'd fast to a hold parish pump, +<br>For, by goles! it comes tumbling down, +<br>Like vinking,—and all of a lump. +<br> +<br><p>The birds to their nestes is gone, +<br>I can't see no woodcock, nor snipe; +<br>My dog he looks dogged and dull, +<br>My leggins is flabby as tripe! +<br> +<p>The moors is all slipp'ry slush, +<br>I'm up to the neck in the mire; +<br>I don't see no chance of a shot, +<br>And I long-how I long for a fire! +<br> +<br><p>For my clothes is all soak'd, and they stick +<br>As close as a bailiff to me +<br>Oh! I wish I was out o' this here, +<br>And at home with my mother at tea! +<br> +<p>This is the fust, as I've got +<br>Permission from uncle to shoot; +<br>He hadn't no peace till he give +<br>This piece, and the powder to boot! +<br> +<p>And vat's it all come to at last?— +<br>There isn't no chance of a hit, +<br>I feel the rain's all down my back, +<br>In my mouth though I hav'n't a bit! +<br> +<p>O! it's werry wezaatious indeed! +<br>For I shan't have another day soon; +<br>But I'm blow'd, if I don't have a pop— +<br>My eye! I've shot Dash! vot a spoon! +<br> +<p>O! here's a partic'lar mess, +<br>Vot vill mother say to me now? +<br>For he vas her lap-dog and pet, +<br>Oh! I've slaughtered her darling bow-wow! + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XI.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Mother says fishes comes from hard roes, so I chuck'd in the roe of a +red-herring last week, but I doesn't catch any fish yet."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene11"></a><img alt="Scene11.jpg (70K)" src="images/Scene11.jpg" height="951" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +How beautiful is the simplicity of unsophisticated youth! Behold with +what patience this innocent awaits a bite, trusting with perfect faith in +the truth of his affectionate mother's ichthyological knowledge. Wishing +to behold a live fish dangling at the end of his line, he has, with +admirable foresight, drawn up the bucket, that in the ascent the finny +prey may not kick it! It must be a hard roe indeed, that is not softened +by his attentions; but, alas! he is doomed never to draw up a vulgar +herring, or a well-bred fish! + +<p>Folks who are a little deeper read than the boy—(or the +herring!)—may smile at his fruitless attempt, but how many are there that act +through life upon the same principle, casting their lines and fishing +for—compliments, who never obtain even a nibble—for why? their attempts +at applause, like his red-herring, are smoked. He does not know that +herrings are salt-water fish—and, in fact, that the well-water is not +the roes—water! + +<p>But after all, is not such ignorance bliss?—for he enjoys the +anticipated pleasure; and if anticipation be really greater than +reality—what an interminable length will that pleasure be to him! Ever and +anon he draws up his line, like a militia captain for a review;—puts +fresh bait on the crooked pin, and lets it slowly down, and peeps in, +wondering what the fish can be at!—and is quite as much in the dark as +his float. But he may at last, perhaps, discover that he is not so deep +as a well—and wisely resolve to let well—alone; two points which may +probably be of infinite importance to him through life, and enable him to +turn the laugh against those who now mock his ignorance and simplicity. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>Ambition. </i> +<p><i>"He was ambitious, and I slew him."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene12"></a><img alt="Scene12.jpg (54K)" src="images/Scene12.jpg" height="1033" width="631"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +WHAT carried Captain Ross to the North Pole? "A ship to be sure!" +exclaims some matter-of-fact gentleman. Reader! It was AMBITION! + +<p>What made barber Ross survey the poll, make wigs, and puff away even +when powder was exploded? What caused him to seek the applause of the +'nobs' among the cockneys, and struggle to obtain the paradoxical +triplicate dictum that he was a werry first-rate cutter!' What made him +a practical Tory? (for he boasts of turning out the best wigs in the +country!) + +<p>What induces men to turn theatrical managers when a beggarly account +of empty boxes nightly proves the Drama is at a discount—all benefits +visionary, and the price of admission is regarded as a tax, and the +performers as ex-actors!—when they get scarcely enough to pay for +lights, and yet burn their fingers?—AMBITION! + +<p>The candidate for the county cringes, and flatters the greasy unwashed +ten-pounders, in order to get at the head of the poll—so likewise the +bumpkin (in imitation of his superior) rubs his hand in the dirt to +enable him to cling fast, and reach the top of the soap'd poll, whereon +the tempting prize is displayed. And, what prompts them both to the +contest?—AMBITION! + +<p>What is the 'primum mobile,' of the adventurous Aeronaut, Mr. Green, +one of the most rising men of the day, who aspires even unto the very +clouds, and in his elevation looks upon all men of woman born as far +beneath him?—AMBITION! + +<p>What prompts the soldier who spends half-a-crown out of sixpence a-day +to thrust his head into the cannon's mouth, to convince the world that he +is desirous of obtaining a good report and that he is fearless of the +charge?—AMBITION! + +<p>What makes the beardless school-boy leap ditches and over posts at the +risk of his neck, and boast that he'll do another's dags'—or the +sporting man turn good horses into filthy dog's meat, in riding so many +miles in so many minutes?—AMBITION! + +<p>What magic influence operates upon the senses of the barrister (a +scholar and a gentleman) to exert his winning eloquence and ingenuity in +the cause of a client, who, in his conscience, he knows to be both +morally and legally unworthy of the luminous defence put forth to prove +the trembling culprit more sinned against than sinning?—AMBITION! + +<p>What urges the vulgar costermonger to bestride his long-ear'd Arabian, +and belabor his panting sides with merciless stick and iron-shod heels +to impel him to the goal in the mimic race—or the sleek and polish'd +courtier to lick the dust of his superiors' feet to obtain a paltry +riband or a star?—AMBITION! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XIII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>Better luck next time.</i> +<p><i>The lamentation of Joe Grishin.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene13"></a><img alt="Scene13.jpg (64K)" src="images/Scene13.jpg" height="875" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"O! Molly! Molly! ven I popp'd my chops through the arey railings, and +seed you smile, I thought you vos mine for ever! I wentur'd all for +you—all—. It war'n't no great stake p'r'aps, but it was a tender vun! +I offer'd you a heart verbally, and you said 'No!' I writ this ere +wollentine, and you returns it vith a big 'No!' + +<p>"O! Molly your 'No's,' is more piercinger and crueller than your heyes. +Me! to be used so:—Me! as refused the vidder at the Coal Shed! (to be +sure she wore a vig and I didn't vant a bald rib!) Me!—but it's o' no +use talking; von may as vell make love to a lamp-post, and expect to feed +von's flame vith lights! But adoo to life; this 'ere rope, fix'd round +the 'best end o' the neck' will soon scrap me, and ven I'm as dead as +mutton, p'r'aps you may be werry sorry. + +<p>"It'll be too late then, Molly, ven you've led me to the halter, to +vish as you'd married me." + +<p>After this bitter burst of wounded feeling, and, urged by the +rejection of his addresses, the love-lorn Butcher mounted a joint-stool, +and stepping on a fence, twisted the awful rope round the branch of a +tree, and then, coiling it about his neck, determined that this day +should be a killing day; vainly supposing, in the disordered state of his +mind, that the flinty-hearted Molly would probably esteem her 'dear' +(like venison) the better for being hung! Mystically muttering 'adoo!' +three times, in the most pathetic tone, he swung off and in an instant +came to his latter end—for the rope snapp'd in twain, and he found +himself seated on the turf below, when he vainly imagined he was +preparing himself for being placed below the turf! + +<p>"Nothin' but disappointments in this world;" exclaimed he, really +feeling hurt by the unexpected fall, for he had grazed his calves in the +meadow, and was wofully vexed at finding himself a lover 'turned off' and +yet 'unhung.' + +<p>Cast down and melancholy, he retraced his steps, and seizing a cleaver +(dreadful weapon!) vented his suicidal humour in chopping, with malignant +fury, at his own block! + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XIV.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>Don't you be saucy, Boys</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene14"></a><img alt="Scene14.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene14.jpg" height="1063" width="631"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"WHAT are you grinning at, boys?" angrily demanded an old gentleman +seated beside a meandering stream, of two schoolboys, who were watching +him from behind a high paling at his rear.—"Don't you know a little +makes fools laugh." + +<p>"Yes, sir! that's quite true, for we were laughing at what you've +caught!" + +<p>"Umph! I tell you what, my lads, if I knew your master, I'd pull you +up, and have you well dressed." + +<p>"Tell that to the fishes," replied the elder, "when you do get a +bite!" + +<p>"You saucy jackanapes! how dare you speak to me in this manner?" + +<p>"Pray, sir, are you lord of the manor? I'm sure you spoke to us +first," said the younger. + +<p>"More than that," continued his companion. "We are above speaking to +you, for you are beneath us!" + +<p>The old gentleman, rather nettled at the glibness of the lads, stuck a +hook vengefully into an inoffensive worm, and threw his line. + +<p>The boys still retained their post, and after many whispered remarks +and tittering, the younger thrust his handkerchief into his mouth to +smother a burst of irrepressible laughter, while the other, assuming a +modest and penitent air, said: + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir." + +<p>"What?" demanded the old gentleman sharply. + +<p>"Hope you are not offended, sir?" + +<p>"Get along with you," replied the unfortunate angler, irritated at his +want of success. + +<p>"I can tell you something, sir," continued the lad;—"there's no fish +to be had where you are. I know the river well. Father's very fond o' +fish; he always brings home plenty. If you like, sir, I can show you the +place." + +<p>Here his companion rolled upon the grass and kicked, perfectly +convulsed with laughter, luckily hidden from the view of the now +mollified old gentleman. + +<p>"Indeed!" cried the angler: "is it far from this?" + +<p>"Not a quarter of a mile," replied the boy. + +<p>"That is nothing. I've walked eighteen this morning," said the old +gentleman, packing up his apparatus. "I'll go with you directly, and +thank you too, for I'm a perfect stranger in these parts." + +<p>When he had joined them, the laughing fits of the younger had +subsided, although he chose to fall in the rear. "Now, to shew you how +much more profitable it is to respect than to mock at your superiors in +years, there's a (let me see)—there's a halfpenny for you to purchase +cakes." + +<p>"Thank ye, sir," said he, and turning to his companion with a wink: +"Here Bill, run to Cummins' and buy a ha'p'orth of eights—we'll make the +most of it—and I'll come to you as soon as I've shown the gentleman the +fish." + +<p>"Show me the place, and I'll find the fish," said the anticipating +angler. + +<p>On they trudged. + +<p>"Must we go through the town?" asked his companion, as he marched with +his long rod in one hand and his can in the other. + +<p>"Yes, sir, it ain't far;" and he walked on at a quicker pace, while +all the crowd of rustics gazed at t e extraordinary appearance of the +armed Waltonian, for it happened to be market-day. After parading him in +this fashion nearly through the town, he presently twitched him by his +coat-sleeve. + +<p>"Look there, sir!" cried he, pointing to a well-stocked fishmonger's. + +<p>"Beautiful!—what a quantity!" exclaimed the venerable piscator. + +<p>"I thought you'd like it, sir—that's the place for fish, sir,—good +morning." + +<p>"Eh! what—you young dog?" + +<p>"That's where father gets all his, I assure you, sir,—good morning," +said the youth, and making a mock reverence, bounded off as fast as his +legs could carry him. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XV.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! I am quite ashamed o' you."</i> +<p><i>"Vell, vots the odds as long as you're happy!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene15"></a><img alt="Scene15.jpg (59K)" src="images/Scene15.jpg" height="863" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +JACK was an itinerant vender of greens, and his spouse was a peripatetic +distributor of the finny tribe, (sprats, herrings or mackerel, according +to the season,) and both picked up a tolerable livelihood by their +respective callings. + +<p>Like the lettuces he sold, Jack had a good heart, and his attention +was first attracted to the subsequent object of his election by the wit +of a passing boy, who asked the damsel how she sold her carrots? Jack's +eyes were in an instant turned towards one whom he considered a +competitor in the trade—when he beheld the physiognomy of his Sarah +beaming with smiles beneath an abundant crop of sunny hair! + +<p>"You are a beauty and no mistake," exclaimed the green grocer in +admiration. + +<p>"Flummery!" replied the damsel—the deep blush of modesty mantling her +cheeks. Jack rested his basket on a post beside her stall, and drank +deep draughts of love, while Sarah's delicate fingers were skilfully +employed in undressing a pound of wriggling eels for a customer. + +<p>"Them's rig'lar voppers!" remarked Jack. + +<p>"Three to a pound," answered Sarah, and so they slipped naturally into +discourse upon trade, its prospects and profits, and gradually a hint of +partnership was thrown out. + +<p>Sarah laughed at his insinuating address, and displayed a set of teeth +that rivalled crimped skate in their whiteness—a month afterwards they +became man and wife. For some years they toiled on together—he, like a +caterpillar, getting a living out of cabbages, and she, like an +undertaker, out of departed soles! Latterly, however, Jack discovered +that his spouse was rather addicted to 'summut short,' in fact, that she +drank like a fish, although the beverage she affected was a leetle +stronger than water. Their profit (unlike Mahomet) permitted them the +same baneful indulgence—and kept them both in spirits! + +<p>Their trade, however, fell off for they were often unable to carry +their baskets. + +<p>The last time we beheld them, Sarah was sitting in the cooling current +of a gutter, with her heels upon the curb (alas! how much did she need a +curb!) while Jack, having disposed of his basket, had obtained a post in +a public situation, was holding forth on the impropriety of her conduct. + +<p>"How can you let yourself down so?" said he,—"You're drunk—drunk, +Sarah, drunk!" + +<p>"On'y a little elevated, Jack." + +<p>"Elevated!—floor'd you mean." + +<p>"Vell; vot's the odds as long as you're happy?" + +<p>Jack finding all remonstrance was vain, brought himself up, and +reeling forward, went as straight home—as he could, leaving his spouse +(like many a deserted wife) soaking her clay, because he refused to +support her! + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XVI.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong! and got to walk all that way back +again."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene16"></a><img alt="Scene16.jpg (95K)" src="images/Scene16.jpg" height="991" width="641"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +A PEDESTRIAN may get robbed of his money on the highway, but a cross-road +frequently robs him of time and patience; for when haply he considers +himself at his journey's end, an impertinent finger-post, offering him +the tardy and unpleasant information that he has wandered from his track, +makes him turn about and wheel about, like Jim Crow, in anything but a +pleasant humor. + +<p>It were well if every wayfarer were like the sailor, who when offered +a quid from the 'bacoo box of a smoker, said, 'I never chews the +short-cut!' and in the same spirit, we strongly advise him, before he takes the +short-cut to think of the returns! + +<p>Should the weather prove rainy, the hungry traveller may certainly get +a wet on the road, although he starves before he reaches the wished-for +inn. + +<p>As there is likewise no more chance of meeting a good tempered guide +on a cross-road, than of finding eggs and bacon, in an edible state, at +least on a common—and as he can no more pull in the summer-rains than he +can the reins of a runaway stallion; the result is, the inexperienced +youth ludicrously represents so many pounds of 'dripping,' and although +he may be thirsty, he will have no cause to complain that he is—dry! +The best mode for an honest man to go round the country, is to take a +straight-forward course, especially when the surcharged clouds do rule +the horizon with sloping lines of rain! Besides, it is by no means a +pleasant thing for a man with a scanty wardrobe, to find his clothes +running away at a most unpleasant rate, while he can scarcely drag one +clay-encumbered leg after the other. + +<p>It is a difficult trial, too, of a man's philosophy, after trudging +over a long field, to be encountered by the mockery of a 'ha! +ha!'—fence! He utters a few bitter expletives, perhaps, but nought avails his railing +against such a fence as that! + +<p>The shower which makes all nature smile, only causes him to laugh—on +the wrong side of his mouth, for he regards it as a temperance man does a +regular soaker! + +<p>Reader! never attempt a bye-way on a wet day, with a stick and bundle +at your back—(if you have a waterproof trunk, you may indeed weather +it)—but go a-head on the turnpike road—the way of all mails—leaving +long and short commons to the goose and donkey—and the probability is, +that you may not only I make a sign before you die, but get a feed—and a +shelter. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XVII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em."</i> + +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene17"></a><img alt="Scene17.jpg (84K)" src="images/Scene17.jpg" height="920" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +IT is a most extraordinary thing, 'pon my veracity: I go out as regularly +as the year, and yet I never bring down an individual bird. + +<p>I have one of the best Mantons going with such a bore! and then I use +the best shot—but not being the best shot in the world myself—I suppose +is the identical reason why I never hit any thing. I think it must arise +from a natural defect in my sight; for when I suppose a covey as near—as +my miser of an uncle—they are probably as distant—as my ninety-ninth +cousin! + +<p>Such a rum go!—the other day I had a troop of fellows at my heels, +laughing like mad; and what do you think?—when I doffed my shooting +jacket, I found some wag had stuck the top of a printed placard on my +back, with the horrid words, "A young Gentleman missing!" + +<p>It was only last week, a whole flight of sparrows rose at my very +feet—I fired—bang!—no go!—but I heard a squall; and elevating my glass, lo! +I beheld a cottage within a few yards of my muzzle—the vulgar peasant +took the trouble to leap his fence, and inform me I had broken his +windows—of course I was compelled to pay him for his panes. + +<p>To be sure he did rather indicate a disposition to take away my +gun—which I certainly should never have relinquished without a +struggle—and so I forked out the dibs, in order to keep the piece! I'm quite +positive, however, that the vagabond over-charged me, and I kicked, as +was quite natural, you know, under such circumstances! + +<p>I really have an imperfect notion of disposing of my +shooting-tackle—but I'm such an unfortunate devil, that I really believe when I post 'em +up for sale—my gun will not go off!—dem me! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XVIII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Have you read the leader in this paper, Mr. Brisket?"</i> +<p><i>"No! I never touch a newspaper; they are all so werry wenal, and Ovoid +of sentiment!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene18"></a><img alt="Scene18.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene18.jpg" height="903" width="627"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +<p>BOB. +<br>O! here's a harticle agin the fools, +<br>Vich our poor British Nation so misrules: +<br>And don't they show 'em up with all their tricks— +<br>By gosh! I think they'd better cut their sticks; +<br>They never can surwive such cuts as these is! + +<p> +BRISKET. +<br>It's werry well; but me it never pleases; +<br>I never reads the news, and sees no merit +<br>In anythink as breathes a party sperrit. + +<p> +BOB. +<br>Ain't you a hinglishman? and yet not feel +<br>A hint'rest, Brisket, in the common-weal? + +<p> +BRISKET. +<br>The common-weal be—anything for me,— +<br>There ain't no sentiment as I can see +<br>In all the stuff these sons of—Britain prate— +<br>They talk too much and do too little for the state. + +<p> +BOB. +<br>O! Brisket, I'm afeard as you're a 'Rad?' + +<p> +BRISKET. +<br>No, honour bright! for sin' I was a lad +<br>I've stuck thro' thick and thin to Peel, or +<br>Vellinton—for Tories is genteeler; +<br>But I'm no politician. No! I read +<br>These 'Tales of Love' vich tells of hearts as bleed, +<br>And moonlight meetins in the field and grove, +<br>And cross-grain'd pa's and wictims of true love; +<br>Wirgins in white a-leaping out o' winders— +<br>Vot some old codger cotches, and so hinders— +<br>From j'ining her true-love to tie the knot, +<br>Who broken-hearted dies upon the spot! + +<p> +BOB. +<br>That's werry fine!—but give me politics— +<br>There's summat stirring even in the tricks +<br>Of them vot's in to keep the t'others out,— +<br>How I Should like to hear the fellers spout! +<br>For some on 'em have sich a lot o' cheek, +<br>If they war'n't stopp'd they'd go it for a week. + +<p> +BRISKET. +<br>But they're so wulgar, Bob, and call sich names +<br>As quite the tag-rag of St. Giles' shames +<br>The press too is so wenal, that they think +<br>All party herrors for the sake o' chink. + +<p> +BOB. +<br>But ain't there no false lovers in them tales, +<br>Vot hover wirgin hinnocence perwails? + +<p> +BRISKET. +<br>Vy, yes, but in the end the right one's married, +<br>And after much to do the point is carried +<br>So give me love sincere and tender, +<br>And all the rest's not worth a bender. + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XIX.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene19"></a><img alt="Scene19.jpg (73K)" src="images/Scene19.jpg" height="896" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>AN EPISTLE + +<p>FROM + +<p>SAMUEL SOFTLY, ESQ. TO HIS FRIEND, RICHARD GUBBINS, ESQ. +OF TOOLEY STREET. + +<p> +O! DICK! + +<p>Such a misfortin' has you never heard on as come upon your friend. +I'll jist give you a breef houtline of the circumstantials as near as +my flurry vill let me. T'other mornin' I vips up my gun for to go +a-shootin', and packin' up my hammunition, and some sanwidges, I bids +adoo to this wile smoky town, vith the intention of gettin' a little +hair. Vell! on I goes a-visshin' and thinkin' on nothin', and happy as +the bumblebees as vos a-numming around me. Vell! a'ter an hour or more's +valking, not an house nor a brick vos wisible. + +<p>Natur', in all her werdur', vos smilin' like a fat babby in its +maternal harms! But, as somebody has it— + +<p>"Man never ain't, but al'ays to be bless'd," + +<p>and I'm bless'd if that ain't true too, as you shall see presently. +Vell! I pops at von bird and then at another; but vether the poor +creturs vos unaccustom'd to guns, and so vos frighten'd, I don't know, +but somehow I couldn't hit 'em no-how. + +<p>Vell! and so I vos jist a-chargin' agin ven a great he-fellow, in a +ruff coat and partic'lar large viskers, accostes me (ciwilly I must say, +but rayther familler)— + +<p>"Birds shy?" says he. + +<p>"Werry;—ain't hit nothin'," says I. + +<p>"I'll tell you vot it is, young gentleman," says he, "it's the +unevenness o' the ground!" + +<p>"D've think so?" says I. + +<p>"Sure on it," says he; "I'm a hold sojer! Know this 'ere place, and +have picked up many a good dinner in it. Look at them fe'l'fares +yonder," says he, "on'y let me have a slap at 'em for you, and see if I +don't finish some on 'em in the twinkling of a pig's visper." + +<p>In course I felt obleeged by sich a hoffer, and hands him the gun. +Vell! I vos a-follerin' him quite pleased, ven he visks round, and +puttin' the muzzle o' the hinstrument fist agin my vescoat, says he, "Now +you've lent us your gun, you may as vell lend us your votch. I can't +shoot any think for you till I sees vot's o'clock!" + +<p>Here vas a go!—but I see vot vas a clock in a hinstant—and no +mistake. So I cotch'd hold on the two butiful chased seals and tugs it +out. + +<p>"That's the time o' day!" says he, a-cockin' his hugly heye at the +dial; "and now," says he, "as you seems frightened at the gun, I shall +jist put it out o' harm's way." + +<p>And with that he chucks it splash, into a duck-pond, and hoff marches +my hold sojer in a jiffy! I vos putrified! and fell to a-blubberin' like +a hinfant. + +<p>O! Dick, vot's to be done? + +<p>You know I ham, at any rate, + +<p>Yours truly, + +<p>S. SOFTLY. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XX.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene20"></a><img alt="Scene20.jpg (89K)" src="images/Scene20.jpg" height="949" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +AMONG the very few fashionable foibles to which Mr. Wiggins was addicted, +was the smoking of cigars. Attracted by the appearance of a small box +marked 'Marylands—one penny each,' very much resembling lettuce-leaves +with the yellow jaundice, he walked into the chandler's shop where they +were displayed. + +<p>"Let us look at them cigars," said he, and then, for the first time, +glancing at the smart, good-looking mistress of the emporium, he added, +"if you please, ma'am—" + +<p>"Certain'y, sir." + +<p>A pretty little fist that, howsomever! thought Wiggins, as she placed +the box before him. + +<p>"Vill you have a light?" + +<p>"Thank'ye, ma'am," said he, ramming the cigar into his mouth, as if he +really intended to bolt it. + +<p>She twisted a slip of waste, and lighting it, presented it to her +admiring customer, for it was evident, from the rapt manner in which he +scanned her, that he was deeply smitten by her personal appearance. + +<p>She colored, coughed delicately, as the smoke tickled the tonsils of +her throat, and looked full at the youth. Such a look! as Wiggins +asserted. "I'm afeared as the smoke is disagreeable," said he. + +<p>"Oh! dear no, not at all, I assure you; I likes it of all things. +I can't abide a pipe no-how, but I've quite a prevalence (predilection?) +for siggers." So Wiggins puffed and chatted away; and at last, delighted +with the sprightly conversation of the lady, seated himself on the +small-beer barrel, and so far forgot his economy in the fascination of his +entertainer, that he purchased a second. At this favourable juncture, +Mrs. Warner, (for she was a widow acknowledging five-and-twenty) ordered +the grinning shop-boy, who was chopping the 'lump,' to take home them +'ere dips to a customer who lived at some distance. Wiggins, not aware +of the 'ruse,' felt pleased with the absence of one who was certainly 'de +trop' in the engrossing 'tete-a-tete.' We will pass over this +preliminary conversation; for a whole week the same scene was renewed, +and at last Mrs. Warner and Mr. Wiggins used to shake hands at parting. + +<p>"Do you hever go out?" said Wiggns. + +<p>"Sildom-werry sildom," replied the widow. + +<p>"Vos you never at the Vite Cundic, or the hEagle, or any of them +places on a Sunday?" + +<p>"How can I go," replied the widow, sighing, "vithout a purtector?" + +<p>Hereupon the enamoured Wiggins said, "How happy he should be," etc., +and the widow said, "She was sure for her part," etc. and so the affair +was settled. On the following Sunday the gallant Mr. Wiggins figged out, +in his best, escorted the delighted and delightful Mrs. Warner to that +place of fashionable resort, the White Conduit, and did the thing so +handsomely, that the lady was quite charmed. Seated in one of the snug +arbors of that suburban establishment, she poured out the hot tea, and +the swain the most burning vows of attachment. "Mr. Viggins, do you take +sugar?" demanded the fair widow. "Yes, my haingel," answered he, +emphatically. "I loves all wot's sweet," and then he gave her such a +tender squeeze! "Done—do—you naughty man!" cried she, tapping him on +the knuckles with the plated sugar-tongs, and then cast down her eyes +with such a roguish modesty, that he repeated the operation for the sake +of that ravishing expression. Pointing his knife at a pat of butter, he +poetically exclaimed, "My heart is jist like that—and you have made a +himpression on it as time will never put out!" "I did'nt think as you +were quite so soft neither," said the widow. "I ham," replied the +suitor—"and there," continued he, cutting a hot roll, and introducing +the pat, "I melts as easily afore the glance of your beautiful heyes!" +Resolved to carry on the campaign with spirit, he called for two glasses +of brandy and water, stiff, and three cigars! And now, becoming +sentimental and communicative, he declared, with his hand upon his heart, +that "hif there vos a single thing in life as would make him completely +happy, it vos a vife!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XXI.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene21"></a><img alt="Scene21.jpg (71K)" src="images/Scene21.jpg" height="851" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +Mr. Wiggins was so intoxicated with love, brandy-and-water and cigars, +that he scarcely knew how he reached home. He only remembered that he +was very dizzy, and that his charming widow—his guide and friend—had +remonstrated with him upon the elevation of his style, and the +irregularity of his progression. + +<p>With his head in his hand, and a strong "dish of tea" without milk, +before him, he was composing himself for business the following morning, +when an unexpected visitor was announced. + +<p>"Please, sir, there's Mrs. Warner's 's boy as wants to speak vith +you," said his landlady. + +<p>"Show him up," languidly replied our lover, throwing his aching head +from his right to his left hand. + +<p>"Vell, Jim, vot's the matter!" demanded he—"How's your missus?" + +<p>"She ain't no missus o' mine no longer," replied Jim. + +<p>"How?" + +<p>"I tell you vot it is, sir, she promised to give me a shillin'-aweek +an' my feed; an' she ain't done vun thing nor t' other; for I'm bless'd +if I ain't starved, and ain't seen the color of her money sin' I bin +there. Father's goin' to summon her." + +<p>"It's some mistake, sure?" + +<p>"It's no mistake tho'," persisted Jim, "an' I can tell you she ain't +got a farden to bless herself vith!—an' she's over head-and-ears in debt +too, I can tell you; an' she pays nobody—puttin' 'em all off, vith +promises to pay wen she's married." + +<p>"My heye!" exclaimed the excited Wiggins, thrown all a-back by this +very agreeable intention upon his funds. + +<p>"More nor that, sir," continued the revengeful Jim, "I know she thinks +as she's hooked a preshus flat, an' means to marry you outright jist for +vot she can get. An' von't she scatter the dibs?—that's all; she's the +extravagantest 'ooman as hever I came anigh to." + +<p>"But, (dear me! ) she has a good stock—?" + +<p>"Dummies, sir, all dummies." + +<p>"Dummies?" + +<p>"Yes, sir; the sugars on the shelves is all dummies—wooden 'uns, done +up in paper! The herrin' tub is on'y got a few at top—the rest's all +shavins an' waste.—There's plenty o' salt to be sure—but the werry +soap-box is all made up." + +<p>"And so's my mind!" emphatically exclaimed the deluded Wiggins, +slapping the breakfast-table with his clenched fist. + +<p>"Jim—Jim—you're a honest lad, and there's half-a-crown for you— + +<p>"Thank'ye for me, sir," said the errand-boy, grinning with delight—" +"and—and you'll cut the missus, Sir!" + +<p>"For ever!—" + +<p>"Hooray! I said as how I'd have my rewenge!" cried the lad, and +pulling the front of his straight hair, as an apology for a bow, he +retreated from the room. + +<p>"What an escape!" soliloquized Wiggins—"Should n't I ha' bin +properly hampered? that's all. No more insinniwating widows for me!—" + +<p>And so ended the Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XXII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>The Itinerant Musician.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene22"></a><img alt="Scene22.jpg (84K)" src="images/Scene22.jpg" height="970" width="654"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +A WANDERING son of Apollo, with a shocking bad hat, encircled by a +melancholy piece of rusty crape, and arrayed in garments that had once +shone with renovated splendour in that mart of second-hand habiliments +'ycleped Monmouth-street, was affrighting the echoes of a fashionable +street by blowing upon an old clarionet, and doing the 'Follow, hark!' +of Weber the most palpable injustice. + +<p>The red hand of the greasy cook tapped at the kitchen-window below, +and she scolded inaudibly—but he still continued to amuse—himself, as +regardless of the cook's scolding as of the area-railing against which he +leaned, tuning his discordant lay. + +<p>His strain indeed appeared endless, and he still persevered in +torturing the ambient air with, apparently, as little prospect of blowing +himself out as an asthmatic man would possibly have of extinguishing a +smoky link with a wheeze—or a hungry cadger without a penny! + +<p>The master of the mansion was suffering under a touch of the gout, +accompanied by a gnawing tooth-ache!—The horrid noise without made his +trembling nerves jangle like the loose strings of an untuned guitar. + +<p>A furious tug at the bell brought down the silken rope and brought up +an orbicular footman. + +<p>"William" + +<p>"Yes, sir." + +<p>"D—— that, etc.! and send him to, etc.!" + +<p>"Yes, sir." + +<p>And away glided the liveried rotundity.— + +<p>Appearing at the street-door, the musician took his instrument from +his lips, and, approaching the steps, touched his sorry beaver with the +side of his left hand. + +<p>"There's three-pence for you," said the menial, "and master wishes +you'd move on." + +<p>"Threepence, indeed!" mumbled the man. "I never moves on under +sixpence: d'ye think I doesn't know the walley o' peace and quietness?" + +<p>"Fellow!" cried the irate footman, with a pompous air—"Master desires +as you'll go on." + +<p>"Werry well"—replied the other, touching his hat, while the domestic +waddled back, and closed the door, pluming himself upon having settled +the musician; but he had no sooner vanished, than the strain was taken up +again more uproariously than ever. + +<p>Out he rushed again in a twinkling— + +<p>"Fellow! I say—man! vot do you mean?" + +<p>"Vy, now didn't you tell me to go on?" + +<p>"I mean't go off." + +<p>"Then vy don't you speak plain hinglish," said the clarionist; "but, I +say, lug out t'other browns, or I shall say vot the flute said ven his +master said as how he'd play a tune on him." + +<p>"Vot vos that?" + +<p>"Vy, he'd be blow'd if he would!" + +<p>"You're a owdacious fellow." + +<p>"Tip!" was the laconic answer, accompanied by an expressive twiddling +of the fingers. + +<p>"Vell, there then," answered the footman, reluctantly giving him the +price of his silence. + +<p>"Thank'ye," said the musician, "and in time to come, old fellow, never +do nothin' by halves—'cept it's a calve's head!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE XXIII.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>Oh! lor, here's a norrid thing.'</i> +<p><i>The Confessions of a Sportsman.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Scene23"></a><img alt="Scene23.jpg (64K)" src="images/Scene23.jpg" height="929" width="613"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"VELL, for three year, as sure as the Septembers comes, I takes the +field, but somehow or another I never takes nothin' else! My gun's a +good 'un and no mistake!—Percussions and the best Dartford, and all that +too. My haim ain't amiss neither; so there's a fault somewhere, that's +certain. The first time as I hentered on the inwigorating and manly +sport, I valks my werry legs off, and sees nothin' but crows and that +'ere sort o' small game. + +<p>"I vos so aggrawated, that at last I lets fly at 'em in werry spite, +jist as they vos a sendin' of their bills into an orse for a dinner. + +<p>"Bang! goes the piece;—caw! caw! goes the birds; and I dessay I did +for some on 'em, but I don't know, for somehow I vos in sich a preshus +hurry to bag my game, that I jumps clean over vun bank, and by goles! +plump into a ditch on t'other side, up to my werry neck! + +<p>"The mud stuck to me like vax; and findin' it all over vith me, and no +chance o' breaking a cover o' this sort, I dawdled about 'till dusk, and +vos werry glad to crawl home and jump into bed. I vos so 'put out' that +I stayed at home the rest o' that season. + +<p>"The second year come, and my hardor vos agin inflamed. 'Cotch me +a-shootin' at crows,' says I.—Vell, avay I goes a-vhistling to myself, +ven presently I see a solentary bird on the wing; 'a pariwidge, by +jingo!' says I—I cocks—presents, and hits it! Hooray! down it tumbles, +and afore I could load and prime agin, a whole lot o' 'em comes out from +among the trees. 'Here's luck' says I; and jist shouldered my piece, ven +I gets sich a vop behind as sent me at full length. + +<p>"'Vot's that for?' says I. + +<p>"'Vot are you a shootin' at my pigeons for?' says a great hulking, +farmering-looking fellow. + +<p>"A hexplanation follered; and in course I paid the damage, vich stood +me a matter of a suv'rin, for he said he'd take his davy as how it vos a +waluable tumbler!—I never sees a 'go' o' rum and vater but vot I thinks +on it. This vos a sickener. + +<p>"The third year I vos hout agin as fresh as a daisy, ven I made a haim +at a sparrer, or a lark, or summit o' that kind—hit it, in course, and +vos on the p'int o' going for'ard, ven lo! on turning my wision atop o' +the bank afore me, I seed a norrid thing!—a serpent, or a rattle-snake, +or somethink a-curling itself up and a hissing like fun! + +<p>"I trembled like a haspen-leaf, and-didn't I bolt as fast as my werry +legs would carry me, that's all? + +<p>"Since that time I may say, with the chap in the stage-play, that my +parent has kept myself, his only son, at home, for I see no sport in sich +rigs, and perfer a little peace at home to the best gun in the field!"— + + +<br><br> + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p3.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Inside Papers"></a><img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" height="1119" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +</body> +</html> + + + + + diff --git a/old/orig5650-h/p3.htm b/old/orig5650-h/p3.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8b6645 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h/p3.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1155 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES, Part 3.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>PART THREE</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Titlepage"></a><img alt="Titlepage.jpg (43K)" src="images/Titlepage.jpg" height="919" width="630"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><a name="Title2"></a><img alt="Title2.jpg (94K)" src="images/Title2.jpg" height="1098" width="656"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<blockquote><blockquote> +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<h3>MISCELLANEOUS.</h3> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="#Odd1 Jolly Anglers">THE JOLLY ANGLERS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="#Odd2 Bill Sticker">THE BILL-STICKER.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE III. </td><td><a href="#Odd3 Old Foozel">OLD FOOZLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IV. </td><td><a href="#Odd4 Crack Shots 1">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE V. </td><td><a href="#Odd5 Crack Shots 2">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VI. </td><td><a href="#Odd6 Crack Shots 3">THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. III.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VII. </td><td><a href="#Odd7 Doctor Spraggs">DOCTOR SPRAGGS.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE VIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd8 Scene9b">[SCENE IX.(b)] Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE IX. </td><td><a href="#Odd9 Pouter">THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE X. </td><td><a href="#Odd10 Picnic1">THE PIC-NIC. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XI. </td><td><a href="#Odd11 Picnic2">THE PIC-NIC. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XII. </td><td><a href="#Odd12 Bumpkin">THE BUMPKIN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h2>THE JOLLY ANGLERS.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd1 Jolly Anglers"></a><img alt="Odd1 Jolly Anglers.jpg (83K)" src="images/Odd1%20Jolly%20Anglers.jpg" height="924" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>On a grassy bank, beside a meandering stream, sat two gentlemen +averaging forty years of age. The day was sultry, and, weary of casting +their lines without effect, they had stuck their rods in the bank, and +sought, in a well-filled basket of provisions and copious libations of +bottled porter, to dissipate their disappointment. + +<p>"Ain't this jolly? and don't you like a day's fishing, Sam?" + +<p>"O! werry much, werry much," emphatically replied his friend, taking +his pipe from his mouth. + +<p>"Ah! but some people don't know how to go a-fishinq, Sam; they are +such fools." + +<p>"That's a werry good remark o' your'n," observed Sam; "I daresay as +how hangling is werry delightful vhen the fishes vill bite; but vhen they +von't, vhy they von't, and vot's the use o' complaining. Hangling is +just like writing: for instance—you begins vith, 'I sends you this 'ere +line hoping,' and they don't nibble; vell! that's just the same as not +hanswering; and, as I takes it, there the correspondence ends!" + +<p>"Exactly; I'm quite o' your opinion," replied his companion, tossing +off a bumper of Barclay's best; "I say, Sammy, we mustn't empty t'other +bottle tho'." + +<p>"Vhy not?" + +<p>"Cos, do you see, I'm just thinking ve shall vant a little porter to +carry us home: for, by Jingo! I don't think as how either of us can +toddle—that is respectably!" + +<p>"Nonsense! I'd hundertake to walk as straight as a harrow; on'y, I +must confess, I should like to have a snooze a'ter my pipe; I'm used to +it, d'ye see, and look for it as nat'rally as a babby does." + +<p>"Vell, but take t'other glass for a nightcap; for you know, Sammy, if +you sleep vithout, you may catch cold: and, vhatever you do, don't snore, +or you'll frighten the fish." + +<p>"Naughty fish!" replied Sammy, "they know they're naughty too, or else +they voud'nt be so afear'd o' the rod!—here's your health;" and he +tossed off the proffered bumper. + +<p>"Excuse me a-rising to return thanks," replied his friend, grasping +Sammy's hand, and looking at him with that fixed and glassy gaze which +indicates the happy state of inebriety, termed maudlin; "I know you're a +sincere friend, and there ain't nobody as I value more: man and boy have +I knowed you; you're unchanged! you're the same!! there ain't no +difference!!! and I hope you may live many years to go a-fishing, and I +may live to see it, Sammy. Yes, old boy, this here's one of them days +that won't be forgotten: it's engraved on my memory deep as the words on +a tombstone, 'Here he lies! Here he lies!'" he repeated with a hiccup, +and rolled at full length across his dear friend. + +<p>Sammy, nearly as much overcome as his friend, lifted up his head, and +sticking his hat upon it, knocked it over his eyes, and left him to +repose; and, placing his own back against an accommodating tree, he +dropped his pipe, and then followed the example of his companion. + +<p>After a few hours deep slumber, they awoke. The sun had gone down, +and evening had already drawn her star-bespangled mantle over the scene +of their festive sport. + +<p>Arousing themselves, they sought for their rods, and the remnants of +their provisions, but they were all gone. + +<p>"My hey! Sammy, if somebody bas'nt taken advantage of us. My watch +too has gone, I declare." + +<p>"And so's mine!" exclaimed Sammy, feeling his empty fob. "Vell, if +this ain't a go, never trust me." + +<p>"I tell you vot it is, Sammy; some clever hartist or another has seen +us sleeping, like the babes in the wood, and has drawn us at full +length!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE BILL-STICKER.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd2 Bill Sticker"></a><img alt="Odd2 Bill Sticker.jpg (68K)" src="images/Odd2%20Bill%20Sticker.jpg" height="972" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>What a mysterious being is the bill-sticker! How seldom does he make +himself visible to the eyes of the people. Nay, I verily believe there +are thousands in this great metropolis that never saw a specimen. We see +the effect, but think not of the cause. + +<p>He must work at his vocation either at night or at early dawn, before +the world is stirring. + +<p>That he is an industrious being, and sticks to business, there cannot +be the shadow of a doubt, for every dead-wall is made lively by his +operations, and every hoard a fund of information—in such type, too, +that he who runs may read. What an indefatigable observer he must be; +for there is scarcely a brick or board in city or suburb, however newly +erected, in highway or byeway, but is speedily adorned by his +handiwork—aye, and frequently too in defiance of the threatening—"BILL-STICKERS, +BEWARE!"—staring him in the face. Like nature, he appears to abhor a +vacuum. When we behold the gigantic size of some of the modern arches, +we are almost led to suppose that the bill-sticker carries about his +placards in a four-wheeled waggon, and that his paste-pot is a huge +cauldron! How he contrives to paste and stick such an enormous sheet +so neatly against the rugged side of a house, is really astonishing. +Whether three or four stories high, the same precision is remarkable. We +cannot but wonder at the dexterity of his practised hand: The union is as +perfect as if Dan Hymen, the saffron-robed Joiner, had personally +superintended the performance. + +<p>The wind is perhaps the only real enemy he has to fear. How his heart +and his flimsy paper must flutter in the unruly gusts of a March wind! +We only imagine him pasting up a "Sale of Horses," in a retired nook, and +seeing his bill carried away on an eddy! + +<p>We once had the good fortune to witness a gusty freak of this kind. +The bill-sticker had affixed a bill upon the hooks of his stick, +displaying in prominent large characters—"SALE BY AUCTION—Mr. GEO. +ROBINS—Capital Investment,"—and so forth, when a sudden whirlwind took +the bill off the hooks, before it was stuck, and fairly enveloped the +countenance of a dandy gentleman who happened at the moment to be turning +the corner. + +<p>Such a "Capital Investment" was certainly ludicrous in the extreme. + +<p>The poor bill-sticker was rather alarmed, for he had never stuck a +bill before on any front that was occupied. + +<p>He peeled the gentleman as quickly as possible, and stammered out an +apology. The sufferer, however, swore he would prefer a bill against him +at the ensuing sessions. Whether his threat was carried into execution, +or he was satisfied with the damages already received, we know not. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>OLD FOOZLE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Odd3 Old Foozel"></a><img alt="Odd3 Old Foozel.jpg (73K)" src="images/Odd3%20Old%20Foozel.jpg" height="816" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>There is a certain period of life beyond which the plastic mind of man +becomes incapable of acquiring any new impressions. He merely elaborates +and displays the stores he has garnered up in his youth. There are +indeed some rare exceptions to the rule; but few, very few, can learn a +language after the age of forty. 'Tis true that Cowper did not commence +the composition of his delightful poems till he had attained that age; +but then it must be remembered that he had previously passed a life of +study and preparation, and that he merely gave the honey to the world +which he had hived in his youth, bringing to the task a mind polished and +matured by judgment and experience. But, generally speaking, we rather +expect reason than rhyme from an elderly gentleman; and when the reverse +is the case, the pursuit fits them as ridiculously as would a humming-top +or a hoop. Yet there are many who, having passed a life in the sole +occupation of making money—the most unpoetical of all avocations—that +in their retirement entertain themselves with such fantastic pranks and +antics, as only serve to amuse the lookers-on. A retired tradesman, it +is true, may chase ennui and the 'taedium vitae,' by digging and planting +in his kitchen-garden, or try his hand at rearing tulips and hyacinths; +but if he vainly attempt any other art, or dabble in light literature or +heavy philosophy, he is lost. Old Foozle was one of those who, having +accumulated wealth, retire with their housekeepers to spend the remnant +of their days in some suburban retreat, the monotony of whose life is +varied by monthly trips to town to bring tea and grocery, or purchase +some infallible remedy for their own gout, or their housekeeper's +rheumatism. Unfortunately for his peace, Old Foozle accidentally dipped +into a tattered tome of "Walton's Complete Angler;" and the vivid +description of piscatorial pleasures therein set forth so won upon his +mind, that he forthwith resolved to taste them. In vain were the +remonstrances of his nurse, friend, and factotum. The experiment must be +tried. Having more money than wit to spare, he presently supplied +himself with reels and rods and tackle, landing-nets and gentle-boxes, +and all the other necessary paraphernalia of the art. + +<p>Donning his best wig and spectacles, he sallied forth, defended from +the weather by a short Spencer buttoned round his loins, and a pair of +double-soled shoes and short gaiters. So eager was he to commence, that +he no sooner espied a piece of water, than, with trembling hands, he put +his rod together, and displayed his nets, laying his basket, gaping for +the finny prey, on the margin of the placid waters. With eager gaze he +watched his newly-varnished and many-coloured float, expecting +every-moment to behold it sink, the inviting bait being prepared 'secundum +artem.' He had certainly time for reflection, for his float had been +cast at least an hour, and still remained stationary; from which he +wisely augured that he was most certainly neither fishing in a running +stream nor in troubled waters. + +<p>Presently a ragged urchin came sauntering along, and very leisurely +seated himself upon a bank near the devoted angler. Curiosity is natural +to youth, thought Foozle—how I shall make the lad wonder when I pull out +a wriggling fish! + +<p>But still another weary hour passed, and the old gentleman's arms and +loins began to ache from the novel and constrained posture in which he +stood. He grew nervous and uneasy at the want of sport; and thinking +that perhaps the little fellow was acquainted with the locality, he +turned towards him, saying, in the blandest but still most indifferent +tone he could assume, lest he should compromise his dignity by exposing +his ignorance— + +<p>"I say, Jack, are there any fish in this pond?" + +<p>"There may be, sir," replied the boy, pulling his ragged forelock most +deferentially, for Old Foozle had an awful churchwarden-like appearance; +"there may be, but I should think they were weary small, 'cause there vos +no vater in this here pond afore that there rain yesterday." + +<p>The sallow cheeks of the old angler were tinged with a ruddy glow, +called up by the consciousness of his ridiculous position. Taking a +penny from his pocket, he bade the boy go buy some cakes: and no sooner +had he gallopped off, than the disappointed Waltonian hastily packed up +his tackle, and turned his steps homeward; and this was the first and +last essay of Old Foozle. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd4 Crack Shots 1"></a><img alt="Odd4 Crack Shots 1.jpg (76K)" src="images/Odd4%20Crack%20Shots%201.jpg" height="912" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>A club, under the imposing style of the "Crack-Shots," met every +Wednesday evening, during the season, at a house of public entertainment +in the salubrious suburbs of London, known by the classical sign of the +"Magpye and Stump." Besides a trim garden and a small close-shaven +grass-plat in the rear (where elderly gentlemen found a cure for 'taedium +vitae' and the rheumatism in a social game of bowls), there was a meadow +of about five or six acres, wherein a target was erected for the especial +benefit of the members of this celebrated club; we say celebrated, +because, of all clubs that ever made a noise in the world, this bore away +the palm-according to the reports in the neighbourhood. Emulation +naturally caused excitement, and the extraordinary deeds they performed +under its influence we should never have credited, had we not received +the veracious testimony of—the members themselves. + +<p>After the trials of skill, they generally spent the evenings together. + +<p>Jack Saggers was the hero of the party; or perhaps he might be more +appropriately termed the "great gun," and was invariably voted to the +chair. He made speeches, which went off admirably; and he perpetrated +puns which, like his Joe Manton, never missed fire, being unanimously +voted admirable hits by the joyous assembly. + +<p>Their pleasures and their conversation might truly be said to be of a +piece. + +<p>"Gentlemen"—said Jack, one evening rising upon his legs—"Do me the +favour to charge. Are you all primed and loaded? I am about to propose +the health of a gentleman, who is not only an honour to society at large, +but to the 'Crack-Shots' in particular. Gentlemen, the mere mention of +the name of Brother Sniggs—(hear! hear!)—I know will call forth a +volley!—(Hear! hear!) Gentlemen, I give you the health of Brother +Sniggs! make ready, present and fire!" + +<p>Up went the glasses, and down went the liquor in a trice, followed by +three times three, Jack Saggers giving the time, and acting as +"fugle-man." + +<p>Sniggs, nervously fingering his tumbler of "half and half," as if he +wanted the spirit to begin, hemmed audibly, and + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "Having three times shook his head +<br> To stir his wit, thus he said," + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I don't know how it is, but somehows the more a man has to +say, the more he can't! I feel, for all the world, like a gun rammed +tight and loaded to the muzzle, but without flint or priming——" + +<p>"Prime!" exclaimed Jack Saggers; and there was a general titter, and +then he continued; "as we cannot let you off Sniggs, you most go on, you +know." + +<p>"Gentlemen," resumed Sniggs, "I feel indeed so overloaded by the +honors you have conferred on me, that I cannot find words to express my +gratitude. I can only thank you, and express my sincere wish that your +shots may always tell." + +<p>And he sat down amidst unbounded applause. "By no means a-miss!" +cried Jack Saggers. + +<p>"A joke of mine, when I knocked down a bird the other morning," said +Sniggs: "you must know I was out early, and had just brought down my +bird, when leaping into the adjoining field to pick it up, a +bird-catcher, who had spread his nets on the dewy grass, walked right up to +me." + +<p>"I've a visper for you, Sir," says he, as cool as a cucumber; "I don't +vish to be imperlite, but next time you shoots a bird vot I've brought to +my call, I'll shoot you into a clay-pit, that's all!" + +<p>"And pray what did you say, Sniggs?" asked Jack Saggers. + +<p>"Say?—nothing! but I looked unutterable things, and—shouldering my +piece—walked off!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Odd5 Crack Shots 2"></a><img alt="Odd5 Crack Shots 2.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd5%20Crack%20Shots%202.jpg" height="1005" width="645"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"Sniggs's rencontre with the bird-catcher reminds me of Tom Swivel's +meeting with the Doctor," observed Smart. + +<p>"Make a report," cried Jack Saggers. + +<p>"Well, you must know, that I had lent him my piece for a day's +shooting; and just as he was sauntering along by a dead wall near +Hampstead, looking both ways at once for a quarry (for he has a +particular squint), a stout gentleman in respectable black, and topped by +a shovel-hat, happened to be coming in the opposite direction. With an +expression of terror, the old gentleman drew himself up against the +unyielding bricks, and authoritatively extending his walking-stick, +addressed our sportsman in an angry tone, saying: 'How dare you carry a +loaded gun pointed at people's viscera, you booby?' Now Tom is a booby, +and no mistake, and so dropping his under jaw and staring at the +reverend, he answered: 'I don't know vot you mean by a wiserar. I never +shot a wiserar!'" + +<p>"Devilish good!" exclaimed Saggers; and, as a matter of course, +everybody laughed. + +<p>Passing about the bottle, the club now became hilarious and noisy; +when the hammer of the president rapped them to order, and knocked down +Sniggs for a song, who, after humming over the tune to himself, struck up +the following: + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br> CHAUNT + +<br>When the snow's on the ground and the trees are all bare, +<br>And rivers and gutters are turned into ice, +<br>The sportsman goes forth to shoot rabbit or hare, +<br>And gives them a taste of his skill in a trice. +<br>Bang! bang! goes his Joe, +<br>And the bird's fall like snow, +<br>And he bags all he kills in a trice. +<br> +<br> CHORUS. +<br>Bang! bang! goes his Joe, +<br>And the bird's fall like snow, +<br>And he bags all he kills in a trice. +<br> +<br> II. +<br>If he puts up a partridge or pheasant or duck, +<br>He marks him, and wings him, and brings him to earth; +<br>He let's nothing fly—but his piece—and good luck +<br>His bag fills with game and his bosom with mirth. +<br> +<br><p>Bang! bang! goes his Joe, +<br>And the bird's fall like snow, +<br>And good sport fills his bosom with mirth. +<br> +<br> CHORUS. +<br>Bang! bang! et. etc. +<br> +<br> III. +<br>When at night he unbends and encounters his pals, +<br>How delighted he boasts of the sport he has had; +<br>While a kind of round game's on the board, and gals +<br>Are toasted in bumpers by every lad. +<br>And Jack, Jim, and Joe +<br>Give the maid chaste as snow +<br>That is true as a shot to her lad! +<br> +<br>CHORUS. +<br>And Jack, Jim and Joe +<br>Give the maid chaste as snow +<br>That is true as a shot to her lad! +<br> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<p>The customary applause having followed this vocal attempt of Sniggs, +he was asked for a toast or a sentiment. + +<p>"Here's—'May the charitable man never know the want of—'shot.'" said +Sniggs. + +<p>"Excellent!" exclaimed Saggers, approvingly; "By Jupiter Tonans, +Sniggs, you're a true son of—a gun!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE "CRACK-SHOTS."—No. III.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd6 Crack Shots 3"></a><img alt="Odd6 Crack Shots 3.jpg (94K)" src="images/Odd6%20Crack%20Shots%203.jpg" height="899" width="647"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"Sich a lark!" said Bill Sorrel, breaking abruptly in upon the noisy +chorus, miscalled a general conversation; "sich a lark!" + +<p>"Where?" demanded Saggers. + +<p>"You've jist hit it," replied Sorrel, "for it vere worry near 'Vare +vhere it happened. I'd gone hout hearly, you know, and had jist cotched +sight of a bird a-vistling on a twig, and puttered the vords, 'I'll spile +your singin', my tight 'un,' and levelled of my gun, ven a helderly +gentleman, on t'other side of the bank vich vos atween me and the bird, +pops up his powdered noddle in a jiffy, and goggling at me vith all his +eyes, bawls pout in a tantivy of a fright, 'You need'nt be afear'd, sir,' +says I, 'I aint a-haiming at you,' and vith that I pulls my trigger-bang! +Vell, I lost my dicky! and ven I looks for the old 'un, by Jingo! I'd +lost him too. So I mounts the bank vere he sot, but he vas'nt there; so +I looks about, and hobserves a dry ditch at the foot, and cocking my eye +along it, vhy, I'm blessed, if I did'nt see the old fellow a-scampering +along as fast as his legs could carry him. Did'nt I laugh, ready to +split—that's all!" + +<p>"I tell you what, Sorrel," said the president, with mock gravity, "I +consider the whole affair, however ridiculous, most immoral and +reprehensible. What, shall a crack-shot make a target of an elder? +Never! Let us seek more appropriate butts for our barrels! You may +perhaps look upon the whole as a piece of pleasantry but let me tell you +that you ran a narrow chance of being indicted for a breach of the peace! +And remember, that even shooting a deer may not prove so dear a shot as +bringing down an old buck!" + +<p>This humorous reproof was applauded by a "bravo!" from the whole club. + +<p>Sorrel sang—small, and Sniggs sang another sporting ditty. + +<p>"Our next meeting," resumed Saggers, "is on Thursday next when the +pigeon-match takes place for a silver-cup—the 'Crack Shots' against the +'Oriental Club.' I think we shall give them I taste of our quality,' +although we do not intend that they shall lick us. The silver-cup is +their own proposal. The contest being a pigeon-match, I humbly proposed, +as an amendment, that the prize should be a tumbler—which I lost by a +minority of three. In returning thanks, I took occasion to allude to +their rejection of my proposition, and ironically thanked them for having +cut my tumbler." + +<p>"Werry good!" shouted Sorrel. + +<p>"Admirable!" exclaimed Sniggs; and, rising with due solemnity, he +proposed the health of the "worthy president," prefacing his speech with +the modest avowal of his inability to do what he still persisted in doing +and did. + +<p>"Brother Shots!" said Saggers, after the usual honours had been duly +performed, "I am so unaccustomed to speaking (a laugh), that I rise with +a feeling of timidity to thank you for the distinguished honour you have +conferred on me. Praise, like wine, elevates a man, but it likewise +thickens and obstructs his speech; therefore, without attempting any +rhetorical flourish, I will simply say, I sincerely thank you all for the +very handsome manner in which you have responded to the friendly wishes +of Brother Sniggs; and, now as the hour of midnight is at hand, I bid you +farewell. It is indeed difficult to part from such good company; but, +although it is morally impossible there ever can be a division among such +cordial friends, both drunk and sober may at least separate—in +spirits,—and I trust we shall all meet again in health—Farewell!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>DOCTOR SPRAGGS.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Odd7 Doctor Spraggs"></a><img alt="Odd7 Doctor Spraggs.jpg (66K)" src="images/Odd7%20Doctor%20Spraggs.jpg" height="939" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>Old Doctor Spraggs! famed Doctor Spraggs! +<br>Was both well fee'd and fed, +<br>And, tho' no soldier, Doctor Spraggs +<br>Had for his country-bled. +<br> +<br>His patients living far and wide +<br>He was compell'd to buy +<br>A horse; and found no trouble, for +<br>He'd got one in his eye! +<br> +<br>He was a tall and bony steed +<br>And warranted to trot, +<br>And so he bought the trotter, and +<br>Of course four trotters got. +<br> +<br>Quoth he: "In sunshine quick he bounds +<br>"Across the verdant plain, +<br>"And, e'en when showers fall, he proves +<br>"He—doesn't mind the rain!" +<br> +<br>But, oh! one morn, when Doctor Spraggs +<br>Was trotting on his way, +<br>A field of sportsmen came in view, +<br>And made his courser neigh. +<br> +<br>"Nay! you may neigh," quoth Doctor Spraggs, +<br>"But run not, I declare +<br>"I did not come to chase the fox, +<br>"I came to take the—air! +<br> +<br>But all in vain he tugg'd the rein, +<br>The steed would not be stay'd; +<br>The "Doctor's stuff" was shaken, and +<br>A tune the vials play'd. +<br> +<br>For in his pockets he had stow'd +<br>Some physic for the sick; +<br>Anon, "crack" went the bottles all, +<br>And forma a "mixture" quick. +<br> +<br>His hat and wig flew off, but still +<br>The reins he hugg'd and haul'd; +<br>And, tho' no cry the huntsmen heard, +<br>They saw the Doctor—bald! +<br> +<br>They loudly laugh'd and cheer'd him on, +<br>While Spraggs, quite out of breath, +<br>Still gallopp'd on against his will, +<br>And came in at the death. +<br> +<br>To see the Doctor riding thus +<br>To sportsmen was a treat, +<br>And loudly they applauded him— +<br>(Tho' mounted) on his feat! +<br> +<br>MORAL. +<br>Ye Doctors bold, of this proud land +<br>Of liberty and—fogs, +<br>No hunters ride, or you will go +<br>Like poor Spraggs—to the dogs! +<br> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE IX. (b)</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd8 Scene9b"></a><img alt="Odd8 Scene9b.jpg (70K)" src="images/Odd8%20Scene9b.jpg" height="1155" width="677"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites over there?" +"No, but I'm afeard I shall, soon have one." + +<p> +Two youths, by favour of their sponsors, bearing the aristocratic names +of William and Joseph, started early one morning duly equipped, on +piscatorial sport intent. They trudged gaily forward towards a +neighbouring river, looking right and left, and around them, as sharp as +two crows that have scented afar off the carcase of a defunct nag. + +<p>At length they arrived at a lofty wall, on the wrong side of which, +musically meandered the stream they sought. After a deliberate +consultation, the valiant William resolved to scale the impediment, and +cast the line. Joseph prudently remained on the other side ready to +catch the fish—his companion should throw to him! Presently an +exclamation of "Oh! my!" attracted his attention. + +<p>"Have you got a bite?" eagerly demanded Joe. + +<p>"No! by gosh! but I think I shall soon!" cried Bill. Hereupon the +expectant Joseph mounted, and seating himself upon the wall, beheld to +his horror, Master Bill keeping a fierce bull-dog at bay with the butt +end of his fishing-rod. + +<p>"Go it, Bill!" exclaimed Joe, "pitch into him and scramble up." + +<p>The dog ran at him.—Joe in his agitation fell from his position, +while Bill threw his rod at the beast, made a desperate leap, and +clutched the top of the wall with his hands. + +<p>"Egad! I've lost my seat," cried Joe, rolling upon the grass. + +<p>"And so have I!" roared Bill, scrambling in affright over the wall. + +<p>And true it was, that he who had not got a bite before, had got a +bite—behind! + +<p>Bill anathematised the dog, but the ludicrous bereavement he had +sustained made him laugh, in spite of his teeth! + +<p>Joe joined in his merriment. + +<p>"What a burning shame it is?" said he; "truly there ought to be +breaches ready made in these walls, Bill, that one might escape, if not +repair these damages." + +<p>"No matter," replied Bill, shaking his head, "I know the owner—he's a +Member of Parliament. Stop till the next election, that's all." + +<p>"Why, what has that to do with it?" demanded Joe. + +<p>"Do with it," said Bill emphatically, "why, I'll canvass for the +opposite party, to be sure." + +<p>"And what then?" + +<p>"Then I shall have the pleasure of serving him as his dog has served +me. Yes! Joe, the M. P. will lose his seat to a dead certainty!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Another pigeon! egad, I'm in luck's way this morning."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd9 Pouter"></a><img alt="Odd9 Pouter.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd9%20Pouter.jpg" height="1051" width="609"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>Round and red, through the morning fog +<br>The sun's bright face +<br>Shone, like some jolly toping dog +<br>Of Bacchus' race. +<br> +<br>When Jenkins, with his gun and cur +<br>On sport intent, +<br>Through fields, and meadows, many fur— +<br>—longs gaily went. +<br> +<br>He popp'd at birds both great and small, +<br>But nothing hit; +<br>Or if he hit, they wouldn't fall— +<br>No, not a bit! +<br> +<br>"It's wery strange, I do declare; +<br>I never see! +<br>I go at sky-larks in the hair +<br>Or on a tree." +<br> +<br>"It's all the same, they fly away +<br>Has I let fly— +<br>The birds is frightened, I dare say, +<br>And vill not die." +<br> +<br>"Vhy, here's a go! I hav'nt ramm'd +<br>In any shot; +<br>The birds must think I only shamm'd, +<br>And none have got." +<br> +<br>"I'll undeceive 'em quickly now, +<br>I bet a crown; +<br>And whether fieldfare, tit, or crow, +<br>Vill bring 'em down." +<br> +<br>And as he spake a pigeon flew +<br>Across his way— +<br>Bang went his piece—and Jenkins slew +<br>The flutt'ring prey. +<br> +<br>He bagg'd his game, and onward went, +<br>When to his view +<br>Another rose, by fortune sent +<br>To make up two. +<br> +<br>He fired, and beheld it fall +<br>With inward glee, +<br>And for a minute 'neath a wall +<br>Stood gazing he. +<br> +<br>When from behind, fierce, heavy blows +<br>Fell on his hat, +<br>And knock'd his beaver o'er his nose, +<br>And laid him flat. +<br> +<br>"What for," cried Jenkins, "am I mill'd, +<br>Sir, like this ere?" +<br>"You villain, you, why you have kill'd +<br>My pouter rare." +<br> +<br>The sturdy knave who struck him down +<br>With frown replied:— +<br>"For which I'll make you pay a crown +<br>Nor be denied." +<br> +<br>Poor Jenkins saw it was in vain +<br>To bandy words; +<br>So paid the cash and vow'd, again +<br>He'd not shoot birds— +<br> +<br>At least of that same feather, lest +<br>For Pouter shot +<br>Some Dragon fierce should him molest— +<br>And fled the spot. + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE PIC-NIC. No. I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd10 Picnic1"></a><img alt="Odd10 Picnic1.jpg (93K)" src="images/Odd10%20Picnic1.jpg" height="937" width="654"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>A merry holiday party, forming a tolerable boat-load, and well +provided with baskets of provisions, were rowing along the beautiful and +picturesque banks that fringe the river's side near Twickenham, eagerly +looking out for a spot where they might enjoy their "pic-nic" to +perfection. + +<p>"O! uncle, there's a romantic glade;—do let us land there!" exclaimed +a beautiful girl of eighteen summers, to a respectable old gentleman in a +broad brimmed beaver and spectacles. + +<p>"Just the thing, I declare," replied he—"the very spot—pull away, my +lads—but dear me" continued he, as they neared the intended +landing-place, "What have we here? What says the board?" + +<center><p>"PARTIES ARE NOT, ALLOWED TO +<br>LAND AND DINE HERE"</center> + +<p>Oh! oh! very well; then we'll only land here, and dine a little +further on." + +<p>"What a repulsive board"—cried the young lady—"I declare now I'm +quite vex'd"— + +<p>"Never mind, Julia, we won't be bored by any board"—said the jocose +old gentleman. + +<p>"I'm sure, uncle"—said one of the youths—"we don't require any +board, for we provide ourselves." + +<p>"You're quite right, Master Dickey," said his uncle; "for we only came +out for a lark, you know, and no lark requires more than a little turf +for its entertainment; pull close to the bank, and let us land." + +<p>"Oh! but suppose," said the timid Julia, "the surly owner should +pounce upon us, just as we are taking our wine?" + +<p>"Why then, my love," replied he, "we have only to abandon our wine, +and, like sober members of the Temperance Society—take water." + +<p>Pulling the wherry close along side the grassy bank, and fastening it +carefully to the stump of an old tree, the whole party landed. + +<p>"How soft and beautiful is the green-sward here," said the romantic +Julia, indenting the yielding grass with her kid-covered tiny feet; "Does +not a gentleman of the name of Nimrod sing the pleasure of the Turf?" +said Emma: "I wonder if he ever felt it as we do?" + +<p>"Certainly not," replied Master Dickey, winking at his uncle; "for the +blades of the Turf he describes, are neither so fresh nor so green as +these; and the 'stakes' he mentions are rather different from those +contained in our pigeon-pie." + +<p>"But I doubt, Dickey," said his uncle, "if his pen ever described a +better race than the present company. The Jenkins's, let me tell you, +come of a good stock, and sport some of the best blood in the country." + +<p>"Beautiful branches of a noble tree," exclaimed Master Dicky, "but, +uncle, a hard row has made me rather peckish; let us spread the +provender. I think there's an honest hand of pork yonder that is right +worthy of a friendly grasp;—only see if, by a single touch of that +magical hand, I'm not speedily transformed into a boat." + +<p>"What sort of a boat?" cried Julia. "A cutter, to be sure," replied +Master Dicky, and laughing he ran off with his male companions to bring +the provisions ashore. + +<p>Meanwhile the uncle and his niece selected a level spot beneath the +umbrageous trees, and prepared for the unpacking of the edibles. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE PIC-NIC. No. II</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd11 Picnic2"></a><img alt="Odd11 Picnic2.jpg (92K)" src="images/Odd11%20Picnic2.jpg" height="970" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>Notwithstanding the proverbial variety of the climate, there is no +nation under the sun so fond of Pic-Nic parties as the English; and yet +how seldom are their pleasant dreams of rural repasts in the open air +fated to be realized! + +<p>However snugly they may pack the materials for the feast, the pack +generally gets shuffled in the carriage, and consequently their promised +pleasure proves anything but "without mixture without measure." + +<p>The jam-tarts are brought to light, and are found to have got a little +jam too much. The bottles are cracked before their time, and the liberal +supplies of pale sherry and old port are turned into a—little current. + +<p>They turn out their jar of ghirkins, and find them mixed, and all +their store in a sad pickle. + +<p>The leg of mutton is the only thing that has stood in the general +melee. + +<p>The plates are all dished, and the dishes only fit for a lunatic +asylum, being all literally cracked. + +<p>Even the knives and forks are found to ride rusty on the occasion. +The bread is become sop; and they have not even the satisfaction of +getting salt to their porridge, for that is dissolved into briny tears. + +<p>Like the provisions, they find themselves uncomfortably hamper'd; for +they generally chuse such a very retired spot, that there is nothing to +be had for love or money in the neighbourhood, for all the shops are as +distant as—ninety-ninth cousins! + +<p>However delightful the scenery may be, it is counterbalanced by the +prospect of starvation. + +<p>Although on the borders of a stream abounding in fish, they have +neither hook nor line; and even the young gentlemen who sing fail in a +catch for want of the necessary bait. Their spirits are naturally damped +by their disappointment, and their holiday garments by a summer shower; +and though the ducks of the gentlemen take the water as favourably as +possible, every white muslin presently assumes the appearance of a drab, +and, becoming a little limp and dirty, looks as miserable as a lame +beggar! + +<p>In fine, it is only a donkey or a goose that can reasonably expect to +obtain a comfortable feed in a field. It may be very poetical to talk of +"Nature's table-cloth of emerald verdure;" but depend on it, a damask +one, spread over that full-grown vegetable—a mahogany table—is far +preferable. + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE BUMPKIN.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd12 Bumpkin"></a><img alt="Odd12 Bumpkin.jpg (58K)" src="images/Odd12%20Bumpkin.jpg" height="929" width="647"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<p>GILES was the eldest son and heir of Jeremiah Styles—a cultivator of +the soil—who, losing his first wife, took unto himself, at the mature +age of fifty, a second, called by the neighbours, by reason of the +narrowness of her economy, and the slenderness of her body, Jeremiah's +Spare-rib. + +<p>Giles was a "'cute" lad, and his appetite soon became, under his +step-mother's management, as sharp as his wit; and although he continually +complained of getting nothing but fat, when pork chanced to form a +portion of her dietary, it was evident to all his acquaintance that he +really got lean! His legs, indeed, became so slight, that many of his +jocose companions amused themselves with striking at them with straws as +he passed through the farmyard of a morning. + +<p>"Whoy, Giles!" remarked one of them, "thee calves ha' gone to grass, +lad." + +<p>"Thee may say that, Jeames," replied Giles; "or d'ye see they did'nt +find I green enough." + +<p>"I do think now, Giles," said James, "that Mother Styles do feed thee +on nothing, and keeps her cat on the leavings." + +<p>"Noa, she don't," said Giles, "for we boath do get what we can catch, +and nothing more. Whoy, now, what do you think, Jeames; last Saturday, +if the old 'ooman did'nt sarve me out a dish o' biled horse-beans—" + +<p>"Horse-beans?" cried James; "lack-a-daisy me, and what did you do?" + +<p>"Whoy, just what a horse would ha' done, to be sure—" + +<p>"Eat 'em?" + +<p>"Noa—I kicked, and said 'Nay,' and so the old 'ooman put herself into +a woundy passion wi' I. 'Not make a dinner of horsebeans, you dainty +dog,' says she; 'I wish you may never have a worse.'—'Noa, mother,' says +I, 'I hope I never shall.' And she did put herself into such a tantrum, +to be sure—so I bolted; whereby, d'ye see, I saved my bacon, and the old +'ooman her beans. But it won't do. Jeames, I've a notion I shall go a +recruit, and them I'm thinking I shall get into a reg'lar mess, and get +shut of a reg'lar row." + +<p>"Dang it, it's too bad!" said the sympathising James; "and when do +thee go?" + +<p>"Next March, to be sure," replied Giles, with a spirit which was +natural to him—indeed, as to any artificial spirit, it was really +foreign to his lips. + +<p>"But thee are such a scare-crow, Giles," said James; "thee are thin as +a weasel." + +<p>"My drumsticks," answered he, smiling, "may recommend me to the +band—mayhap—for I do think they'll beat anything." + +<p>"I don't like sogering neither," said James, thoughtfully. "Suppose +the French make a hole in thee with a bagnet—" + +<p>"Whoy, then, I shall be 'sewed up,' thee know." + +<p>"That's mighty foine," replied James, shaking his head; "but I'd +rather not, thank'ye." + +<p>"Oh! Jeames, a mother-in-law's a greater bore than a bagnet, depend +on't; and it's my mind, it's better to die in a trench than afore an +empty trencher—I'll list." + +<p>And with this unalterable determination, the half-starved, though +still merry Giles, quitted his companion; and the following month, in +pursuance of the resolve he had made, he enlisted in his Majesty's +service. Fortunately for the youth, he received more billets than +bullets, and consequently grew out of knowledge, although he obtained a +world of information in his travels; and, at the expiration of the war, +returned to his native village covered with laurels, and in the Joyment +of the half-pay of a corporal, to which rank he had been promoted in +consequence of his meritorious conduct in the Peninsula. His father was +still living, but his step-nother was lying quietly in the church-yard. + +<p>"I hope, father," said the affectionate Giles, "that thee saw her +buried in a deep grave, and laid a stone a-top of her?" + +<p>"I did, my son." + +<p>"Then I am happy," replied Giles. + + + + +<br><br> + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><a name="Inside Papers"></a><img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" height="1119" width="646"> + +</center> +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/old/orig5650-h/p4.htm b/old/orig5650-h/p4.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d69f31e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h/p4.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1931 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES, Part 4.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>PART FOUR</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Title - Vol 2"></a><img alt="Title - Vol 2.jpg (90K)" src="images/Title%20-%20Vol%202.jpg" height="953" width="647"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Title - Shooting"></a><img alt="Title - Shooting.jpg (68K)" src="images/Title%20-%20Shooting.jpg" height="1003" width="649"> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + + + +<blockquote><blockquote> +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + FRONTPIECE II. </td><td><a href="#Title - Shooting">SHOOTING</a></td></tr><tr><td> + TITLE PAGE II. </td><td><a href="#Title - Vol 2">VOLUME II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd13 Watty Williams">[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIV. </td><td><a href="#Odd14 Delicacy">DELICACY!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XV. </td><td><a href="#Odd15 Now Jem">Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVI. </td><td><a href="#Odd16 Steaming">STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVII. </td><td><a href="#Odd17 Peter 1">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XVIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd18 Peter 2">PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XIX. </td><td><a href="#Odd19 Dobbs">DOBBS'S "DUCK."—A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XX. </td><td><a href="#Odd20 Strawberries">STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXI. </td><td><a href="#Odd21 Pleasure 1">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.—THE JOURNEY OUT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXII. </td><td><a href="#Odd22 Pleasure 2">A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II.—THE JOURNEY HOME.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd23 Hammering">[HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream </a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIV. </td><td><a href="#Odd24 Practice">PRACTICE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXV. </td><td><a href="#Odd25 Precept">PRECEPT.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVI. </td><td><a href="#Odd26 Example">EXAMPLE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVII. </td><td><a href="#Odd27 Musical">A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXVIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd28 Eating House">THE EATING HOUSE.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXIX. </td><td><a href="#Scene10b Lonely Spot">[SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXX. </td><td><a href="#Odd29 Gone">GONE!</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXI. </td><td><a href="#Odd30 Joker 1">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXII. </td><td><a href="#Odd31 Joker 2">THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE XXXIII. </td><td><a href="#Odd32 Whiting">FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<center><h2>[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd13 Watty Williams"></a><img alt="Odd13 Watty Williams.jpg (68K)" src="images/Odd13%20Watty%20Williams.jpg" height="1029" width="623"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +WATTY WILLIAMS was a studious youth, with a long nose and a short pair of +trowsers; his delight was in the green fields, for he was one of those +philosophers who can find sermons in stones, and good in everything. One +day, while wandering in a meadow, lost in the perusal of Zimmerman on +Solitude, he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a loud "Moo!" and, +turning about, he descried, to his dismay, a curly-fronted bull making +towards him. + +<p>Now, Watt., was so good-humoured a fellow, that he could laugh at an +Irish bull, and withal, so staunch a Protestant, that a papal bull only +excited a feeling of pity and contempt; but a bull of the breed which was +careering towards him in such lively bounds, alarmed him beyond all +bounds; and he forthwith scampered over the meadow from the pugnaceous +animal with the most agile precipitation imaginable; for he was not one +of those stout-hearted heroes who could take the bull by the +horns—especially as the animal appeared inclined to contest the meadow with +him; and though so fond of beef (as he naturally was), he declined a +round upon the present occasion. + +<p>Seeing no prospect of escape by leaping stile or hedge, he hopped the +green turf like an encaged lark, and happily reached a pollard in the +midst of the meadow. + +<p>Climbing up with the agility of a squirrel, he seated himself on the +knobby summit of the stunted willow. + +<p>Still retaining his Zimmerman and his senses, he looked down and +beheld the corniferous quadruped gamboling playfully round his singular +asylum. + +<p>"Very pleasant!" exclaimed he; "I suppose, old fellow you want to have +a game at toss!—if so, try it on with your equals, for you must see, if +you have any gumption, that Watty Williams is above you. Aye, you may +roar!—but if I sit here till Aurora appears in the east, you won't catch +me winking. What a pity it is you cannot reflect as well as ruminate; +you would spare yourself a great deal of trouble, and me a little fright +and inconvenience." + +<p>The animal disdainfully tossed his head, and ran at the tree—and + + <center><p>"Away flew the light bark!" </center> + +<p>in splinters, but the trunk remained unmoved. + +<p>"Shoo! shoo!" cried Watty, contemptuously; but he found that shoo'ing +horns was useless; the beast still butted furiously against the harmless +pollard. + +<p>"Hallo!" cried he to a dirty boy peeping at a distance—"Hallo!" but +the lad only looked round, and vanished in an instant. + +<p>"The little fool's alarmed, I do believe!" said he; "He's only a +cow-boy, I dare say!" And with this sapient, but unsatisfactory conclusion, +he opened his book, and read aloud, to keep up his courage. + +<p>The bull hearing his voice, looked up with a most melancholy leer, the +corners of his mouth drawn down with an expression of pathetic gravity. + +<p>Luckily for Watty, the little boy had given information of his +dilemma, and the farmer to whom the bull belonged came with some of his +men, and rescued him from his perilous situation. + +<p>"The gentleman will stand something to drink, I hope?" said one of the +men. + +<p>"Certainly" said Watty. + +<p>"That's no more than right," said the farmer, "for, according to the +New Police Act, we could fine you." + +<p>"What for?" + +<p>"Why, we could all swear that when we found you, you were so elevated +you could not walk!" + +<p>Hereupon his deliverers set up a hearty laugh. + +<p>Watty gave them half-a-crown; saying, with mock gravity— + +<p>"I was on a tree, and you took me off—that was kind! I was in a +fright, and you laughed at me; that was uncharitable. Farewell!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>DELICACY!</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd14 Delicacy"></a><img alt="Odd14 Delicacy.jpg (70K)" src="images/Odd14%20Delicacy.jpg" height="989" width="627"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>LOUNGING in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer's day, +just at that period when it was the fashion to rail against the beautiful +statue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the Great +Captain— + + <center><p>"The hero of a hundred fights,"—</center> + +<p>"How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House," said I, +"upon this tribute to his military achievements." + +<p>"No doubt," replied B____;" and with all that enthusiasm with which +one man of mettle ever regards another! At the same time, how lightly +must he hold the estimation of the gallant sons of Britain, when he +reflects that he has been compelled to guard his laurelled brow from the +random bullets of a democratic mob, by shot-proof blinds to his noble +mansion: this was: + + <center><p>'The unkindest cut of all,'</center> + +<p>after all his hair-breadth 'scapes, by flood and field, in the +service. of his country, to be compelled to fortify his castle against +domestic foes." + +<p>"A mere passing cloud, that can leave no lasting impression on his +great mind," said I; "while this statue will for ever remain, a memorial +of his great deeds; and yet the complaint is general that the statue is +indelicate—as if, forsooth, this was the first statue exhibited in +'puris naturalibus' in England. I really regard it as the senseless +cavilling of envious minds." + +<p>"True," said B____, laughing; "there is a great deal of railing about +the figure, but we can all see through it!" at the same time thrusting +his walking-stick through the iron-fence that surrounds the pedestal. As +for delicacy, it is a word that is used so indiscriminately, and has so +many significations, according to the mode, that few people rightly +understand its true meaning. We say, for instance, a delicate child; and +pork-butchers recommend a delicate pig! Delicacy and indelicacy depend +on the mind of the recipient, and is not so much in the object as the +observer, rely on't. Some men have a natural aptitude in discovering the +indelicate, both in words and figures they appear, in a manner, to seek +for it. I assure you that. I (you may laugh if you will) have often +been put to the blush by the repetition of some harmless phrase, dropped +innocently from my lips, and warped by one of these 'delicate' gentlemen +to a meaning the very reverse of what I intended to convey. Like men +with green spectacles, they look upon every object through an artificial +medium, and give it a colour that has no existence in itself! + +<p>It was only last week, I was loitering about this very spot, when I +observed, among the crowd of gazers, a dustman dressed in his best, and +his plump doxy, extravagantly bedizened in her holiday clothes, hanging +on his arm. + +<p>As they turned away, the lady elevated the hem of her rather short +garments a shade too high (as the delicate dustman imagined) above her +ancle. He turned towards her, and, in an audible whisper, said, +'Delicacy, my love—'delicacy!'—'Lawks, Fred!' replied the damsel, with +a loud guffaw,'—'it's not fashionable!—besides, vot's the good o' +having a fine leg, if one must'nt show it?' + +<p>So much for opinions on delicacy! + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>"NOW JEM—"</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd15 Now Jem"></a><img alt="Odd15 Now Jem.jpg (73K)" src="images/Odd15%20Now%20Jem.jpg" height="914" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>THE tide is agin us, I know, +<br>But pull away, Jem, like a trump; +<br>Vot's that? O! my vig, it's a barge— +<br>Oh! criky! but that vos a bump! +<br> +<br>How lucky 'twas full o' round coals, +<br>Or ve might ha' capsized her—perhaps! +<br>See, the bargemen are grinning, by goles! +<br>I never seed sich wulgar chaps. +<br> +<br>Come, pull away, Jem, like a man, +<br>A vherry's a coming along +<br>Vith a couple o' gals all agog— +<br>So let us be first in the throng. +<br> +<br>Now put your scull rig'ler in, +<br>Don't go for to make any crabs; +<br>But feather your oar, like a nob, +<br>And show 'em ve're nothink but dabs! +<br> +<br>The vaterman's leering at us, +<br>And the gals is a giggling so— +<br>They take us for green'uns, but ve +<br>Vill soon show 'em how ve can row. +<br> +<br>Alas! for poor Bobby's "show off"— +<br>He slipp'd in a trice from his seat— +<br>While his beaver fell into the stream, +<br>And the gals laugh'd aloud at his feat. +<br> +<br>For his boots were alone to be seen, +<br>As he sprawled like a crab on its back; +<br>While the waterman cried—"Ho! my lads! +<br>I think you'd best try t'other tack!" +<br> +<br>Says Bobby—"You fool, it's your fault; +<br>Look—my best Sunday castor is vet: +<br>Pull ashore, then, as fast as you can. +<br>I can't row no more—I'm upset. +<br> +<br>"I think that my napper is broke, +<br>Abumpin' agin this wile boat; +<br>You may laugh—but I think it's no joke: +<br>And I shan't soon agin be afloat. +<br> +<br>"I'll never take you out agin— +<br>I've had quite enough in this bout!" +<br>Cried Jem—"Don't be angry vith me; +<br>Sit still, and I'll soon—PUT YOU OUT!" + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.</h2></center> + +<br><br> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Steward, bring me a glass of brandy as quick as you can."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd16 Steaming"></a><img alt="Odd16 Steaming.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd16%20Steaming.jpg" height="949" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +SINCE the invention of steam, thousands have been tempted to inhale the +saline salubrity of the sea, that would never have been induced to try, +and be tried, by the experiment of a trip. Like hams for the market, +every body is now regularly salted and smoked. The process, too, is so +cheap! The accommodations are so elegant, and the sailors so smart! +None of the rolling roughness of quid-chewing Jack-tars. Jack-tars! +pshaw! they are regular smoke jacks on board a steamer! The Steward +("waiter" by half the cockneys called) is so ready and obliging; and then +the provisions is excellent. Who would not take a trip to Margate? +There's only one thing that rather adulterates the felicity—a drop of +gall in the cup of mead!—and that is the horrid sea-sickness! learnedly +called nostalgia; but call it by any name you please, like a stray dog, +it is pretty sure to come. + +<p>The cold perspiration—the internal commotion—the brain's +giddiness—the utter prostration of strength—the Oh! I never shall forget the +death-like feel!—Fat men rolling on the deck, like fresh caught +porpoises; little children floundering about; and white muslins and +parasols vanishing below! The smoking-hot dinner sends up its fumes, and +makes the sick more sick. Soda-water corks are popping and flying about +in every direction, like a miniature battery pointed against the assaults +of the horrid enemy! + +<p>"Steward!" faintly cries a fat bilious man, "bring me a glass of +brandy as quick as you can." + +<p>But alas! he who can thus readily summon spirits from the vasty deep, +has no power over the rolling sea, or its reaches! + +<p>"O! my poor pa!" exclaims the interesting Wilhelmina; and is so +overcome, that she, sweet sympathizer! is soon below pa in the ladies' +cabin. In fact, the greater part of the pleasure-seekers are taken—at +full length. + +<p>Even young ladies from boarding-school, who are thinking of husbands, +declare loudly against maritime delight! while all the single young men +appear double. + +<p>The pier at last appears—and the cargo of drooping souls hail it with +delight, and with as grateful a reverence as if they were received by the +greatest peer of the realm! + +<p>They hurry from the boat as if 'twere Charon's, and they were about +stepping into the fields of Elysium! + +<p>A change comes o'er the spirit of their dream—their nerves are +braced; and so soon are mortal troubles obliterated from the mind, that +in a few days they are ready again to tempt the terrors of sea-sickness +in a voyage homewards—notwithstanding many of them, in their extremity, +had vowed that they never would return by water, if they outlived the +present infliction; considering, naturally enough, that it was "all up" +with them! + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Loud roared the dreadful thunder."—Bay of Biscay.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd17 Peter 1"></a><img alt="Odd17 Peter 1.jpg (74K)" src="images/Odd17%20Peter%201.jpg" height="912" width="645"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +THE good ship Firefly tossed and tumbled on the mountainous waves of the +stormy sea, like a cork in a gutter; and when she could not stem the +waves, politically tried a little tergiversation, and went stern +foremost! The boatswain piped all hands, and poor Peter Simple piped his +eye; for the cry of the whole crew was, that they were all going to Davy +Jones's locker. The waves struck her so repeatedly, that at last she +appeared as ungovernable as a scold in a rage; and as she found she could +not, by any means, strike the storm in the wind, and so silence it, she +gave vent to her fury by striking upon a rock! + +<p>It was a hard alternative truly; but what could she do? The long boat +was soon alongside, and was not long before it was filled with tars and +salt-water. Alas! she was speedily swamped, and the crew were compelled +to swim for their lives. Peter, however, could not swim, but the sea +gave him a lift in his dilemma, and washed him clean ashore, where he lay +for some time like a veritable lump of salt-Peter! When the storm had +abated he came to himself, and of course found himself in no agreeable +company! + +<p>Sticking his cocked-hat on his head, and grasping his dirk in his +hand, he tottered to a rock, when, seating himself, he philosophically +rocked to and fro. "Oh! vy vos I a midshipman," cried he, "to be wrecked +on this desolate island? I vish I vos at home at Bloomsbury! Oh! that I +had but to turn and embrace my kind, good, benevolent, and much respected +grandmother." As he uttered this pathetic plaint, he heard a chatter—of +which, at first considering that it proceeded from his own teeth, he took +no notice—but the sounds being repeated, he turned his head, and beheld +a huge baboon with a dog-face and flowing hair, grinning with admiration +at his cocked hat. + +<p>One look was sufficient! he leaped from his seat, and rushed wildly +forward, threading a wood in his way, and turning in and out—in +and out—with the sharpness and facility of a needle in the heel of a worsted +stocking—he never stayed his flight, 'till he fell plump into the centre +of a group of Indians, who received him with a yell!—loud enough to +split the drums of a whole drawing-room full of ears polite. + +<p>He would have fallen headlong with fear and exhaustion upon the turf, +had not a gentle female caught the slender youth in her arms, and +embraced him with all the energetic affection of a boa-constrictor. + +<p>Peter trembled like a little inoffensive mouse in the claws of a +tabby! + +<p>At the same time one of the Indians stepped forward, brandishing his +scalping knife. + +<p>He was the very prototype of an animated bronze Hercules; and, seizing +the poor middy's lank locks, with a peculiar twist, in his iron grasp— +Peter fainted! + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"O! what a lost mutton am I!"—Inkle and Yarico.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd18 Peter 2"></a><img alt="Odd18 Peter 2.jpg (89K)" src="images/Odd18%20Peter%202.jpg" height="960" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +MOST luckily for poor Peter was it, that he fell into the hands, or +rather the arms, of the Indian maid; for she not only preserved his crop, +but his life. When he recovered from his swoon, he found himself seated +beside his preserver, who, with one arm round his waist, was holding a +cocoa-nut, filled with a refreshing beverage, to his parched and pallid +lips. A large fire blazed in the middle of the wide space occupied by +the Indians, and he beheld the well-known coats and jackets of the brave +crew of the Firefly scattered on the greensward. + +<p>His heart palpitated-he thought at first that the villainous Indians +had stripped them, and left them to wander in a state of nature through +the tangled and briery woods. He was, however, soon—too soon—convinced +that the savages had dressed them! Yes, that merry crew—who had so +often roasted him—had been roasted by the Indians! + +<p>From this awful fate the lovely Ootanga had preserved him. She had +suddenly conceived a violent affection for the young white-face; and, +after a long harangue to the chief, her father, his consent was obtained, +and the nuptials were celebrated. + +<p>"I smell a rat," said Peter—"I'm booked; but better booked than +cooked, at any rate;" and forthwith returned thanks to the company for +the honour they had conferred upon him, in the fashion of an after-dinner +speech, accompanied with as much pantomime as he could manage. + +<p>A dance and a feast followed, of which Peter partook; but whether +rabbit, squirrel, or monkey, formed the basis of his wedding-supper, he +was not naturalist enough to determine. + +<p>Ootanga's affection, however, was sufficient to make amends for +anything; she was, in truth, a most killing beauty, for she brought him +tigers slain by her own hands, and made a couch for him of the skins. + +<p>She caught rattlesnakes for him, and spitch-cooked them for his +breakfast. In fact, there was nothing she left undone to convince him of +her unbounded love. + +<p>Peter's heart, however, was untouched by all this show of tenderness; +for the fact is, he had already given his heart to a white-face in his +own country. + +<p>The only consolation he had in his forlorn situation was to talk of +her continually; and, as Ootanga understood not a syllable of what he +uttered, she naturally applied all his tender effusions to herself, and +laughed and grinned, and showed her white teeth, as if she would devour +her little husband. + +<p>Seated on a tiger skin, with his lawful spouse beside him, arrayed in +shells, bows, feathers, and all the adornments of a savage bride, he +still sighed for home, and plaintively exclaimed:— + +<p>"Here I am, married to the only daughter of the great chief, who would +have roasted me with the rest of our crew, had I not given a joyful +consent. Oh! I wonder if I ever shall get home, and be married to Miss +Wiggins!!!" + +<p>The lovely wide-mouthed Ootanga patted him fondly on the chin, and +dreamed in her ignorance that he was paying her a compliment in his +native language. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>DOBBS'S "DUCK."</h2> +<br> +<h3>A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.</h3></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd19 Dobbs"></a><img alt="Odd19 Dobbs.jpg (61K)" src="images/Odd19%20Dobbs.jpg" height="983" width="643"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +IT may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderest +epithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairs +do not go particularly straight. + +<p>Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were +yoked by Hymen. D. was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of +high spirits—while his wife was one of the most cross-grained and +cantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with—and yet, to hear the +sweet diminutives which they both employed in their dialogues, the world +would have concluded that they were upon the best terms conceivable. + +<p>"My love," quoth Mrs. D., "I really now should like to take a boat and +row down the river as far as Battersea; the weather is so very fine, and +you know, my dear love, how fond I am of the water." + +<p>D. could have added (and indeed it was upon the very tip of his +tongue)—"mixed with spirits"—but he wisely restrained the impertinent +allusion. + +<p>"Well, my duck," said he, "you have only to name the day, you know, I +am always ready to please,"—and then, as was his habit, concluded his +gracious speech by singing— + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "'Tis woman vot seduces all mankind— +<br> Their mother's teach them the wheedling art." + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>"Hold your nonsense, do," replied Mrs. D____, scarcely able to +restrain her snappish humour, but, fearful of losing the jaunt, +politically added, "Suppose, love, we go to-day—no time like the +present, dear." + + <center><p>"Thine am I—thine am I," sang the indulgent husband.</center> + +<p>And Mrs. D____ hereupon ordered the boy to carry down to the stairs a +cargo of brandy, porter, and sandwiches, for the intended voyage, and +taking her dear love in the humour, presently appeared duly decked out +for the trip. + +<p>Two watermen and a wherry were soon obtained, and Dobbs, lighting his +cigar, alternately smoked and sang, while his duck employed herself most +agreeably upon the sandwiches. + +<p>The day was bright and sunny, and exceedingly hot; and they had +scarcely rowed as far as the Red-House, when Mrs. D____became rather +misty, from the imbibation of the copious draughts she had swallowed to +quench her thirst. + +<p>A lighter being a-head, the boatmen turned round, while Dobbs, casting +up his eyes to the blue heavens, was singing, in the hilarity of his +heart, "Hearts as warm as those above, lie under the waters cold," when +the boat heeled, and his duck, who unfortunately could not swim, slipped +gently over the gunwhale, and, unnoticed, sank to rise no more. + +<p>"Ah!" said Dobbs, when, some months afterwards, he was speaking of the +sad bereavement, "She was a wife! I shall never get such another, and, +what's more, I would not if I could." + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd20 Strawberries"></a><img alt="Odd20 Strawberries.jpg (79K)" src="images/Odd20%20Strawberries.jpg" height="887" width="648"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>Among all the extraordinary and fantastic dishes compounded for the +palate of Heliogabalus, the Prince of Epicures, that delicious admixture +of the animal and the vegetable—Strawberries and Cream—is never +mentioned in the pages of the veracious chronicler of his gastronomic +feats! + +<p>Yes! 'tis a lamentable truth, this smooth, oleaginous, and delicately +odorous employment for the silver spoon, was unknown. Should the +knowledge of his loss reach him in the fields of Elysium, will not his +steps be incontinently turned towards the borders of the Styx—his +plaintive voice hail the grim ferryman, while in his most persuasive +tones he cries— + + <center><p>"Row me back—row me back,"</center> + +<p>that he may enjoy, for a brief space, this untasted pleasure? Ye +gods! in our mind's eye we behold the heartless and unfeeling Charon +refuse his earnest prayer, and see his languid spirit—diluted by +disappointment to insipidity—wandering over the enamelled meads, as flat +and shallow as an overflow in the dank fens of Lincoln. + +<p>His imagination gloats upon the fragrant invention, and he gulps at +the cheating shadow until Elysium becomes a perfect Hades to his tortured +spirit. + +<p>Mellow, rich, and toothsome compound! Toothsome did we say? Nay, +even those who have lost their 'molares, incisores,' canine teeth, +'dentes sapientiae,' and all can masticate and inwardly digest thee! + +<p>Racy and recherche relish! + +<p>Thou art— +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + +<br>As delicate as first love— +<br>As white and red as a maiden's cheek— +<br>As palateable as well-timed flattery— +<br>As light and filling as the gas of a balloon— +<br>As smooth as a courtier— +<br>As odorous as the flowers of Jasmin— +<br>As soft as flos silk— +<br>As encouraging, without being so illusory, as Hope— +<br>As tempting as green herbage to lean kine— +<br>—————— a Chancery suit to the Bill of a cormorant-lawyer— +<br>—————— a pump to a thirsty paviour— +<br>—————— a sun-flower to a bee— +<br>—————— a ripe melon to a fruit-knife— +<br>—————— a rose to a nightingale—or +<br>—————— a pot of treacle to a blue-bottle— +<br>As beautiful to the eye as a page of virgin-vellum richly illuminated +<br>And +<br>As satisfactory as a fat legacy! + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>Talk of nectar! if Jupiter should really wish to give a bonne-bouche +to Juno, Leda, or Venus, or any one of his thousand and one flames, let +him skim the milky-way—transform the instrumental part of the music of +the spheres into 'hautboys,' and compound the only dish worth the roseate +lips of the gentle dames 'in nubibus,' and depend on it, the cups of +Ganymede and Hebe will be rejected for a bowl of—Strawberries and Cream. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A DAY'S PLEASURE.—No. I.</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>THE JOURNEY OUT.</h3></center> +<br><br> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"It's werry hot, but werry pleasant."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd21 Pleasure 1"></a><img alt="Odd21 Pleasure 1.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd21%20Pleasure%201.jpg" height="971" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>SAYS Mrs. Sibson to her spouse +<br>"The days is hot and fair; +<br>I think 'twould do the children good +<br>To get a little hair! +<br> +<br>"For ve've been moping here at home +<br>And nothin' seen o' life; +<br>Vhile neighbor Jones he takes his jaunts +<br>O' Sundays vith his vife!" +<br> +<br>"Vell! vell! my dear," quoth Mr. S____ +<br>"Let's hear vot you purpose; +<br>I'm al'ays ready to comply, +<br>As you, my love, vell knows. +<br> +<br>"I'll make no bones about the cost; +<br>You knows I never stick +<br>About a trifle to amuse, +<br>So, dearest Pol, be quick." +<br> +<br>"Vhy, this is it:—I think ve might +<br>To Hornsey have a day; +<br>Maria, Peg, and Sal, and Bet +<br>Ve'd pack into a 'chay.' +<br> +<br>"Our Jim and Harry both could valk, +<br>(God bless their little feet!) +<br>The babby in my arms I'd take— +<br>I'm sure 'twould be a treat;" +<br> +<br>Quoth he: "I am unanimous!" +<br>And so the day was fix'd; +<br>And forth they started in good trim, +<br>Tho' not with toil umnix'd. +<br> +<br>Across his shoulders Sibson bore +<br>A basket with the "grub," +<br>And to the "chay" perform'd the "horse," +<br>Lest Mrs. S____ should snub. +<br> +<br>Apollo smiled!—that is, the sun +<br>Blazed in a cloudless sky, +<br>And Sibson soon was in a "broil" +<br>By dragging of his "fry." +<br> +<br>Says S____, "My love, I'm dry as dust!" +<br>When she replied, quite gay, +<br>"Then, drink; for see I've bottled up +<br>My spirits for the day." +<br> +<br>And from the basket drew a flask, +<br>And eke a footless glass; +<br>He quaff'd the drink, and cried, "Now, dear, +<br>I'm strong as ____" let that pass! +<br> +<br>At last they reach'd the destined spot +<br>And prop and babes unpacked; +<br>They ran about, and stuff'd, and cramm'd, +<br>And really nothing lack'd. +<br> +<br>And Sibson, as he "blew a cloud," +<br>Declared, "It vos a day!" +<br>And vow'd that he would come again— +<br>Then call'd for "Vot's to pay?" + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A DAY'S PLEASURE.—No. II.</h2></center> +<br> +<center><h3>THE JOURNEY HOME.</h3></center> +<br><br> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Vot a soaking ve shall get."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd22 Pleasure 2"></a><img alt="Odd22 Pleasure 2.jpg (105K)" src="images/Odd22%20Pleasure%202.jpg" height="937" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>ACROSS the fields they homeward trudged, when, lo! a heavy rain +<br>Came pouring from the sky; +<br>Poor Sibson haul'd, the children squall'd; alas! it was too plain +<br>They would not reach home dry. +<br> +<br>With clay-clogg'd wheels, and muddy heels, and Jim upon his back, +<br>He grumbled on his way; +<br>"Vell, blow my vig! this is a rig!" cried Sibson, "Vell! alack! +<br>I shan't forget this day! +<br> +<br>"My shoes is sop, my head's a mop; I'm vet as any think; +<br>Oh! shan't ve cotch a cold!" +<br>"Your tongue is glib enough!" his rib exclaim'd, and made him shrink, +<br>—For she was such a scold— +<br> +<br>And in her eye he could descry a spark that well he knew +<br>Into a flame would rise; +<br>So he was dumb, silent and glum, as the small "chay" he drew, +<br>And ventured no replies. +<br> +<br>Slip, slop, and slush! past hedge and bush, the dripping mortals go +<br>(Tho' 'twas "no go" S____ thought); +<br>"If this 'ere's fun, vy I for vuu," cried he, with face of woe, +<br>"Von't soon again be caught. +<br> +<br>"Vet to the skin, thro' thick and thin, to trapes ain't to my mind; +<br>So the next holiday +<br>I vill not roam, but stick at home, for there at least I'll find +<br>The means to soak my clay. +<br> +<br>"Tis quite a fag, this 'chay' to drag—the babbies too is cross, +<br>And Mrs. S____ is riled. +<br>'Tis quite a bore; the task is more—more fitt'rer for an horse; +<br>And vith the heat I'm briled! +<br> +<br>"No, jaunts adoo! I'll none o' you!"—and soon they reach'd their home, +<br>Wet through and discontent— +<br>"Sure sich a day, I needs must say," exclaim'd his loving spouse, +<br>"Afore I never spent!" + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>HAMMERING</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Beside a meandering stream +<br>There sat an old gentleman fat; +<br>On the top of his head was his wig, +<br>On the top of his wig was his hat."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd23 Hammering"></a><img alt="Odd23 Hammering.jpg (87K)" src="images/Odd23%20Hammering.jpg" height="995" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +I ONCE followed a venerable gentleman along the banks of a mill-stream, +armed at all points with piscatorial paraphernalia, looking out for some +appropriate spot, with all the coolness of a Spanish inquisitor, +displaying his various instruments of refined torture. He at last +perched himself near the troubled waters, close to the huge revolving +wheel, and threw in his float, which danced upon the mimic waves, and +bobbed up and down, as if preparing for a reel. Patiently he sat; as +motionless and unfeeling as a block. I placed myself under cover of an +adjoining hedge, and watched him for the space of half an hour; but he +pulled up nothing but his baited hook;—what his bait was, I know not; +but I suppose, from the vicinity, he was fishing for a "miller's thumb." +Presently, two mealy-mouthed men, from the mill, made their appearance, +cautiously creeping behind him. + +<p>I drew myself up in the shadow of the luxuriant quickset to observe +their notions. + +<p>A paling in the rear offered the rogues an effectual concealment in +case the angler should turn. + +<p>Close to his seat ran some wood-work, upon which they quietly drew the +broad tails of his coat, and driving in a couple of tenpenny nails, left +the unconscious old gentleman a perfect fixture; to be taken at a +valuation, I suppose, part of his personal property being already +"brought to the hammer!" the clattering clamour of the wheel precluding +him from hearing the careful, but no less effectual taps. I certainly +enjoyed the trick, and longed to see the ridiculous issue; but he was so +intent upon his sport—so fixed that he did not discover the nature of +his real attachment while I remained. + +<p>Doubtless if he were of a quick and sudden temperament, a snatch of +his humour rent his broad cloth, and he returned home with a woful tail, +and slept not—for his nap was irreparably destroyed! + +<p>I hate all twaddle; but when I see an old fool, with rod and line, + + <center><p>"Sitting like patience on a monument,"</center> + +<p> +and selling the remnant of his life below cost price in the pursuit of +angling,—that "art of ingeniously tormenting,"—a feeling, + + <center><p>"More in sorrow than in anger,"</center> + +<p>is excited at his profitless inhumanity. + +<p>Vainly do all the disciples of honest Izaak Walton discourse, in +eulogistic strains, of the pleasure of the sport. I can imagine neither +pleasure nor sport derivable from the infliction of pain upon the meanest +thing endowed with life. + +<p>This may be deemed Brahminical, but I doubt that man's humanity who +can indulge in the cruel recreation and murder while he smiles. + +<p>"What, heretical sentiments," exclaims some brother of the angle, +(now I am an angle, but no angler.) "This fellow hath never trudged at +early dawn along the verdant banks of the 'sedgy lea,' and drunk in the +dewy freshness of the morning air. His lines have never fallen in +pleasant places. He has never performed a pilgrimage to Waltham Cross. +He is, in truth, one of those vulgar minds who take more delight in the +simple than the—gentle!—and every line of his deserves a rod!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>PRACTICE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Sweet is the breath of morn when she ascends +<br>With charm of earliest birds."—-MILTON.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd24 Practice"></a><img alt="Odd24 Practice.jpg (74K)" src="images/Odd24%20Practice.jpg" height="999" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"WELL, this is a morning!" emphatically exclaimed a stripling, with a +mouth and eyes formed by Nature of that peculiar width and power of +distension, so admirably calculated for the expression of stupid wonder +or surprise; while his companion, elevating his nasal organ and +projecting his chin, sniffed the fresh morning breeze, as they trudged +through the dewy meadows, and declared that it was exactly for all the +world similar-like to reading Thomson's Seasons! In which apt and +appropriate simile the other concurred. + +<p>"Tom's a good fellow to lend us his gun," continued he—"I only hope +it ain't given to tricking, that's all. I say, Sugarlips, keep your +powder dry." + +<p>"Leave me alone for that," replied Sugarlips; "I know a thing or two, +although this is the first time that ever I have been out. What a +scuffling the birds do make"—added he, peeping into the cage which they +had, as a precautionary measure, stocked with sparrows, in order that +they might not be disappointed in their sport—"How they long to be on +the wing!" + +<p>"I'll wing 'em, presently!" cried his comrade, with a vaunting air— +"and look if here ain't the very identical spot for a display of my skill. +Pick out one of the best and biggest, and tie up a-top of yonder stile, +and you shall soon have a specimen of my execution." Sugarlips quickly +did his bidding. + +<p>"Now—come forward and stand back! What do ye think o' that, ey?" +said the sportsman—levelling his gun, throwing back his head, closing +his sinister ocular, and stretching out his legs after the manner of the +Colossus of Rhodes—"Don't you admire my style?" + +<p>"Excellent!" said Sugarlips—"But I think I could hit it." + +<p>"What?" + +<p>"Why, the stile to be sure." + +<p>"Keep quiet, can't you—Now for it—" and, trembling with eagerness, +his hand pulled the trigger, but no report followed. "The deuce is in +the gun," cried he, lowering it, and examining the lock; "What can ail +it?" + +<p>"Why, I'll be shot if that ain't prime," exclaimed Sugarlips, laughing +outright. + +<p>"What do you mean?" + +<p>"I've only forgot the priming—that's all." + +<p>"There's a pretty fellow, you are, for a sportsman." + +<p>"Well, it's no matter as it happens; for, though 'Time and tide wait +for no man,' a sparrow tied must, you know. There! that will do." + +<p>"Sure you put the shot in now?" + +<p>"If you put the shot into Dicky as surely, he'll never peck groundsel +again, depend on it." + +<p>Again the "murderous tube" was levelled; Sugarlips backed against an +adjoining wall, with a nervous adhesiveness that evidently proved him +less fearful of a little mortar than a great gun! + +<p>"That's right; out of the way, Sugarlips; I am sure I shall hit him +this time." And no sooner had he uttered this self-congratulatory +assurance (alas! not life-assurance!) than a report (most injurious to +the innocent cock-sparrow) was heard in the neighbourhood! + +<p>"Murder!—mur-der!" roared a stentorian voice, which made the +criniferous coverings of their craniums stand on end + + <center><p>"Like quills upon the fretful porcupine."</center> + +<p>In an instant the sportsman let fall his gun, and Sugarlips ran +affrighted towards the stile. He found it really "vox et preterea +nihil;" for a few feathers of the bird alone were visible: he had been +blown to nothing; and, peeping cautiously round the angle of the wall, he +beheld a portly gentleman in black running along with the unwieldy gait +of a chased elephant. + +<p>"Old Flank'em, of the Finishing Academy, by jingo!" exclaimed +Sugarlips. "It's a mercy we didn't finish him! Why, he must actually +have been on the point of turning the corner. I think we had better be +off; for, if the old dominie catches us, he will certainly liberate our +sparrows, and—put us in the cage!" + +<p>But, where's the spoil?" + +<p>"Spoil, indeed!" cried Sugarlips; "you've spoiled him nicely. I've an +idea, Tom, you were too near, as the spendthrift nephew said of his +miserly uncle. If you can't get an aim at a greater distance, you'd +never get a name as a long shot—that's my mind." + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>PRECEPT.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd25 Precept"></a><img alt="Odd25 Precept.jpg (82K)" src="images/Odd25%20Precept.jpg" height="974" width="654"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>Uncle Samson was a six-bottle man. His capacity was certainly great, +whatever might be said of his intellect; for I have seen him rise without +the least appearance of elevation, after having swallowed the customary +half dozen. He laughed to scorn all modern potations of wishy-washy +French and Rhine wines—deeming them unfit for the palate of a true-born +Englishman. Port, Sherry, and Madeira were his only tipple—the rest, he +would assert, were only fit for finger-glasses! + +<p>—He was of a bulky figure, indeed a perfect Magnum among men, with a +very apoplectic brevity of neck, and a logwood complexion,—and though a +staunch Church-of-England-man, he might have been mistaken, from his +predilection for the Port, to be a true Mussulman. To hear him discourse +upon the age of his wines—the 'pinhole,' the 'crust,' the 'bees'-wing,' +etc., was perfectly edifying—and every man who could not imbibe the +prescribed quantum, became his butt. To temperance and tea-total +societies he attributed the rapid growth of radicalism and dissent. + +<p>"Water," he would say, with a sort of hydrophobic shudder, "is only a +fit beverage for asses!"—"To say a man could drink like a fish, was once +the greatest encomium that a bon-vivant could bestow upon a brother +Bacchanalian—but, alas! in this matter-of-fact and degenerate age, men +do so literally—washing their gills with unadulterated water!—Dropsy +and water on the chest must be the infallible result! If such an order +of things continue, all the puppies in the kingdom, who would perhaps +have become jolly dogs in their time, will be drowned! Yes, they'll +inevitably founder, like a water-logged vessel, in sight of port. These +water-drinkers will not have a long reign. They would feign persuade us +that 'Truth lies at the bottom of a well,'—lies, indeed! I tell you +Horace knew better, and that his assertion of 'There is truth in wine,' +was founded on experience—his draughts had no water-mark in 'em, depend +on it." + +<p>He was a great buyer of choice "Pieces," and his cellar contained one +of the best stocks in the kingdom, both in the wood and bottle. Poor +Uncle!—he has now been some years "in the wood" himself, and snugly +stowed in the family vault! + +<p>Having been attacked with a severe cold, he was compelled to call in +the Doctor, who sent him a sudorific in three Lilliputian bottles; but +although he received the advice of his medical friend, he followed +Shakspeare's, + + + <center><p>"Throw physic to the dogs,"</center> + + +<p>and prescribed for himself a bowl of wine-whey as a febrifuge. His +housekeeper remonstrated, but he would have his 'whey,' and he died! +leaving a handsome fortune, and two good-looking nephews to follow him to +the grave. + +<p>Myself and Cousin (the two nephews aforesaid) were vast favourites +with the old gentleman, and strenuously did he endeavour to initiate us +in the art of drinking, recounting the feats of his youth, and his +drinking-bouts with my father, adding, with a smile, "But you'll never be +a par with, your Uncle, Ned, till you can carry the six bottles under +your waistcoat." + +<p>My head was certainly stronger than my Cousin's; he went as far as the +third bottle—the next drop was on the floor! Now I did once manage the +fourth bottle—but then—I must confess I was obliged to give it up! + +<p>"Young men," would my Uncle say, "should practice 'sans intermission,' +until they can drink four bottles without being flustered, then they will +be sober people; for it won't be easy to make them tipsy—a drunken man I +abominate!" + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>EXAMPLE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"You see I make no splash!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd26 Example"></a><img alt="Odd26 Example.jpg (91K)" src="images/Odd26%20Example.jpg" height="979" width="648"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +THERE are some individuals so inflated with self-sufficiency, and +entertain such an overweaning opinion of their skill in all matters, that +they must needs have a finger in every pie. + +<p>Perhaps a finer specimen than old V____, of this genius of egotistic, +meddling mortals, never existed. He was a man well-to-do in the world, +and possessed not only a large fortune, but a large family. + +<p>He had an idea that no man was better qualified to bring up his +children in the way they should go; and eternally plagued the obsequious +tutors of his sons with his novel mode of instilling the rudiments of the +Latin tongue, although he knew not a word of the language; and the +obedient mistresses of his daughters with his short road to attaining a +perfection in playing the piano-forte, without knowing a note of the +gamut: but what could they say; why, nothing more or less than they were +'astonished;' which was vague enough to be as true as it was flattering. + +<p>And then he was so universally clever, that he even interfered in the +culinary department of his household, instructing the red-elbowed, +greasy, grinning Cook, in the sublime art of drawing, stuffing, and +roasting a goose, for which she certainly did not fail to roast the goose +(her master) when she escaped to the regions below. + +<p>Even his medical attendant was compelled to acknowledge the efficacy +of his domestic prescriptions of water-gruel and honey in catarrhs, and +roasted onions in ear-aches, and sundry other simple appliances; and, in +fine, found himself, on most occasions, rather a 'consulting surgeon,' +than an apothecary, for he was compelled to yield to the man who had +studied Buchan's and Graham's Domestic Medicine. And the only +consolation he derived from his yielding affability, were the long bills +occasioned by the mistakes of this domestic quack, who was continually +running into errors, which required all his skill to repair. Nay, his +wife's mantua-maker did not escape his tormenting and impertinent advice; +for he pretended to a profound knowledge in all the modes, from the time +of Elizabeth to Victoria, and deemed his judgment in frills, flounces, +and corsages, as undeniable and infallible. + +<p>Of course the sempstress flattered his taste; for his wife, poor soul! +she soon had tact enough to discover, had no voice in the business. + +<p>His eldest son, George, had a notion that he could angle. Old V____ +immediately read himself up in Walton, and soon convinced—himself, that +he was perfect in that line, and quite capable of teaching the whole art +and mystery. + +<p>"See, George," said he, when they had arrived at a convenient spot for +their first attempt, "this is the way to handle your tackle; drop it +gently into the water,—so!" and, twirling the line aloft, he hooked the +branches of an overhanging tree!—sagaciously adding, "You see I make no +splash! and hold your rod in this manner!" + +<p>George was too much afraid of his imperious father, to point out his +error, and old V____ consequently stood in the broiling sun for a full +quarter of an hour, before he discovered that he had caught a birch +instead of a perch! + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd27 Musical"></a><img alt="Odd27 Musical.jpg (61K)" src="images/Odd27%20Musical.jpg" height="951" width="577"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +Matter-of-fact people read the story of Orpheus, and imagine that his +"charming rocks" and "soothing savage beasts," is a mere fabulous +invention. No such thing: it is undoubtedly founded on fact. Nay, we +could quote a thousand modern instances of the power of music quite as +astonishing. + +<p>One most true and extraordinary occurrence will suffice to establish +the truth of our proposition beyond a doubt. Molly Scraggs was a cook in +a first-rate family, in the most aristocratic quarter of the metropolis. + +<p>The master and mistress were abroad, and Molly had nothing to do but +to indulge her thoughts; and, buried as she was in the pleasant gloom and +quiet of an underground kitchen, nothing could possibly be more +favourable to their developement. She was moreover exceedingly plump, +tender, and sentimental, and had had a lover, who had proved false to his +vows. + +<p>In this eligible situation and temper for receiving soft impressions, +she sat negligently rocking herself in her chair, and polishing the lid +of a copper saucepan! when the sweet, mellifluous strains of an itinerant +band struck gently upon the drum of her ear. "Wapping Old Stairs" was +distinctly recognized, and she mentally repeated the words so applicable +to her bereaved situation. + +<p>"Your Molly has never proved false she declares," 'till the tears +literally gushed from her "blue, blue orbs," and trickled down her plump +and ruddy cheeks; but scarcely had she plunged into the very depths of +the pathos induced by the moving air, which threatened to throw her into +a gentle swoon, or kicking hysterics, when her spirit was aroused by the +sudden change of the melancholy ditty, to the rampant and lively tune, +with the popular burden of, "Turn about and wheel about, and jump Jim +Crow!" + +<p>This certainly excited her feelings; but, strange to say, it made her +leap from her chair, exasperated, as it were, by the sudden revulsion, +and rush into the area. + +<p>"Don't, for goodness sake, play that horrid 'chune,'" said Molly, +emphatically addressing the minstrels. + +<p>The 'fiddle' immediately put his instrument under his arm, and, +touching the brim of his napless hat, scraped a sort of bow, and +smilingly asked the cook to name any other tune she preferred. + +<p>"Play us," said she, "'Oh! no, we never mention her,' or summat o' +that sort; I hate jigs and dances mortally." + +<p>"Yes, marm," replied the 'fiddle,' obsequiously; and, whispering the +'harp' and 'bass,' they played the air to her heart's content. + +<p>In fact, if one might guess by the agility with which she ran into the +kitchen, she was quite melted; and, returning with the remnants of a +gooseberry pie and the best part of a shoulder of mutton, she handed them +to the musicians. + +<p>"Thanky'e, marm, I'm sure," said the 'bass,' sticking his teeth into +the pie-crust. + +<p>"The mutton 's rayther fat, but it 's sweet, at any rate!" + +<p>"Yes, marm," said the 'fiddle;' "it's too fat for your stomach, I'm +sure, marm;" and consigned it to his green-baize fiddle-case. + +<p>"Now," said Molly,—"play us, 'Drink to me only,' and I'll draw you a +mug o' table-ale." + +<p>"You're vastly kind," said the 'fiddle;' "it's a pleasure to play +anythink for you, marm, you've sich taste;" and then turning to his +comrades, he added, with a smile—"By goles! if she ain't the woppingest +cretur as ever I set eyes on—" + +<p>The tune required was played, and the promised ale discussed. The +'bass,' with a feeling of gratitude, voted that they should give a +parting air unsolicited. + +<p>"Vot shall it be?" demanded the 'harp.' + +<p>"Vy, considering of her size," replied the 'fiddle,' "I thinks as +nothink couldn't be more appropriate than: + + + <center><p>'Farewell to the mountain !'"</center> + + +<p>and, striking up, they played the proposed song, marching on well +pleased with the unexpected appreciation of their musical talent by the +kind, and munificent Molly Scraggs! + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE EATING HOUSE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd28 Eating House"></a><img alt="Odd28 Eating House.jpg (78K)" src="images/Odd28%20Eating%20House.jpg" height="951" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +FROM twelve o'clock until four, the eating houses of the City are crammed +with hungry clerks. + +<p>Bills of fare have not yet been introduced,—the more's the pity; but, +in lieu thereof, you are no sooner seated in one of the snug inviting +little settles, with a table laid for four or six, spread with a snowy +cloth, still bearing the fresh quadrangular marks impressed by the +mangle, and rather damp, than the dapper, ubiquitous waiter, napkin in +hand, stands before you, and rapidly runs over a detailed account of the +tempting viands all smoking hot, and ready to be served up. + +<p>"Beef, boiled and roast; veal and ham; line of pork, roast; leg +boiled, with pease pudding; cutlets, chops and steaks, greens, taters, +and pease," etc. etc. + +<p>Some are fastidious, and hesitate; the waiter, whose eyes are 'all +about him,' leaves you to meditate and decide, while he hastens to inform +a new arrival, and mechanically repeats his catalogue of dainties; and, +bawling out at the top of his voice, "One roast beaf and one taters," you +echo his words, and he straightway reports your wishes in the same voice +and manner to the invisible purveyors below, and ten to one but you get a +piece of boiled fat to eke out your roast meat. + +<p>In some houses, new and stale bread, at discretion, are provided; and +many a stripling, lean and hungry as a greyhound, with a large appetite +and a small purse, calls for a small plate, without vegetables, and fills +up the craving crannies with an immoderate proportion of the staff of +life, while the reckoning simply stands, "one small plate 6d., one bread +1d., one waiter 1d.;" and at this economical price satisfies the demands +of his young appetite. + +<p>But still, cheap as this appears, he pays it the aggregate, for there +are frequently 500 or 600 diners daily at these Establishments; and the +waiter, who generally purchases his place, and provides glass, cloths, +etc. not only makes a 'good thing of it,' but frequently accumulates +sufficient to set up on his own account, in which case, he is almost sure +of being followed by the regular customers. + +<p>For he is universally so obliging, and possesses such a memory, and an +aptness in discovering the various tastes of his visitors, that he seldom +fails in making most of the every-day feeders his fast friends. + +<p>"Tom, bring me a small plate of boiled beef and potatoes," cries one +of his regulars. Placing his hand upon the table-cloth; and knocking off +the crumbs with his napkin, he bends to the gentleman, and in a small. +confidential voice informs him, + +<p>"The beef won't do for you, Sir,—it's too low, it's bin in cut a +hour. Fine ribs o' lamb, jist up." + +<p>"That will do, Tom," says the gratified customer. + +<p>"Grass or spinach, Sir? fine 'grass,'—first this season." + +<p>"Bring it, and quick, Tom," replies the gentleman, pleased with the +assiduous care he takes in not permitting him to have an indifferent cut +of a half cold joint. + +<p>The most extraordinary part of the business is, the ready manner in +which he 'casts up' all you have eaten, takes the reckoning, and then is +off again in a twinkling. + +<p>A stranger, and one unaccustomed to feed in public, is recognised in a +moment by his uneasy movements. He generally slinks into the nearest +vacant seat, and is evidently taken aback by the apparently abrupt and +rapid annunciation of the voluble and active waiter, and, in the hurry +and confusion, very frequently decides upon the dish least pleasant to +his palate. + +<p>A respectable gentleman of the old school, of a mild and reverend +appearance, and a lean and hungry figure, once dropped into a settle +where we were discussing a rump steak and a shallot, tender as an infant, +and fragrant as a flower garden! Tom pounced upon him in a moment, and +uttered the mystic roll. The worthy senior was evidently confused and +startled, but necessity so far overcame his diffidence that he softly +said, + + <center><p>"A small portion of veal and ham, well done."</center> + +<p>Tom, whirled round, continuing the application of his eternal napkin +to a tumbler which he was polishing, bawled out in a stentorian voice, + + <center><p>"Plate o' weal, an' dam well done!"</center> + + +<p>We shall never sponge from the slate of our memory the utter +astonishment expressed in the bland countenance of the startled old +gentleman at this peculiar echo of his wishes. + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>SCENE X.(b)</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"This is a werry lonely spot, Sir; I wonder you ar'n't afeard of being +robbed."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Scene10b Lonely Spot"></a><img alt="Scene10b Lonely Spot.jpg (87K)" src="images/Scene10b%20Lonely%20Spot.jpg" height="977" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>JOB Timmins was a tailor bold, +<br>And well he knew his trade, +<br>And though he was no fighting man +<br>Had often dress'd a blade! +<br> +<br>Quoth he, one day—"I have not had +<br>A holiday for years, +<br>So I'm resolv'd to go and fish, +<br>And cut for once the shears." +<br> +<br>So donning quick his Sunday's suit, +<br>He took both rod and line, +<br>And bait for fish—and prog for one, +<br>And eke a flask of wine. +<br> +<br>For he was one who loved to live, +<br>And said—"Where'er I roam +<br>I like to feed—and though abroad, +<br>To make myself at home." +<br> +<br>Beneath a shady grove of trees +<br>He sat him down to fish, +<br>And having got a cover, he +<br>Long'd much to get a dish. +<br> +<br>He cast his line, and watch'd his float, +<br>Slow gliding down the tide; +<br>He saw it sink! he drew it up, +<br>And lo! a fish he spied. +<br> +<br>He took the struggling gudgeon off, +<br>And cried—"I likes his looks, +<br>I wish he'd live—but fishes die +<br>Soon as they're—off the hooks!" +<br> +<br>At last a dozen more he drew— +<br>(Fine-drawing 'twas to him!) +<br>But day past by—and twilight came, +<br>All objects soon grew dim. +<br> +<br>"One more!" he cried, "and then I'll pack, +<br>And homeward trot to sup,"— +<br>But as he spoke, he heard a tread, +<br>Which caused him to look up. +<br> +<br>Poor Timmins trembled as he gazed +<br>Upon the stranger's face; +<br>For cut purse! robber! all too plain, +<br>His eye could therein trace. +<br> +<br>"Them's werry handsome boots o' yourn," +<br>The ruffian smiling cried, +<br>"Jist draw your trotters out—my pal— +<br>And we'll swop tiles, besides." +<br> +<br>"That coat too, is a pretty fit— +<br>Don't tremble so—for I +<br>Von't rob you of a single fish, +<br>I've other fish to fry." +<br> +<br>Poor Timmins was obliged to yield +<br>Hat, coat, and boots—in short +<br>He was completely stripp'd—and paid +<br>Most dearly for his "sport." +<br> +<br>And as he homeward went, he sigh'd— +<br>"Farewell to stream and brook; +<br>O! yes, they'll catch me there again +<br>A fishing—with a hook!" + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>GONE!</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd29 Gone"></a><img alt="Odd29 Gone.jpg (77K)" src="images/Odd29%20Gone.jpg" height="1111" width="643"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + +<br>ALONG the banks, at early dawn, +<br>Trudged Nobbs and Nobbs's son, +<br>With rod and line, resolved that day +<br>Great fishes should be won. +<br> +<br>At last they came unto a bridge, +<br>Cried Nobbs, "Oh! this is fine!" +<br>And feeling sure 'twould answer well, +<br>He dropp'd the stream a line. +<br> +<br>"We cannot find a fitter place, +<br>If twenty miles we march; +<br>Its very look has fix'd my choice, +<br>So knowing and—so arch!" +<br> +<br>He baited and he cast his line, +<br>When soon, to his delight, +<br>He saw his float bob up and down, +<br>And lo! he had a bite! +<br> +<br>"A gudgeon, Tom, I think it is!" +<br>Cried Nobbs, "Here, take the prize; +<br>It weighs a pound—in its own scales, +<br>I'm quite sure by its size." +<br> +<br>He cast again his baited hook, +<br>And drew another up! +<br>And cried, "We are in luck to-day, +<br>How glorious we shall sup!" +<br> +<br>All in the basket Tommy stow'd +<br>The piscatory spoil; +<br>Says Nobbs, "We've netted two at least, +<br>Albeit we've no toil." +<br> +<br>Amazed at his own luck, he threw +<br>The tempting bait again, +<br>And presently a nibble had— +<br>A bite! he pull'd amain! +<br> +<br>His rod beneath the fish's weight +<br>Now bent just like a bow, +<br>"What's this?" cried Nobbs; his son replied, +<br>"A salmon, 'tis, I know." +<br> +<br>And sure enough a monstrous perch, +<br>Of six or seven pounds, +<br>He from the water drew, whose bulk +<br>Both dad and son confounds. +<br> +<br>"O! Gemini!" he said, when he +<br>"O! Pisces!" should have cried; +<br>And tremblingly the wriggling fish +<br>Haul'd to the bridge's side. +<br> +<br>When, lo! just as he stretched his hand +<br>To grasp the perch's fin, +<br>The slender line was snapp'd in twain, +<br>The perch went tumbling in! +<br> +<br> "Gone! gone! by gosh!" scream'd Nobbs, while Tom +<br>Too eager forward bent, +<br>And, with a kick, their basket quick +<br>Into the river sent. + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Odd30 Joker 1"></a><img alt="Odd30 Joker 1.jpg (91K)" src="images/Odd30%20Joker%201.jpg" height="990" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>Those wags who are so fond of playing off their jokes upon others, +require great skill and foresight to prevent the laugh being turned +against themselves. + +<p>Jim Smith was an inveterate joker, and his jokes were, for the most +part, of the practical kind. He had a valuable tortoiseshell cat, whose +beauty was not only the theme of praise with all the old maids in the +neighbourhood, but her charms attracted the notice of numerous feline +gentlemen dwelling in the vicinity, who were, nocturnally, wont to pay +their devoirs by that species of serenades, known under the cacophonous +name of caterwauling. + +<p>One very ugly Tom, (who, it was whispered abroad, was a +great-grandfather, and scandalously notorious for gallantries unbecoming a cat +of his age) was particularly obnoxious to our hero; and, in an unlucky +moment, he resolved to 'pickle him,' as he facetiously termed it. Now +his process of pickling consisted in mixing a portion of prussic acid in +milk. Taking the precaution to call in his own pet and favorite, he +placed the potion in the accustomed path of her long-whiskered suitor. +Tom finding the coast clear slipped his furry body over the wall, and +dropped gently as a lady's glove into the garden, and slily smelling the +flower-borders, as if he were merely amusing himself in the elegant study +of botany, stealthily approached the house, and uttering a low plaintive +'miau,' to attract the attention of his dear Minx, patiently awaited the +appearance of his true-love. + +<p>Minx heard the voice she loved so well, and hurried to meet her +ancient beau. A slight noise, however, alarmed his timidity, and he +scaled the wall in a twinkling. + +<p>Presently the screams of the maid assured him that 'something had +taken place;' and when he heard the words, "Oh! the cat! the cat!" he +felt quite certain that the potion had taken effect. He walked +deliberately down stairs, and behold! there lay Miss Minx, his own +favorite, struggling in the agonies of death, on the parlor rug. The +fact is, he had shut the doors, but forgotten that the window was open, +and the consequence was, the loss of poor Minx, who had drunk deep of the +malignant poison designed for her gallant. + +<p>This was only one of a thousand tricks that had miscarried. + +<p>Having one day ascertained that his acquaintance, Tom Wilkins, was +gone out 'a-shooting,' he determined to way-lay him on his return. + +<p>It was a beautiful moonlight night in the latter end of October. +Disguising himself in a demoniac mask, a pair of huge wings, and a forked +tail, he seated himself on a stile in the sportsman's path. + +<p>Anon he espied the weary and unconscious Tom approaching, lost in the +profundity of thought, and though not in love, ruminating on every miss +he had made in that day's bootless trudge. + +<p>He almost, touched the stile before his affrighted gaze encountered +this 'goblin damned.' + +<p>His short crop bristled up, assuming the stiffness of a penetrating +hair brush. + +<p>For an instant his whole frame appeared petrified, and the tide and +current of his life frozen up in thick-ribbed ice. + +<p>Jim Smith, meanwhile, holding out a white packet at arm's length, +exclaimed in a sepulchral tone, + +<p>"D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Odd31 Joker 2"></a><img alt="Odd31 Joker 2.jpg (80K)" +src="images/Odd31%20Joker%202.jpg" height="876" width="645"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +AWFULLY ponderous as the words struck upon the tightened drum of Tom's +auriculars, they still tended to arouse his fainting spirit. + +<p>"Mer-mer-mercy on us!" ejaculated he, and shrank back a pace or two, +still keeping his dilating optics fixed upon the horrible spectre. + +<p>"D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" repeated Jim Smith. + +<p>"Mur-mur-der!" screamed Tom; and, mechanically raising his gun for +action of some kind appeared absolutely necessary to keep life within +him, he aimed at the Tempter, trembling in every joint. + +<p>Jim, who had as usual never calculated upon such a turning of the +tables, threw off his head—his assumed one, of course, and, leaping from +the stile, cried aloud— + +<p>"Oh! Tom, don't shoot—don't shoot!—it's only me—Jim Smith!" + +<p>Down dropped the gun from the sportsman's grasp. + +<p>"Oh! you fool! you—you—considerable fool!" cried he, supporting +himself on a neighbouring hawthorn, which very kindly and considerately +lent him an arm on the occasion. "It's a great mercy—a very great +mercy, Jim—as we wasn't both killed!—another minute, only another +minute, and—but it won't bear thinking on." + +<p>"Forgive me, Tom," said the penitent joker; "I never was so near a +corpse afore. If I didn't think the shots were clean through me, and +that's flat." + +<p>"Sich jokes," said Tom, "is onpardonable, and you must be mad." + +<p>"I confess I'm out of my head, Tom," said Jim, who was dangling the +huge mask in his hand, and fast recovering from the effects of his +fright. "Depend on it, I won't put myself in such a perdicament again, +Tom. No, no—no more playing the devil; for, egad! you had liked to have +played the devil with me." + +<p>"A joke's a joke," sagely remarked Tom, picking up his hat and fowling +piece. + +<p>"True!" replied Smith; "but, I think, after all, I had the greatest +cause for being in a fright. You had the best chance, at any rate; for I +could not have harmed you, whereas you might have made a riddle of me." + +<p>"Stay, there!" answered Tom; "I can tell you, you had as little cause +for fear as I had, you come to that; for the truth is, the deuce a bit +of powder or shot either was there in the piece!" + +<p>"You don't say so!" said Jim, evidently disappointed and chop-fallen +at this discovery of his groundless fears. "Well, I only wish I'd known +it, that's all!"—then, cogitating inwardly for a minute, he +continued—"but, I say, Tom, you won't mention this little fright of yours?" + +<p>"No; but I'll mention the great fright—of Jim Smith—rely upon it," +said Tom, firmly; and he kept his word so faithfully, that the next day +the whole story was circulated, with many ingenious additions, to the +great annoyance of the practical joker. + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Here we go up—up—up;</i> +<br><i>And here we go down—down—down."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + + +<br><br> +<a name="Odd32 Whiting"></a> +<center> +<img alt="Odd32 Whiting (89K)" src="images/Odd32%20Whiting.jpg" height="1039" width="683" /> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<p>"VARIETY," as Cowper says, "is the very spice of life"—and certainly, at +Margate, there is enough, in all conscience, to delight the most +fastidious of pleasure-hunters. + +<p>There sailors ply for passengers for a trip in their pleasure boats, +setting forth all the tempting delights of a fine breeze—and woe-betide +the unfortunate cockney who gets in the clutches of a pair of plyers of +this sort, for he becomes as fixed as if he were actually in a vice, +frequently making a virtue of necessity, and stepping on board, when he +had much better stroll on land. + +<p>Away he goes, on the wings of the wind, like—a gull! Should he be a +knave, it may probably be of infinite service to society, for he is +likely ever afterwards to forswear craft of any kind! + +<p>Donkies too abound, as they do in most watering placesand, oh! what a +many asses have we seen mounted, trotting along the beach and cliffs! + +<p>The insinuating address of the boatmen is, however, irresistible; and +if they cannot induce you to make a sail to catch the wind, they will set +forth, in all the glowing colors of a dying dolphin, the pleasurable +sport of catching fish! + +<p>They tell you of a gentleman, who, "the other day, pulled up, in a +single hour, I don't know how many fish, weighing I don't know how much." +And thus baited, some unwise gentleman unfortunately nibbles, and he is +caught. A bargain is struck, 'the boat is on the shore,' the lines and +hooks are displayed, and the victim steps in, scarcely conscious of what +he is about, but full well knowing that he is going to sea! + +<p>They put out to sea, and casting their baited hooks, the experienced +fisherman soon pulls up a fine lively whiting. + +<p>"Ecod!" exclaims the cockney, with dilated optics, "this is fine—why +that 'ere fish is worth a matter of a shilling in London—Do tell me how +you cotched him." + +<p>"With a hook!" replied the boatman. + +<p>"To be sure you did—but why did'nt he bite mine?" + +<p>"'Cause he came t'other side, I s'pose." + +<p>"Vell, let me try that side then," cries the tyro, and carefully +changes his position.—"Dear me, this here boat o'yourn wobbles about +rayther, mister." + +<p>"Nothing, sir, at all; it's only the motion of the water." + +<p>"I don't like it, tho'; I can tell you, it makes me feel all over +somehow." + +<p>"It will go off, sir, in time; there's another," and he pulls in +another wriggling fish, and casts him at the bottom of the boat. "Well, +that's plaguey tiresome, any how—two! and I've cotched nothin' yet—how +do you do it?" + +<p>"Just so—throw in your hook, and bide a bit—and you'll be sure, sir, +to feel when there's any thing on your hook; don't you feel any thing +yet?" + +<p>"Why, yes, I feels werry unwell!" cries the landsman; and, bringing up +his hook and bait, requests the good-natured boatman to pull for shore, +'like vinkin,'—which request; the obliging fellow immediately complies +with, having agreeably fished at the expense of his fare; and, landing +his whitings and the flat, laughs in his sleeve at the qualms of his +customer. + +<p>But there is always an abundant crop of such fools as he, who pretend +to dabble in a science, in utter ignorance of the elements; while, like +Jason of old, the wily boatman finds a sheep with a golden fleece,— +although his brains are always too much on the alert to be what is +technically termed—wool-gathering. Some people are desirous of seeing +every thing; and many landsmen have yet to learn, that they may see a +deal, without being a-board! + +<br><br> + + + + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p3.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p5.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><a name="Inside Papers"></a><img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" height="1119" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/old/orig5650-h/p5.htm b/old/orig5650-h/p5.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a1d77f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig5650-h/p5.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2371 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES, Part 5.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p4.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center><h1>SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR</h1></center> +<br><br> +<center><h2>PART FIVE</h2></center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Bookcover"></a><img alt="Bookcover.jpg (202K)" src="images/Bookcover.jpg" height="804" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Spine angled"></a><img alt="Spine angled.jpg (88K)" src="images/Spine%20angled.jpg" height="1229" width="648"> +</center><br><br><br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><a name="Title - Vol 2"></a><img alt="Title - Vol 2.jpg (90K)" src="images/Title%20-%20Vol%202.jpg" height="953" width="647"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><a name="Title - Shooting"></a><img alt="Title - Shooting.jpg (68K)" src="images/Title%20-%20Shooting.jpg" height="1003" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<blockquote><blockquote> +EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION:<br><br> + +"Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. +The copy used for this PG edition has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. +Some of the 90 plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings by +H. Wallis from sketches by Seymour." The printed book appears to be a compilation of five +smaller volumes. From the confused chapter titles the reader may well suspect the printer +mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete book in this +digital edition is split into five smaller volumes—the individual volumes +are of more manageable size than the 7mb complete version.<br><br> + +The importance of this collection is in the engravings. +The text is often mundane, is full of conundrums and puns +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.<br><br> + DW<br> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<h2>CONTENTS:</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + ANDREW MULLINS.</td></tr><tr><td> + —AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.</td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. I. </td><td><a href="#Mullins1">Introductory </a> </td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. II. </td><td><a href="#Mullins1">Let the neighbors smell ve has something</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. III. </td><td><a href="#Mullins3">I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IV. </td><td><a href="#Mullins4">A Situation.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. V. </td><td><a href="#Mullins5">The Stalking Horse.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VI. </td><td><a href="#Mullins6">A Commission.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VII. </td><td><a href="#Mullins7">The Cricket Match</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. VIII. </td><td><a href="#Mullins8">The Hunter.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. IX. </td><td><a href="#Mullins9">A Row to Blackwall.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. X. </td><td><a href="#Mullins10">The Pic-Nic.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XI. </td><td><a href="#Mullins11">The Journey Home.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XII. </td><td><a href="#Mullins12">Monsieur Dubois.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIII. </td><td><a href="#Mullins13">My Talent Called into Active Service.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XIV. </td><td><a href="#Mullins14">A Dilemma.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XV. </td><td><a href="#Mullins15">An Old Acquaintance.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVI. </td><td><a href="#Mullins16">The Loss of a Friend.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + CHAP. XVII. </td><td><a href="#Mullins17">Promotion.</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + A RIGMAROLE.</td></tr><tr><td> + PART I. </td><td><a href="#Rigmarole1">"De omnibus rebus."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART II. </td><td><a href="#Rigmarole2">"Acti labores Sunt jucundi"</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PART III. </td><td><a href="#Rigmarole3">"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</a></td></tr><tr><td> + </td></tr><tr><td> + INTERCEPTED LETTER</td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE I. </td><td><a href="#Intercepted Letter1">Dye think ve shall be in time for the hunt?</a></td></tr><tr><td> + PLATE II. </td><td><a href="#Intercepted Letter2">Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay!</a> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<center><h1>ANDREW MULLINS.<br>—AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.</h1></center> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER I.—Introductory.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins1"></a><img alt="Mullins1.jpg (62K)" src="images/Mullins1.jpg" height="905" width="599"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>THERE is certainly no style of writing requiring so much modest +assurance as autobiography; a position which, I am confident, neither +Lord Cherbury, nor Vidocq, or any other mortal blessed with an equal +developement of the organ of self-esteem, can or could deny. + +<p>HOME, ("sweet home,")—in his Douglas—gives, perhaps, one of the most +concise and concentrated specimens extant, of this species of +composition. With what an imposing air does his youthful hero blow his +own trumpet in those well-known lines, commencing, + + + <center><p>"My name is Norval."</center> + + +<p>Although a mere cock-boat in comparison with these first-rates, I +think I may safely follow in their wake. Should the critics, however, +condescend to carp at me for likening myself to a cock-boat, I have no +objection, if by a twist of their ingenuity, they can prove me to be a +little funny! + +<p>Economy was one of the most prominent characteristics of the family +from which I sprang. Now, some authors would weary their indulgent +readers with a flatulent chapter upon the moral beauty of this virtue; +but as my first wish is to win favor by my candor, I must honestly +confess, that necessity was the parent of this lean attenuated +offspring!—For, alas! + +<p>My 'angel mother,' (as Anna Maria phrases it,) was a woman of ten +thousand, for she dwelt in one of the most populous districts of London! +My sire, was of the most noble order of St. Crispin; and though he had +many faults, was continually mending—being the most eminent cobbler in +the neighbourhood. + +<p>Even in the outset of their connubial partnership, they started under +the most favorable auspices—for, whereas other couples marry for love or +money, they got married for 'nothing' taking advantage of the annual +gratuitous splicings performed at Shoreditch Church on one sunshiny +Easter Monday. + +<p>In less than three years my amiable mother presented her lord and +master with as many interesting pledges of their affection—I was the +cobbler's last—and + +<center><p>'Though last, not least, in their dear love.'</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER II.—Our Lodging.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<p>OUR precarious means were too small to permit us to rent a house, we +therefore rented one large room, which served us for— + + + <center><p>"Parlor and kitchen and all!"</center> + + +<p>in the uppermost story of a house, containing about a dozen families. + +<p>This 'airy' apartment was situated in a narrow alley of great +thoroughfare, in the heart of the great metropolis. + +<p>The lower part of this domicile was occupied by one James, who did +'porter's work,' while his wife superintended the trade of a +miscellaneous store, called a green-grocer's; although the stock +comprised, besides a respectable skew of cabbages, carrots, lettuces, and +other things in season, a barrel of small beer, a side of bacon, a few +red herrings, a black looking can of 'new milk,' and those less +perishable articles, Warren's blacking, and Flanders' bricks; while the +window was graced with a few samples of common confectionary, celebrated +under the sweet names of lollypops, Buonaparte's ribs, and bulls'-eyes. + +<p>In one pane, by permission, was placed the sign board of my honored +parent, informing the reading public, that + + +<center><p>'Repairs were neatly executed!'</center> + + +<p>In my mind's eye how distinctly do I behold that humble shop in all +the greenness and beauty of its Saturday morning's display. + +<p>Nor can I ever forget the kind dumpy motherly Mrs. James, who so often +patted my curly head, and presented me with a welcome slice of bread and +butter and a drink of milk, invariably repeating in her homely phrase, "a +child and a chicken is al'ays a pickin'"—and declaring her belief, that +the 'brat' got scarcely enough to "keep life and soul together"—the real +truth of which my craving stomach inwardly testified. + +<p>Talk of the charities of the wealthy, they are as 'airy nothings' in +the scale, compared with the unostentatious sympathy of the poor! The +former only give a portion of their excess, while the latter willingly +divide their humble crust with a fellow sufferer. + +<p>The agreeable routine of breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, was +unknown in our frugal establishment; if we obtained one good meal a day, +under any name, we were truly thankful. + +<p>To give some idea of our straitened circumstances, I must relate one +solitary instance of display on the maternal side. It was on a Saturday +night, the air and our appetites were equally keen, when my sire, having +unexpectedly touched a small sum, brought home a couple of pound of real +Epping. A scream of delight welcomed the savory morsel. + +<p>A fire was kindled, and the meat was presently hissing in the borrowed +frying-pan of our landlady. + +<p>I was already in bed, when the unusual sound and savor awoke me. I +rolled out in a twinkling, and squatting on the floor, watched the +culinary operations with greedy eyes. + +<p>"Tom," said my mother, addressing her spouse, "set open the door and +vinder, and let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for +once." + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER. III.—On Temperance.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn +her out!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins3"></a><img alt="Mullins3.jpg (64K)" src="images/Mullins3.jpg" height="957" width="639"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +ARMED with the authority and example of loyalty, for even that renowned +monarch—Old King Cole—was diurnally want to call for + + + <center><p>"His pipe and his glass"</center> + + +<p>and induced by the poetical strains of many a bard, from the classic +Anacreon to those of more modern times, who have celebrated the virtue of + + + <center><p>"Wine, mighty wine!"</center> + + +<p>it is not to be marvelled at, that men's minds have fallen victims to +the fascinations of the juice of the purple grape, or yielded to the +alluring temptations of the 'evil spirit.' + +<p>It is a lamentable truth, that notwithstanding the laudable and +wholesome exertions and admonitions of the Temperance and Tee-total +Societies, that the people of the United Kingdom are grievously addicted +to an excessive imbibation of spirituous liquors, cordials, and +compounds. + +<p>Although six-bottle men are now regarded as monstrosities, and +drinking parties are nearly exploded, tippling and dram-drinking among +the lower orders are perhaps more indulged in than ever. + +<p>The gilded and gorgeous temples—devoted to the worship of the +reeling-goddess GENEVA—blaze forth in every quarter of the vast +metropolis. + +<p>Is it matter of wonder, then, that while men of superior intellect and +education are still weak enough to seek excitement in vinous potations, +that the vulgar, poor, and destitute, should endeavour to drown their +sorrows by swallowing the liquid fires displayed under various names, by +the wily priests of Silenus! + +<p>That such a deduction is illogical we are well aware, but great +examples are plausible excuses to little minds. + +<p>Both my parents were naturally inclined to sobriety; but, +unfortunately, and as it too frequently happens, in low and crowded +neighbourhoods, drunkenness is as contagious as the small-pox, or any +other destructive malady. + +<p>Now, it chanced that in the first-floor of the house in which we +dwelt, there also resided one Stubbs and his wife. They had neither +chick nor child. Stubbs was a tailor by trade, and being a first-rate +workman, earned weekly a considerable sum; but, like too many of his +fraternity, he was seldom sober from Saturday night until Wednesday +morning. His loving spouse 'rowed in the same boat'—and the 'little +green-bottle' was dispatched several times during the days of their +Saturnalia, to be replenished at the never-failing fountain of the +'Shepherd and Flock.' + +<p>Unhappily, in one of her maudlin fits, Mrs. Stubbs took a particular +fancy to my mother; and one day, in the absence of the 'ninth,' beckoned +my unsuspecting parent into her sittingroom,—and after gratuitously +imparting to her the hum-drum history of her domestic squabbles, invited +her to take a 'drop o' summat'—to keep up her I sperrits.' + +<p>Alas! this was the first step—and she went on, and on, and on, until +that which at first she loathed became no longer disagreeable, and by +degrees grew into a craving that was irresistible;—and, at last, she +regularly hob-and-nobb'd' with the disconsolate rib of Stubbs, and shared +alike in all her troubles and her liquor. + +<p>Fain would I draw a veil over this frailty of my unfortunate parent; +but, being conscious that veracity is the very soul and essence of +history, I feel myself imperatively called upon neither to disguise nor +to cancel the truth. + +<p>My father remonstrated in vain-the passion had already taken too deep +a hold; and one day he was suddenly summoned from his work with the +startling information, that 'Mother Mullins'—(so the kind neighbour +phrased it) was sitting on the step of a public house, in the suburbs, +completely 'tosticated.' + +<p>He rushed out, and found the tale too true. A bricklayer in the +neighbourhood proposed the loan of his barrow, for the poor senseless +creature could not walk a step. Placing her in the one-wheel-carriage, +he made the best of his way home, amid the jeers of the multitude. +Moorfields was then only partially covered with houses; and as he passed +a deep hollow, on the side of which was placed a notice, intimating that + + <center><h3>"RUBBISH MAY BE SHOT HERE!"</h3></center> + +<p>his eyes caught the words, and in the bitterness of his heart he +exclaimed— + +<p>"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn +her out!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER IV.—A Situation.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I say, Jim, what birds are we most like now?" +"Why swallows, to be sure,"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins4"></a><img alt="Mullins4.jpg (94K)" src="images/Mullins4.jpg" height="903" width="645"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +IN the vicinity of our alley were numerous horse-rides, and my chief +delight was being entrusted with a horse, and galloping up and down the +straw-littered avenue.—I was about twelve years of age, and what was +termed a sharp lad, and I soon became a great favourite with the ostlers, +who admired the aptness with which I acquired the language of the +stables. + +<p>There were many stock-brokers who put up at the ride; among others was +Mr. Timmis—familiarly called long Jim Timmis. He was a bold, dashing, +good-humoured, vulgar man, who was quite at home with the ostlers, +generally conversing with them in their favourite lingo. + +<p>I had frequent opportunities of shewing him civilities, handing him +his whip, and holding his stirrup, etc. + +<p>One day he came to the ride in a most amiable and condescending +humour, and for the first time deigned to address me—"Whose kid are +you?" demanded he. + +<p>"Father's, sir," I replied. + +<p>"Do you know your father, then?" + +<p>"Yes, sir." + +<p>"A wise child this;" and he winked at the ostler, who, of course, +laughed incontinently. + +<p>"I want a-lad," continued he; "what do you say—would you like to +serve me?" + +<p>"If I could get any thing by it." + +<p>"D-me, if that a'int blunt." + +<p>"Yes, sir; that's what I mean." + +<p>"Mean! mean what?" + +<p>"If I could get any blunt, sir." + +<p>Hereupon he laughed outright, at what he considered my readiness, +although I merely used the cant term for "money," to which I was most +accustomed, from my education among the schoolmasters of the ride. + +<p>"Here, take my card," said he; "and tell the old codger, your father, +to bring you to my office to-morrow morning, at eleven." + +<p>"Well, blow me," exclaimed my friend the ostler, "if your fortin' +arn't made; I shall see you a tip-top sawyer—may I never touch another +tanner! Vy, I remembers Jim Timmis hisself vos nothin but a grubby +boy—Mother Timmis the washer-woman's son, here in +what-d've-call-'em-court—ven he vent to old Jarvis fust. He's a prime feller tho', and no +mistake—and thof he's no gentleman born, he pays like one, and vot's the +difference?" + +<p>The next morning, punctual to the hour, I waited at his office, which +was in a large building adjoining the Stock Exchange, as full as a +dove-cot, with gentlemen of the same feather. + +<p>"O!" said he, eyeing my parent, "and you're this chap's father, are +you? What are you?" + +<p>"A boot and shoe-maker, sir; and my Andrew is an honest lad." + +<p>"For the matter o' that, there's little he can prig here;" replied my +elegant and intended master. "But his tongs—eh—old fellow—can't you +rig him out a little?" + +<p>My father pleaded poverty; and at last he bargained to advance a +guinea, and deduct it out of my weekly-wages of two and sixpence, and no +board. My father was glad to make any terms, and the affair was +consequently soon arranged. I was quickly fitted out, and the next +morning attended his orders. + +<p>I had, however, little else to do than wait in his office, and run to +the Stock Exchange, to summon him when a customer dropped in. I had much +leisure, which I trust was not wholly thrown away, for I practised +writing on the back of the stock-receipts, of which a quantity hung up in +the office, and read all the books I could lay my hands on; although, I +must confess, the chief portion of my knowledge of the world has been +derived from observation. + + + <center><p>"The proper study of mankind is man."</center> + + +<p>Although quick in temper, and rude in speech and manners, Timmis was +kind; and, if he had a failing, it was the ambition of being a patron; +and he was certainly not one of those who do a good deed, and + + <center><p>"Blush to find it fame."</center> + +<p>He not only employed my father to make his boots, but recommended him +to all his friends as a "good-fit," and procured the old man some +excellent customers. Among his acquaintance, for he had few friends, was +Tom Wallis, a fat, facetious man, about forty, with whom he was always +lunching and cracking his jokes. One day, when the stocks were "shut" +and business was slack, they started together on a sporting excursion +towards the romantic region of Hornsey-wood, on which occasion I had the +honour of carrying a well-filled basket of provisions, and the inward +satisfaction of making a good dinner from the remnants. + +<p>They killed nothing but time, yet they were exceedingly merry, +especially during the discussion of the provisions. Their laughter, +indeed, was enough to scare all the birds in the neighbourhood. + +<p>"Jim, if you wanted to correct those sheep yonder," said Tom, "what +sort of tool would you use?" + +<p>"An ewe-twig, of course," replied my master. + +<p>"No; that's devilish good," said Wallis; "but you ain't hit it yet." + +<p>"For a crown you don't do a better?" + +<p>"Done!" + +<p>"Well, what is it?" + +<p>"Why, a Ram-rod to be sure—as we're sportsmen." + +<p>My master agreed that it was more appropriate, and the good-natured +Tom Wallis flung the crown he had won to me. + +<p>"Here's another," continued he, as Mr. Timmis was just raising a +bottle of pale sherry to his lips—"I say, Jim, what birds are we most +like now?" + +<p>"Why swallows, to be sure," quickly replied my patron; who was really, +on most occasions, a match for his croney in the sublime art of punning, +and making conundrums, a favourite pastime with the wits of the Stock +Exchange. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER V.—The Stalking Horse.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Retributive Justice"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins5"></a><img alt="Mullins5.jpg (77K)" src="images/Mullins5.jpg" height="989" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +ON the same landing where Timmis (as he termed it) 'held out,' were five +or six closets nick-named offices, and three other boys. One was the +nephew of the before-mentioned Wallis, and a very imp of mischief; +another, only a boy, with nothing remarkable but his stupidity; while the +fourth was a scrubby, stunted, fellow, about sixteen or seventeen years +of age, with a long pale face, deeply pitted with the small-pox, and an +irregular crop of light hair, most unscientifically cut into tufts. + +<p>He, by reason of his seniority and his gravity, soon became the oracle +of the party. We usually found him seated on the stairs of the first +floor, lost in the perusal of some ragged book of the marvellous +school—scraps of which he used to read aloud to us, with more unction than +propriety, indulging rather too much in the note of admiration style; for +which he soon obtained the name of Old Emphatic!—But I must confess we +did obtain a great deal of information from his select reading, and were +tolerably good listeners too, notwithstanding his peculiar delivery, for +somehow he appeared to have a permanent cold in his head, which sometimes +threw a tone of irresistible ridicule into his most pathetic bits. + +<p>He bore the scriptural name of Matthew and was, as he informed us, a +'horphan'—adding, with a particular pathos, 'without father or mother!' +His melancholy was, I think, rather attributable to bile than +destitution, which he superinduced by feeding almost entirely on +'second-hand pastry,' purchased from the little Jew-boys, who hawk about their +'tempting' trash in the vicinity of the Bank. + +<p>Matthew, like other youths of a poetical temperament, from Petrarch +down to Lord Byron, had a 'passion.' + +<p>I accidentally discovered the object of his platonic flame in the +person of the little grubby-girl—the servant of the house-keeper—for, +as the proverb truly says, + + <center><p>"Love and a cough cannot be hid."</center> + +<p>The tender passion first evinced itself in his delicate +attentions;—nor was the quick-eyed maid slow to discover her conquest. Her +penetration, however, was greater than her sympathy. With a tact that +would not have disgraced a politician—in a better cause, she adroitly +turned the swelling current of his love to her own purposes. + +<p>As the onward flowing stream is made to turn the wheel, while the +miller sings at the window, so did she avail herself of his strength to +do her work, while she gaily hummed a time, and sadly 'hummed' poor +Matthew. + +<p>There being nearly thirty offices in the building, there were of +course in winter as many fires, and as many coal-scuttles required. When +the eyes of the devoted Matthew gazed on the object of his heart's desire +toiling up the well-stair, he felt he knew not what; and, with a heart +palpitating with the apprehension that his proffered service might be +rejected (poor deluded mortal!), he begged he might assist her. With a +glance that he thought sufficient to ignite the insensible carbon, she +accepted his offer. Happy Matthew!—he grasped the handles her warm +red-hands had touched!—Cold-blooded, unimaginative beings may deride his +enthusiasm; but after all, the sentiment he experienced was similar to, +and quite as pure, as that of Tom Jones, when he fondled Sophia Western's +little muff. + +<p>But, alas!— + + <center><p>"The course of true love never did run smooth."</center> + +<p>Two months after this event, 'his Mary' married the baker's man!— + + <center><p>* * * * * * * * * *</center> + +<p>Wallis's nephew had several times invited me to pay him a visit at his +uncle's house, at Crouchend; and so once, during the absence of that +gentleman who was ruralizing at Tonbridge, I trudged down to his villa. + +<p>Nothing would suit Master John, but that he must 'have out' his +uncle's gun; and we certainly shot at, and frightened, many sparrows. + +<p>He was just pointing at a fresh quarry, when the loud crow of a cock +arrested his arm. + +<p>"That's Doddington's game 'un, I know," said Master John. "What d'ye +think—if he did'nt 'pitch into' our 'dunghill' the other day, and laid +him dead at a blow. I owe him one!—Come along." I followed in his +footsteps, and soon beheld Chanticleer crowing with all the ostentation +of a victor at the hens he had so ruthlessly widowed. A clothes-horse, +with a ragged blanket, screened us from his view; and Master'John, +putting the muzzle of his gun through a hole in this novel ambuscade, +discharged its contents point blank into the proclaimer of the morn—and +laid him low. + +<p>I trembled; for I felt that we had committed a 'foul murder.' Master +Johnny, however, derided my fears—called it retributive justice—and +ignominiously consigned the remains of a game-cock to a dunghill! + +<p>The affair appeared so like a cowardly assassination, in which I was +(though unwillingly—) 'particeps criminis'—that I walked away without +partaking of the gooseberry-pie, which he had provided for our supper. + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER VI.—A Commission.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; if you carry me, don't I +carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins6"></a><img alt="Mullins6.jpg (63K)" src="images/Mullins6.jpg" height="987" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +I was early at my post on the following morning, being particularly +anxious to meet with Mr. Wallis's scapegrace nephew, and ascertain +whether anybody had found the dead body of the game-cock, and whether an +inquest had been held; for I knew enough of the world to draw my own +conclusions as to the result. He, although the principal, being a +relative, would get off with a lecture, while I should probably be kicked +out of my place. + +<p>In a fever of expectation, I hung over the banisters of the +geometrical staircase, watching for his arrival. + +<p>While I was thus occupied, my nerves "screwed up,"—almost to +cracking, Mr. Wallis's office-door was thrown open, and I beheld that +very gentleman's round, pleasant physiognomy, embrowned by his travels, +staring me full in the face. I really lost my equilibrium at the +apparition. + +<p>"Oh!—it's you, is it," cried he. "Where's my rascal?" + +<p>"He's not come yet, sir," I replied. + +<p>"That fellow's never at hand when I want him—I'll cashier him by +___." He slammed to his own door, and—opened it again immediately. + +<p>"Timmis come?" demanded he. + +<p>"No, sir; I don't think he'll be here for an hour." + +<p>"True—I'm early in the field; but what brings you here so soon?—some +mischief, I suppose." + +<p>"I'm always early, sir, for I live hard by." + +<p>"Ha!—well—I wish—." + +<p>"Can I do anything for you, sir?" I enquired. + +<p>"Why, that's a good thought," said he, and his countenance assumed its +usually bland expression. "Let me see—I want to send my carpet-bag, and +a message, to my housekeeper." + +<p>"I can do it, sir, and be back again in no time," cried I, elated at +having an opportunity of obliging the man whom I had really some cause to +fear, in the critical situation in which his nephew's thoughtlessness had +placed me. + +<p>In my eagerness, however, and notwithstanding the political acuteness +of my manoeuvre, I got myself into an awful dilemma. Having received the +bag, and his message, I walked off, but had scarcely descended a dozen +stairs when he recalled me. + +<p>"Where the devil are you going?" cried he. + +<p>"To your house, sir," I innocently replied. + +<p>"What, do you know it, then?" demanded he in surprise. + +<p>Here was a position. It was a miracle that I did not roll over the +carpet-bag and break my neck, in the confusion of ideas engendered by +this simple query. + +<p>I could not lie, and evasion was not my forte. A man or boy in the +wrong can never express himself with propriety; an opinion in which +Quinctilian also appears to coincide, when he asserts— + + <center><p>"Orator perfectus nisi vir bonus esse non potest."</center> + +<p>I therefore summoned up sufficient breath and courage to answer him in +the affirmative. + +<p>"And when, pray, were you there?" said he. + +<p>"Yesterday, sir, your nephew asked me to come and see him." + +<p>"The impudent little blackguard?" cried he. + +<p>"I hope you ain't angry, sir?" + +<p>"Angry with you?—no, my lad; you're an active little chap, and I wish +that imp of mine would take a pattern by you. Trot along, and mind you +have 'a lift' both ways." + +<p>Off I went, as light as a balloon when the ropes are cut. + +<p>I executed my commission with dispatch, and completely won the favour +of Mr. Wallis, by returning the money which he had given me for +coach-hire. + +<p>"How's this?—you didn't tramp, did you?" said he. + +<p>"No, sir, I rode both ways," I replied; "but I knew the coachmen, and +they gave me a cast for nothing." + +<p>"Umph!—well, that's quite proper—quite proper," said he, considering +a moment. "Honesty's the best policy." + +<p>"Father always told me so, sir." + +<p>"Your father's right;—there's half-a-crown for you." + +<p>I was delighted— + + <center><p>"Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum;"</center> + +<p>and I felt the truth of this line of Dr. Johnson's, although I was +then ignorant of it. I met his nephew on the landing, but my fears had +vanished. We talked, however, of the departed bird, and he wished me, in +the event of discovery, to declare that I had loaded and carried the gun, +and that he would bear the rest of the blame. + +<p>This, however, strongly reminded me of the two Irish smugglers:—one +had a wooden leg, and carried the cask; while his comrade, who had the +use of both his pins, bore him upon his shoulders, and, complaining of +the weight, the other replied:—"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the +bothuration; if you carry me, don't I carry the whiskey, sure, and that's +fair and aqual!" and I at once declined any such Hibernian partnership in +the affair, quite resolved that he should bear the whole onus upon his +own shoulders. + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER, VII.—The Cricket Match</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Out! so don't fatigue yourself, I beg, sir."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins7"></a><img alt="Mullins7.jpg (65K)" src="images/Mullins7.jpg" height="966" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>I soon discovered that my conduct had been reported in the most +favourable colours to Mr. Timmis, and the consequence was that he began +to take more notice of me. + +<p>"Andrew, what sort of a fist can you write?" demanded he. I shewed +him some caligraphic specimens. + +<p>"D___ me, if your y's and your g's hav'nt tails like skippingropes. +We must have a little topping and tailing here, and I think you'll do. +Here, make out this account, and enter it in the book." + +<p>He left me to do his bidding; and when he returned from the +Stock-Exchange, inspected the performance, which I had executed with perspiring +ardour. + +<p>I watched his countenance. "That'll do—you're a brick! I'll make a +man of you—d___ me." + +<p>From this day forward I had the honour of keeping his books, and +making out the accounts. I was already a person of importance, and +certainly some steps above the boys on the landing. + +<p>I did not, however, obtain any advance in my weekly wages; but on +"good-days" got a douceur, varying from half a crown to half a sovereign! +and looked upon myself as a made man. Most of the receipts went to my +father; whatever he returned to me I spent at a neighbouring book-stall, +and in the course of twelve months I possessed a library of most amusing +and instructive literature,—Heaven knows! of a most miscellaneous +character, for I had no one to guide me in the selection. + +<p>Among Mr. Timmis's numerous clients, was one Mr. Cornelius Crobble, a +man of most extraordinary dimensions; he was also a "chum" of, and +frequently made one of a party with, his friend Mr. Wallis, and other +croneys, to white-bait dinners at Blackwall, and other intellectual +banquets. In fact, he seldom made his appearance at the office, but the +visit ended in an engagement to dine at some "crack-house" or other. The +cost of the "feed," as Mr. Timmis termed it, was generally decided by a +toss of "best two and three;" and somehow it invariably happened that Mr. +Crobble lost; but he was so good-humoured, that really it was a pleasure, +as Mr. Wallis said, to "grub" at his expense. + +<p>They nick-named him Maximo Rotundo—and he well deserved the title. + +<p>"Where's Timmis?" said he, one day after he had taken a seat, and +puffed and blowed for the space of five minutes—"Cuss them stairs; +they'll be the death o' me." + +<p>I ran to summon my master. + +<p>"How are you, old fellow?" demanded Mr. Timmis; "tip us your fin." + +<p>"Queer!" replied Mr. Crobble,—tapping his breast gently with his fat +fist, and puffing out his cheeks—to indicate that his lungs were +disordered. + +<p>"What, bellows to mend?" cried my accomplished patron—"D___ me, never +say die!" + +<p>"Just come from Doctor Sprawles: says I must take exercise; no malt +liquor—nothing at breakfast—no lunch—no supper." + +<p>"Why, you'll be a skeleton—a transfer from the consolidated to the +reduced in no time," exclaimed Mr. Timmis; and his friend joined in the +laugh. + +<p>"I was a-thinking, Timmis—don't you belong to a cricketclub?" + +<p>"To be sure." + +<p>—"Of joining you." + +<p>"That's the ticket," cried Timmis—"consider yourself elected; I can +carry any thing there. I'm quite the cock of the walk, and no mistake. +Next Thursday's a field-day—I'll introduce you. Lord! you'll soon be +right as a trivet." + +<p>Mr Wallis was summoned, and the affair was soon arranged; and I had +the gratification of being present at Mr. Crobble's inauguration. + +<p>It was a broiling day, and there was a full field; but he conducted +himself manfully, notwithstanding the jokes of the club. He batted +exceedingly well, "considering," as Mr. Wallis remarked; but as for the +"runs," he was completely at fault. + +<p>He only attempted it once; but before he had advanced a yard or two, +the ball was caught; and the agile player, striking the wicket with ease, +exclaimed, amid the laughter of the spectators—"Out! so don't fatigue +yourself, I beg, sir." + +<p>And so the match was concluded, amid cheers and shouting, in which the +rotund, good-natured novice joined most heartily. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER VIII.—The Hunter.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Hunting may be sport, says I, but I'm blest if its pleasure."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins8"></a><img alt="Mullins8.jpg (64K)" src="images/Mullins8.jpg" height="820" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +Two days after the cricket-match, Mr. Crobble paid a visit to my master. + +<p>"Well, old fellow, d___ me me, if you ain't a trump—how's your wind?"—kindly enquired Mr. Timmis. + +<p>"Vastly better, thank'ye; how's Wallis and the other fellows?—prime +sport that cricketing." + +<p>"Yes; but, I say, you'll never have 'a run' of luck, if you stick to +the wicket so." + +<p>"True; but I made a hit or two, you must allow," replied Mr. Crobble; +"though I'm afraid I'm a sorry member." + +<p>"A member, indeed!—no, no; you're the body, and we're the—members," +replied Mr. Timmis, laughing; "but, halloo! what's that patch on your +forehead—bin a fighting?" + +<p>"No; but I've been a hunting," said Mr. Crobble, "and this here's the +fruits—You know my gray?" + +<p>"The nag you swopp'd the bay roadster for with Tom Brown?" + +<p>"Him," answered Crobble. "Well, I took him to Hertfordshire Wednesday +last—" + +<p>"He took you, you mean." + +<p>"Well, what's the odds?" + +<p>"The odds, why, in your favour, to be sure, as I dare say the horse +can witness." + +<p>"Well, howsomever, there was a good field—and off we went. The level +country was all prime; but he took a hedge, and nearly julked all the +life out o' me. I lost my stirrup, and should have lost my seat, had'nt +I clutched his mane—" + +<p>"And kept your seat by main force?" + +<p>"Very good." + +<p>"Well, away we went, like Johnny Gilpin. Hunting may be sport, says +I, but I'm blest if its pleasure. This infernal horse was always fond of +shying, and now he's going to shy me off; and, ecod! no sooner said than +done. Over his head I go, like a rocket." + +<p>"Like a foot-ball, you mean," interrupted Mr. Timmis. + +<p>"And, as luck would have it, tumbles into a ditch, plump with my head +agin the bank." + +<p>"By jingo! such a 'run' upon the bank was enough to break it," cried +my master, whose propensity to crack a joke overcame all feeling of +sympathy for his friend. + +<p>"It broke my head though; and warn't I in a precious mess—that's +all—up to my neck, and no mistake—and black as a chimney-sweep—such mud!" + +<p>"And only think of a man of your property investing his substance in +mud! That is a good 'un!—Andrew," said he, "tell Wally to come here." +I summoned his crony, and sat myself down to the books, to enjoy the +sportive sallies of the two friends, who roasted the 'fat buck,' their +loving companion, most unmercifully. + +<p>"You sly old badger," cried Wallis, "why, you must have picked out the +ditch." + +<p>"No, but they picked out me, and a precious figure I cut—I can tell +you—I was dripping from top to toe." + +<p>"Very like dripping, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, eyeing his fat +friend, and bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter. The meeting +ended, as usual, with a bet for a dinner at the "Plough" for themselves +and their friends, which Mr. Crobble lost—as usual. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER IX.—A Row to Blackwall.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>'To be sold, warranted sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a +lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady.'</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins9"></a><img alt="Mullins9.jpg (77K)" src="images/Mullins9.jpg" height="1008" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +STEAM-BOATS did not run to Greenwich and Blackwall at this period; and +those who resorted to the white-bait establishments at those places, +either availed themselves of a coach or a boat. Being now transformed, +by a little personal merit, and a great favour, from a full-grown +errand-boy to a small clerk, Mr. Timmis, at the suggestion of my good friend Mr. +Wallis, offered me, as a treat, a row in the boat they had engaged for +the occasion; which, as a matter of course, I did not refuse: making +myself as spruce as my limited wardrobe would permit, I trotted at their +heels to the foot of London-bridge, the point of embarkation. + +<p>The party, including the boatman, consisted of eight souls; the tide +was in our favour, and away we went, as merry a company as ever floated +on the bosom of Father Thames. Mr. Crobble was the chief mark for all +their sallies, and indeed he really appeared, from his size, to have been +intended by Nature for a "butt," as Mr. Wallis wickedly remarked. + +<p>"You told, me, Crobble, of your hunting exploit in Hertfordshire," +said Mr. Wallis; "I'll tell you something as bangs that hollow; I'm sure +I thought I should have split with laughter when I heard of it. You know +the old frump, my Aunt Betty, Timmis?" + +<p>"To be sure—she with the ten thousand in the threes," replied Mr. +Timmis; "a worthy creature; and I'm sure you admire her principal." + +<p>"Don't I," cried Wallis; and he winked significantly at his friend. + +<p>"Well, what d'ye think; she, and Miss Scragg, her toady, were in the +country t'other day, and must needs amuse themselves in an airing upon a +couple of prads. + +<p>"Well; they were cantering along—doing the handsome—and had just +come to the border of a pond, when a donkey pops his innocent nose over a +fence in their rear, and began to heehaw' in a most melodious strain. +The nags pricked up their ears in a twinkling, and made no more ado but +bolted. Poor aunty tugged! but all in vain; her bay-cob ran into the +water; and she lost both her presence of mind and her seat, and plumped +swash into the pond—her riding habit spreading out into a beautiful +circle—while she lay squalling and bawling out in the centre, like a +little piece of beef in the middle of a large batter-pudding! Miss +Scragg, meanwhile, stuck to her graymare, and went bumping along to the +admiration of all beholders, and was soon out of sight: luckily a joskin, +who witnessed my dear aunt's immersion, ran to her assistance, and, with +the help of his pitch-fork, safely landed her; for unfortunately the pond +was not above three or four feet deep! and so she missed the chance of +being an angel!" + +<p>"And you the transfer of her threes!—what a pity!" said the +sympathizing Mr. Timmis. + +<p>"When I heard of the accident, of course, as in duty bound, I wrote an +anxious letter of affectionate enquiry and condolence. At the same +period, seeing an advertisement in the Times—'To be sold, warranted +sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob, +quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady'—I was so tickled with +the co-incidence, that I cut it out, and sent it to her in an envelope." + +<p>"Prime! by Jove!"—shouted Mr. Crobble—"But, I say, Wallis—you +should have sent her a 'duck' too, as a symbolical memorial of her +accident!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER X.—The Pic-Nic.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>—-had just spread out their +prog on a clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of a +cow. </i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins10"></a><img alt="Mullins10.jpg (82K)" src="images/Mullins10.jpg" height="922" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"PEOPLE should never undertake to do a thing they don't perfectly +understand," remarked Mr. Crobble, "they're sure to make fools o' +themselves in the end. There's Tom Davis, (you know Tom Davis?) he's +always putting his notions into people's heads, and turning the laugh +against 'em. If there's a ditch in the way, he's sure to dare some of +his companions to leap it, before he overs it himself; if he finds it +safe, away he springs like a greyhound." + +<p>"Exactly him, I know him," replied Mr. Timmis; "that's what he calls +learning to shave upon other people's chins!" + +<p>"Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis. + +<p>"He's a very devil," continued Mr. Crobble; "always proposing some fun +or other: Pic-nics are his delight; but he always leaves others to bring +the grub, and brings nothing but himself. I hate Pic-nics, squatting in +the grass don't suit me at all; when once down, I find it no easy matter +to get up again, I can tell you." + +<p>Hereupon there was a general laugh. + +<p>"Talking of Pic-nics," said Mr. Timmis, "reminds me of one that was +held the other day in a meadow, on the banks of the Lea. The party, +consisting of ladies only, and a little boy, had just spread out their +prog on a clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of a +cow. They were presently on their pins, (cow'd, of course,) and sheered +off to a respectful distance, while the cow walked leisurely over the +table-cloth, smelling the materials of the feast, and popp'd her cloven +foot plump into a currant and raspberry pie! and they had a precious deal +of trouble to draw her off; for, as Tom Davis said, there were some +veal-patties there, which were, no doubt, made out of one of her calves; and +in her maternal solicitude, she completely demolished the plates and +dishes, leaving the affrighted party nothing more than the broken +victuals." + +<p>"What a lark!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I would have given a guinea to +have witnessed the fun. That cow was a trojan!" + +<p>"A star in the milky way," cried Mr. Wallis. + +<p>We now approached the 'Plough;' and Mr. Crobble having 'satisfied' the +boatman, Mr. Wallis gave me half-a-crown, and bade me make the best of my +way home. I pocketed the money, and resolved to 'go on the highway,' and +trudge on foot. + +<p>"Andrew," said my worthy patron, "now don't go and make a beast of +yourself, but walk straight home." + +<p>"Andrew," said Mr. Wallis, imitating his friend's tone of admonition; +"if any body asks you to treat 'em, bolt; if any body offers to treat +you, retreat!" + +<p>"Andrew," said Mr. Crobble, who was determined to put in his oar, and +row in the same boat as his friends; "Andrew,"—"Yes, Sir;" and I touched +my hat with due respect, while his two friends bent forward to catch his +words. "Andrew," repeated he, for the third time, "avoid evil +communication, and get thee gone from Blackwall, as fast as your legs can +carry you—for, there's villainous bad company just landed here—wicked +enough to spoil even the immaculate Mr. Cornelius Crobble!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XI.—The Journey Home.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"—"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins11"></a><img alt="Mullins11.jpg (85K)" src="images/Mullins11.jpg" height="975" width="648"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +I FOUND myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and +his friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with +jack-tars. + +<p>Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached +Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved +with extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their +mirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering +for Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for a +saddle, and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking a +short pipe, while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass. + +<p>"Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front. + +<p>"Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the +rein. + +<p>"Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd. + +<p>"To the port o' Blackwall," replied the steersman. "But we're going +quite in the wind's eye, and I'm afeared we shan't make it to-night." + +<p>"A queer craft." + +<p>"Werry," replied Tom. "Don't answer the helm at all." + +<p>"Any grog on board?" demanded the sailor. + +<p>"Not enough to wet the boatswain's whistle; for, da'e see, mate, +there's no room for stowage." + +<p>"Shiver my timbers!—no grog!" exclaimed the other; "why—you'll +founder. If you don't splice the main-brace, you'll not make a knot an +hour. Heave to—and let's drink success to the voyage." + +<p>"With all my heart, mate, for I'm precious krank with tacking. +Larboard, Tom—larboard." + +<p>"Aye, aye—larboard it is." + +<p>"Now, run her right into that 'ere spirit-shop to leeward, and let's +have a bowl." + +<p>Tom tugged away, and soon "brought up" at the door of a wine-vaults. + +<p>"Let go the anchor," exclaimed his messmate—"that's it—coil up." + +<p>"Here, mate—here's a picter of his royal majesty"—giving the sailor +alongside a new guinea—"and now tell the steward to mix us a jorum as +stiff as a nor'wester, and, let's all drink the King's health—God bless +him." + +<p>"Hooray!" shouted the delighted mob. + +<p>Their quondam friend soon did his bidding, bringing out a huge +china-bowl filled with grog, which was handed round to every soul within reach, +and presently dispatched;—two others followed, before they "weighed +anchor and proceeded on their voyage," cheered by the ragged multitude, +among whom they lavishly scattered their change; and a most riotous and +ridiculous scramble it produced. + +<p>I was much pleased with the novelty of the scene, and escaped from the +crowd as quickly as I conveniently could, for I was rather apprehensive +of an attempt upon my pockets. + +<p>What strange beings are these sailors! They have no care for the +morrow, but spend lavishly the hard-earned wages of their adventurous +life. To one like myself, who early knew the value of money, this +thoughtless extravagance certainly appeared unaccountable, and nearly +allied to madness; but, when I reflected that they are sometimes +imprisoned in a ship for years, without touching land, and frequently in +peril of losing their lives—that they have scarcely time to scatter +their wages and prize-money in the short intervals which chance offers +them of mixing with their fellow-men, my wonder changed to pity. + +<p>"A man in a ship," says Dr. Johnson, "is worse than a man in a jail; +for the latter has more room, better food, and commonly better company, +and is in safety." + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XII.—Monsieur Dubois.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's wulgar!—but if he's a mind to +anything like a gemman, here's my card!"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins12"></a><img alt="Mullins12.jpg (69K)" src="images/Mullins12.jpg" height="1012" width="651"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +THE love-lorn Matthew had departed, no doubt unable to bear the sight of +that staircase whose boards no longer resounded with the slip-slap of the +slippers of that hypocritical beauty, "his Mary." With him, the romance +of the landing-place, and the squad, had evaporated; and I had no +sympathies, no pursuits, in common with the remaining "boys"—my +newly-acquired post, too, nearly occupied the whole of my time, while my desire +of study increased with the acquisition of books, in which all my +pocket-money was expended. + +<p>One day, my good friend, Mr. Wallis, entered the office, followed by a +short, sharp-visaged man, with a sallow complexion; he was dressed in a +shabby frock, buttoned up to the throat—a rusty black silk neckerchief +supplying the place of shirt and collar. + +<p>He stood just within the threshold of the door, holding his napless +hat in his hand. + +<p>"Well, Wally, my buck," cried my master, extending his hand. + +<p>Mr. Wallis advanced close to his elbow, and spoke in a whisper; but I +observed, by the direction of his eyes, that the subject of his +communication was the stranger. + +<p>"Ha!" said Mr. Timmis, "it's all very well, Walley—but I hate all +forriners;—why don't he go back to Frogland, and not come here, palming +himself upon us. It's no go—not a scuddick. They're all a parcel o' +humbugs—and no mistake!" + +<p>As he uttered this gracious opinion sufficiently loud to strike upon +the tympanum of the poor fellow at the door, I could perceive his dark +eyes glisten, and the blood tinge his woe-begone cheeks; his lips +trembled with emotion: there was an evident struggle between offended +gentility, and urgent necessity. + +<p>Pride, however, gained the mastery; and advancing the right foot, he +raised his hat, and with peculiar grace bowing to the two +friends—"Pardon, Monsieur Vallis," said he, in tremulous accents, "I am 'de +trop;' permit, me to visdraw"—and instantly left the office. + +<p>Mr. Timmis, startled by his sudden exit, looked at Mr. Wallis for an +explanation. + +<p>"By ___!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis seriously—"you've hurt that poor +fellow's feelings. I would sooner have given a guinea than he should +have heard you. Dubois is a gentleman; and altho' he's completely +'stumped,' and has'nt a place to put his head in, he's tenacious of that +respect which is due to every man, whether he happens to be at a premium, +or a discount." + +<p>"Go it!" cried Mr. Timmis, colouring deeply at this merited +reproof—"If this ain't a reg'lar sermon! I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, +d___ me; I'm a reg'lar John Bull, and he should know better than to be +popped at my bluntness. D___ me, I wouldn't hurt a worm—you know I +wouldn't, Wallis." + +<p>There was a tone of contrition in this rambling apology that satisfied +Mr. Wallis of its truth; and he immediately entered into an explanation +on the Frenchman's situation. He had known him, he said, for several +years as a tutor in the family of one of his clients, by whom he was much +respected: a heavy loss had compelled them suddenly to reduce their +establishment; Dubois had entreated to remain with his pupil—refused to +receive any salary—and had even served his old patron in the capacity of +a menial, adhering to him in all his misfortunes, and only parted with +him, reluctantly, at the door of the debtor's prison! + +<p>"Did he do that?" said my master; and I saw his eyes moisten at the +relation. "A French mounseer do that! Game—d___ me!"—and lifting the +lid of his desk, he drew out a five pound note! "Here, Wallis, tip him +this flimsey! Tell him—you know what to say—I'm no speechifier—but +you know what I mean." I almost jumped up and hugged my master, I was so +excited. + +<p>The next day Monsieur Dubois again made his appearance; and Mr. Wallis +had the pleasure of beholding Mr. Timmis and his gallic friend on the +best terms imaginable. + +<p>As for me, I had good cause to rejoice; for it was agreed that I +should take lessons in the "foreign lingo," by way of giving him "a +lift," as Mr. Timmis expressed it. I remember him with feelings of +gratitude; for I owe much more than the knowledge of the language to his +kindness and instruction. + +<p>As for Mr. Timmis, he could never sufficiently appreciate his worth, +although he uniformly treated him with kindness. + +<p>"Talk of refinement," said he, one day, when discussing Dubois' merits +with Mr. Wallis; "I saw a bit to-day as bangs everything. A cadger +sweeping a crossing fell out with a dustman. Wasn't there some spicy jaw +betwixt 'em. Well, nothing would suit, but the dustman must have a go, +and pitch into the cadger. + +<p>"D___ me, what does the cove do, but he outs with a bit of dirty +pasteboard, and he says, says he, "I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's +wulgar!—but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my card!" +Wasn't there a roar! I lugg'd out a bob, and flung it at the vagabond +for his wit." + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XIII.—My Talent Called into Active Service.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?"</i> +<p><i>"I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly +warmints."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins13"></a><img alt="Mullins13.jpg (57K)" src="images/Mullins13.jpg" height="925" width="647"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +HAVING to deliver a letter, containing an account and a stock receipt, to +one of Mr. Timmis's clients, residing at the west end of the town; in +crossing through one of the fashionable squares, I observed a flat-faced +negro servant in livery, standing at the door of one of the houses. + +<p>Two chimney sweepers who happened to be passing, showed their white +teeth in a contemptuous grin at the African. + +<p>"Bob," I overheard one remark, "ar'n't you glad you ain't a +black-a-moor?" + +<p>"I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly +warmints. Master's daughter, wots come from boarding school! says the +sight of 'ems' enough to frighten one into conwulsions!" + +<p>Alas! for the prejudice of the world! How much this ignorant remark +reminded me of my patron's unfounded hatred of all "forriners." It was +precisely the same sentiment, differently expressed, that actuated the +thoughts and opinions of both. + +<p>I must, however, do Mr. Timmis the justice to say, that he made ample +amends to Monsieur Dubois for the affront he had so thoughtlessly put +upon the worthy Frenchman; and did all in his power to obtain him pupils. + +<p>The consequent change in his dress and manner, his amiable conduct, +and gentlemanly deportment, at last completely won upon the esteem of the +boisterous broker, who swore, (for that was generally his elegant manner +of expressing his sincerity) that Dubois was a 'downright good'un;' and +were it not for his foreign accent, he should have taken him for an +Englishman born—really believing, that there was no virtue in the world +but of English growth. + +<p>I had now been above twelve-months in his office, and although I had +received but a moderate compensation for my services, yet the vast +improvement I had made (thanks to the instruction of Monsieur Dubois,) +was more valuable than gold. My father also, though but scantily +furnished with book-knowledge, had, nevertheless, the good sense to +appreciate and encourage my progress; he was well aware, from +observation, that 'knowledge is power,' and would frequently quote the +old saw, +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + "When house, and land, and money's spent;<br> + Then larning is most excellent"— + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<p>and spared all the money he could scrape together to purchase books +for me. + +<p>One day Mr. Crobble came into the office with an open letter in his +hand. "Here,"—cried he, "I've received a remittance at last from that, +German fellow—two good bills on the first house in the city—but I can't +make top nor tail of his rigmarole. Do you know any chap among your +acquaintance who can read German?" + +<p>"Not I," replied Mr. Timmis. + +<p>"Will you allow me, Mr. Crobble?" said I, stepping forward. "This +letter is written in French, not German, Sir," I observed. + +<p>"What's the difference to me, Master Andrew; it might as well be in +wild Irish, for the matter o' that." + +<p>"Andrew can read the lingo," said my master. + +<p>"The devil he can!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I dare say I shall be able +to make it out," said I; "and if not, Monsieur Dubois will be here; +to-morrow morning, and you can have it by twelve o'clock, sir." + +<p>"Ain't that the ticket?" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, delighted at the +surprise of his friend; "you don't know how vastly clever we are, old +fellow." + +<p>Mr. Crobble, much gratified at this information, placed the letter in +my hands; and, leaving me to take a lunch at Garraway's with Mr. Timmis, +I eagerly sat about my task—and luckily it was not only plainly written, +but the subject-matter by no means difficult, being rather complimentary +than technical. By the time they returned, I had not only translated, +but made a fair copy of it, in my best hand. + +<p>"Come, that is clever," said Mr. Crobble; "let me see, now, what shall +I give you?" + +<p>"Nothing, Sir," I promptly replied; "I am Mr. Timmis's clerk—and all +that I know I owe to his kindness." + +<p>I saw, with pleasure, that this compliment was not lost upon my +master. + +<p>Mr. Crobble was really a gentleman in feeling, and therefore did not +persist in offering me any remuneration; but as he left the office, he +said, "I thank you, Mr. Andrew—I shall not forget your services;" and +departed evidently much pleased with my performance. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XIV.—A Dilemma.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates,"</i> +<p><i>"Well, can we go forward, then?"—"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are +under water;"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins14"></a><img alt="Mullins14.jpg (74K)" src="images/Mullins14.jpg" height="949" width="609"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates," said a bumpkin on the +road-side to a Cockney-party in a one-horse chaise. + +<p>"Well, can we go forward, then?" demanded the anxious and wearied +traveller. + +<p>"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are under water;" replied the joskin, +with a grin. + +<p>This was certainly a situation more ridiculous than interesting; and I +smiled when I heard the story told, little suspecting that Fortune would +one day throw me into a similar dilemina—so blindly do we mortals hug +ourselves in the supposed security of our tact and foresight. + +<p>"How d'ye do, Mr. Andrew," said Mr. Crobble, when he had seated +himself, and sufficiently inflated his lungs, after the fatiguing +operation of mounting the stairs. + +<p>"Where's Timmis?—tell him I want a word with him." + +<p>I quickly summoned my patron, and followed him into the office. + +<p>"Well, old puff and blow!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, with his usual +familiarity. + +<p>"What's in the wind? Want to sell out? The fives are fallen three +per cent. since Friday. All the 'Change is as busy as the devil in a +high wind." + +<p>"No—no more dabbling, Timmis," replied Mr. Crobble; "I lost a cool +hundred last account; I want a word in private with you"—and he glanced +towards me; upon which I seized my hat, and took up my position at my old +post on the landing. How were my feelings altered since I first loitered +there, listening to the marvels of poor Matthew! + +<p>I was lost in a pleasant reverie, when the sharp voice of Mr. Timmis +recalled me. + +<p>"Andrew," said he, "my friend Crobble wants a clerk, and has cast his +eye upon you. What do you say?" + +<p>I scarcely knew what to say. On one side stood my master, to whom I +really owed so much—on the other his friend, who offered me a promotion, +which I felt, on many accounts, was most attractive. "I should have no +objection," I replied, "but great pleasure in serving Mr. Crobble, +sir—but—I have received so many favours from you, that I'm afraid I might +seem ungrateful." + +<p>The good-natured Mr. Wallis happily stepped in at this moment to my +relief. + +<p>"Nonsense," replied Mr. Timmis; "the stock is delivered to the highest +bidder; here Crobble backs eighteen shillings a week against my +half-a-crown-take him." + +<p>I still felt some hesitation, although it was evident, from his +expression, that Mr. Timmis valued the servant much less than the servant +valued the master. + +<p>"Only look here, Wally," cried he; "here stands Andrew, like an ass +between two bundles of hay." + +<p>"Rather like a bundle of hay between two asses, I think," replied Mr. +Wallis; and good-naturedly tapping me on the shoulder, he continued—"accept +Mr. Crobble's offer, Master Andrew: you're much too good for +Timmis—he can soon get a grubby half-crown boy—but you may wait a long +time for such an eligible offer." + +<p>"Eighteen shillings a week," said Mr. Crobble; who, I must confess, +without any particular stretch of self-esteem, appeared anxious to engage +me—, "but I shall want security." + +<p>That word "security" fell like an avalanche on my mounting spirit, and +cast me headlong down the imaginary ascent my busy thoughts had climbed +to! + +<p>"Five hundred pounds," continued Mr. Crobble; "d'ye think—have you +any friends?" + +<p>"None, sir; my father is a poor man, and quite unable." I could +scarcely speak—like the driver of the one-horse chaise, I could neither +advance nor recede. + +<p>"The father," said Mr. Timmis, "is only a poor shoe-maker—a good +fellow tho'—an excellent fit!" + +<p>"You mean to say," cried Mr. Wallis, "it were bootless to seek +security of the shoe-maker." + +<p>A laugh ensued; and, notwithstanding my agitated feelings, I could not +forbear being tickled by Mr. Wallis's humour, and joining in the +merriment. + +<p>This sally gave a most favourable turn to the discussion. "Come," +said Mr. Wallis, "I'll stand two hundred and fifty—and you, Timmis, must +go the other." + +<p>"No; d___ me, he may bolt with the cash-box, and let me in, perhaps," +exclaimed Mr. Timmis. I burst into tears; I felt, that from my long and +faithful services, I deserved a better opinion—although I had no right +to expect so great a favour. + +<p>Rude as he was, he felt some compunction at having wounded my +feelings; and swore a round oath that he was only joking, and I was a +fool. "Did I think, for a moment, that Wally should get the start of +him; no—I was an honest chap, and he'd put his fist to double the amount +to serve me;" and then bade me "sit to the books," and make all square +before I cut my stick: and thus happily concluded this most momentous +change in my circumstances. + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XV.—An Old Acquaintance.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass says 'very +wet;'—I can't bear it—I can't—and I won't."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins15"></a><img alt="Mullins15.jpg (90K)" src="images/Mullins15.jpg" height="999" width="648"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +How impatiently did I count the minutes 'till the office was closed, for +I longed to communicate the glad tidings of my good fortune to my worthy +father. The old man wept with joy at the prospect, and assisted me in +rearing those beautiful fabrics termed castles in the air. + +<p>His own trade, by the recommendation of the rough, ill-mannered, but +good-natured Mr. Timmis, had wonderfully increased; and, by making some +temporary sacrifices, he was enabled to give me an appearance more +suitable to the new position in which I was so unexpectedly placed. In a +narrow alley, on the south side of the Royal Exchange, on the +ground-floor, I found the counting-house of Mr. Crobble. Under his directions, +I quickly made myself master of the details of the business. Alas! it +was but the slender fragment of a once flourishing mercantile house, of +which time had gradually lopped off the correspondents, whilst his own +inertness had not supplied the deficiency by a new connexion; for his +father had left him such an ample fortune, that he was almost careless of +the pursuit, although he could not make up his mind, as he said, to +abandon the "old shop," where his present independence had been +accumulated. I consequently found plenty of leisure, uninterrupted by +the continual hurry and bustle of a broker's office, to pursue my +favourite studies, and went on, not only to the entire satisfaction of +Mr. Crobble, but to my own, and really began to find myself a man of some +importance. + +<p>In the course of business, I one day fell in with an old acquaintance. + +<p>"A parcel for Cornelius Crobble, Esq.," said a little porter, of that +peculiar stamp which is seen hanging about coach-offices—"Two +and-sixpence." + +<p>I looked at the direction, and drew out the "petty cash" to defray the +demand; when, then, first looking at the man, I thought I recognised his +features. + +<p>"What!" cried I, "Isn't your name—" + +<p>"Matthew," answered he quickly. + +<p>"Matthew!—why, don't you know me?" + +<p>"No, sir," replied he, staring vacantly at me. + +<p>"Indeed!—Have I so outgrown all knowledge? Don't you recollect +Andrew Mullins?" + +<p>"Good heavins!" exclaimed he, with his well-remembered nasal twang; +"are you—" + +<p>"Yes." + +<p>"Well, I declare now you've growed into a gentleman. I should'nt—I +really should'nt—" He did not say what he really "should not"—but +extended his hand.—"Hope you ain't too proud to shake hands with an old +friend?" + +<p>I shook him heartily by the hand, and made some enquiries touching his +history. + +<p>Poor Matthew seated himself with all the ease imaginable, and laid his +knot beside him, and began, after the manner of his favourite heroes, to +"unbosom himself." + +<p>"You've a father," said he; "but I'm a horphan, without father nor +mother—a houtcast!"—and he sunk his head upon his bosom; and I observed +that his scrubby crop was already becoming thin and bald. + +<p>"Since I left the place in the 'lane,' I've +bin a-going—down—down"—and he nearly touched the floor with his hand. "That gal, Mary, was the +ruin of me—I shall never forget her.—My hopes is sunk, like the sun in +the ocean, never to rise agin!" I was rather amused by this romantic, +though incorrect, figure; but I let him proceed: "I've got several +places, but lost 'em all. I think there's a spell upon me; and who can +struggle against his fate?" + +<p>I tried to console him, and found, upon a further confession, that he +had flown to spirits "now and then," to blunt the sharp tooth of mental +misery. + +<p>Here, then, was the chief cause of his want of success, which he +blindly attributed to fate—the common failing of all weak minds. For my +part, notwithstanding the imperial authority of the great Napoleon +himself, I have no faith in Fate, believing that the effect, whether good +or bad, may invariably be traced to some cause in the conduct of the +individual, as certainly as the loss of a man, in a game of draughts, is +the consequence of a "wrong move" by the player!—And poor Matthew's +accusation of Fate put me in mind of the school-boy, who, during a wet +vacation, rushed vindictively at the barometer, and struck it in the +face, exclaiming—"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass +says 'very wet;'—I can't bear it—I can't—and I won't." + +<p>I did all in my power to comfort the little porter, exhorting him to +diligence and sobriety. + +<p>"You were always a kind friend," said he, pathetically; "and +perhaps—perhaps you will give me something to drink your health, for +old-acquaintance sake." This unexpected turn compelled me to laughter. I +gave him sixpence. + +<p>Alas! Matthew, I found, was but a piece of coarse gingerbread, tricked +out with the Dutch metal of false sentiment. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XVI.—The Loss of a Friend.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the hair of 'All round my hat I +vears a green villow?'"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins16"></a><img alt="Mullins16.jpg (62K)" src="images/Mullins16.jpg" height="989" width="653"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +I WAS startled by the batho-romantic sentiment of Matthew, somewhat in +the same manner as the young lady at the bookseller's, when she was +accosted by a musical dustman, with—"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have +the hair of 'All round my hat I vears a green villow?'" + +<p>But, however ridiculous they may appear, such incongruous characters +are by no means caricatures—nay, are "as plentiful as blackberries," +especially in the lower grades of society. + +<p>I was indulging in a reverie of this sort, when Monsieur Dubois, my +kind and gentlemanly tutor, abruptly entered the office. I felt proud in +having obtained his friendship—for he was to me a mine of wealth, and +appeared master of every subject upon which my curiosity prompted me to +inquire, whilst the worthy Frenchman was so flattered by my sincere +respect, that he took a delight in imparting his knowledge to so willing +and diligent a scholar. + +<p>Mr. Crobble had promised that I should continue my studies, being much +pleased with the proof I had been fortunate enough to give him of my +progress, generously offering to defray the charges of tuition; and I +found in my new place, even more time than when in the employ of Mr. +Timmis: for, indeed, half-a-clerk would have been sufficient to have +conducted the whole business. + +<p>I was no less surprised at the unusual abruptness of approach, than at +the extraordinary excitement apparent in the manner of Monsieur Dubois; +for he always boasted of his coolness and philosophy under all +circumstances. + +<p>"Peace, peace!—'mon cher ami'—peace is proclaim"—cried he, raising +his hat and his eyes to the dingy ceiling of our office—"Grace a +Dieu!—le tyran Napoleon—le charlatan est renverse de son piedestal—oui, mon +eleve—I vill see, again once more my dear France!" + +<p>He grasped my hand in his ecstasy, and tears filled his eyes to +overflowing. I had heard rumours of the restoration of the Bourbons, but +I had not anticipated the loss of my inestimable tutor. + +<p>I was almost ashamed of my selfishness; but vanquished my feelings so +far as to congratulate him on his prospects, with as much cordiality and +appearance of truth as I could assume. + +<p>"I trust, however," said I, "that restored to your country, and your +friends, you will find that happiness you so much deserve. Go where you +will, you will be followed by the regrets of your English friends." + +<p>"Ah! les Anglais!—'combien'—how motch 'reconnaissance?'" said he, "I +vill have for them! I sall them forget nevare!" + +<p>Mr. Crobble interrupted our colloquy. "All right t'other side the +channel, Mounseer," cried be, elated; "we've licked Boney: he's done up; +stocks are up; and Timmis, (your old master, Andrew) is as busy as a bee—only he's making money instead of honey!" + +<p>He shook hands with Monsieur Dubois; and congratulated him upon the +restoration of Louis the Eighteenth. + +<p>I mentioned to him Monsieur Dubois' intention of proceeding +immediately to France. "He's right," cried he; "let every man stick to +his King and his country; and I say"—he suddenly checked himself, and +beckoning me aside, continued in an under tone—"Andrew, you understand +this Mounseer better than I do; he appears a good fellow in the main: if +he should want a lift, to fit him out for the voyage, or any thing of +that sort, tell him Corny Crobble will lend him a hand, for old +acquaintance sake; I shan't stick at a matter of forty or fifty +pound—you understand—put it to him, as a matter of business; for that'll suit +his proud stomach best, perhaps"—then, turning to Monsieur, he said, +"Excuse whispering before company, Mounseer Dubois. Good morning." + +<p>"Bon jour, Monsieur," replied Dubois, making my obese governor one of +his most graceful bows. + +<p>I was highly gratified at being selected as the medium of this +generous offer; which Monsieur Dubois received without hesitation, as one +who intended to repay it; but, at the same time, with the most grateful +acknowledgments of Mr. Crobble's considerate kindness. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>CHAPTER XVII.—Promotion.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing,"</i> +<p><i>"My rowing!" cried I; "nonsense!—it's because you don't steer right.</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Mullins17"></a><img alt="Mullins17.jpg (78K)" src="images/Mullins17.jpg" height="916" width="652"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +"I REMEMBER, when I was a young man, I once took a fancy to rowing," said +Mr. Crobble one day to me. "I wasn't then quite so round as I am at +present. Cousin Tom and I hired a wherry, but somehow we found we didn't +make much way. Tom was steering, and I took the sculls, sitting my back +to him like a gaby!" + +<p>"'I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing,' said Tom. + +<p>"'My rowing!' cried I; 'nonsense!—it's because you don't steer right.' +Well, at last a waterman came alongside, and grinning (the fellow +couldn't help it) good-naturedly, pointed out the cause of our dilemma; +at which we both laughed heartily. Ever since that time I've been of +opinion, that unless people, 'who row in the same boat,' understand each +other, they'll never get along—" + +<p>I smiled at this lengthy prologue, not conceiving to what it could +possibly lead. + +<p>"Now, Mr. Andrew," resumed he, "I mean to be very industrious, and +devote a whole day to giving you an insight into the business; after +which I expect you'll pull away, while I only steer, which will suit me +to a T—, you understand." + +<p>"Exactly, sir," I replied; and, in consequence, he really set about +the task; and I soon acquired sufficient knowledge in the business, as +not only to row in the same boat with him, but, what was still more +agreeable to my patron's indolence, to manage the "craft" without his +assistance. + +<p>Six months after the departure of Monsieur Dubois, he sent a +remittance, with interest on the amount, advanced by Mr. Crobble, with a +long epistle to me, stating, that he had entered into partnership with +his elder brother, and commenced the business of a banker, under the firm +of "Dubois Freres," at the same time informing me that they were already +doing a large stroke of business, and wanted an agent in London, +requesting me to inform him if it would be agreeable to Mr. Crobble for +them to draw upon his respectable house. + +<p>I saw at once the advantages of this correspondence, and so warmly +solicited Mr. Crobble to accede, that he at last consented, provided I +undertook the whole management of the affair. + +<p>The English were now daily flocking to Paris, and the money required +for their lavish expenditure in the gay capital of France compelled their +application to the bankers. + +<p>Messrs. Dubois Freres had their share of this lucrative business, and, +as their agents in London, we necessarily became participators in their +large transactions. + +<p>In three months these operations had increased so enormously, and the +profits were so considerable, that Mr. Crobble not only advanced my +salary, but consented to engage the assistance of two junior clerks. I +was now a man of some consideration. I was the senior clerk of the +establishment, although the youngest of the three. + +<p>In two years I found myself at the head of six clerks, and had as much +business as I could possibly manage. + +<p>My star was in the ascendant. I had not only more money than I +required for my expenses, but was enabled to maintain my poor old father, +who daily became more and more infirm. + +<p>I rented a small cottage at the rural village of Hackney, but my +labour occupied me early and late, and it was only on a Sunday I could +really enjoy my home. + +<p>Three years after quitting the office of Mr. Timmis, I had the +inexpressible pleasure of employing him to purchase stock for his errand +boy! I was proud as a king. + +<p>"I said that boy would turn out well," said the good-natured Mr. +Wallis; "he always had a good principle." + +<p>"And now bids fair," said Mr. Timmis, "to have both principal and +interest." + +<p>Mr. Crobble having lately had a large property left him in +Hertfordshire, rarely came to the office above once a-quarter, to settle +accounts. + +<p>"A good dividend—a very good dividend!" said he, upon receipt of the +last quarter's profits. "But, Mr. Mullins, I cannot forget that this +business is your child." + +<p>"And I'm happy to say a thriving one," I replied. + +<p>"Are you satisfied—perfectly satisfied?" demanded he. + +<p>"Beyond my wishes, sir." + +<p>"I am not," said he shortly. + +<p>"No, sir?" exclaimed I, with surprise. + +<p>"No, Sir!" repeated he. "Those who sow should reap. I've no +children—I'm an idle fellow—a drone, sir—and won't consent to consume +all the honey. Don't speak, sir—read that!" and he pulled a parchment +from his pocket. + +<p>It was a deed of partnership between Cornelius Crobble, of Lodge, +Hertfordshire, Esquire, and the poor cobbler's son, + <center><p>ANDREW MULLINS.</center> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A RIGMAROLE.—PART I.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"De omnibus rebus."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Rigmarole1"></a><img alt="Rigmarole1.jpg (70K)" src="images/Rigmarole1.jpg" height="896" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>THE evening is calm—the sun has just sunk below the tiles of the +house, which serenely bounds the view from the quiet attic where I wield +the anserine plume for the delectation of the pensive public—all nature, +etc.—the sky is deep blue, tinged with mellowest red, like a learned +lady delicately rouged, and ready for a literary soiree—the sweet-voiced +pot-boy has commenced his rounds with "early beer," and with leathern +lungs, and a sovereign contempt for the enactments of the new +police-act—greasy varlets proclaim to the hungry neighbourhood—"Baked sheeps' +heads, hot!"—O! savoury morsel!—May no legislative measure ever silence +this peripatetic purveyor to the poor! or prevent his calling—may the +tag-rag and bob-tail never reject a sheep's head! + +<p>"I never sees a sheep's head, but I thinks on you," said Mrs. +Spriggins, whose physiognomy was as yellow and as wrinkled as a duck's +foot. Spriggins whipped his horse, for they were driving in a one-horse +chaise, with two boys, and an infant in arms—Spriggins whipped his horse +spitefully, for Mrs. S.'s sarcasm inspired him with a splenetic feeling; +and as he durst not chastise her, the animal received the benefit of her +impetus. Spriggins was a fool by nature, and selfish by disposition. +Mrs. S. was a shrivelled shrew, with a "bit o' money;"—that was the bait +at which he, like a hungry gudgeon, had seized, and he was hooked! The +"spousals" had astonished the vulgar—the little nightingale of +Twickenham would have only smiled; for has he not sweetly sung— + +<center><p> "There swims no goose so grey, but soon or late +<br> She finds some honest gander for her mate;"</center> + +<p>and her union was a verification of this flowing couplet. + +<p>At different times, what different meanings the self-same words +obtain. According to the reading of the new poor-law guardians, "Union," +as far as regards man and wife, is explained "Separation;" or, like a +ship when in distress, the "Union" is reversed! In respect of his union, +Spriggins would have most relished the reading of the former! But there +are paradoxes—a species of verbal puzzle—which, in the course of this +ride, our amiable family of the Spriggins's experienced to their great +discomfort. + +<p>Drawing up a turnpike-gate, Mrs. S. handed a ticket to the +white-aproned official of the trust. + +<p>"You should have gone home the way you came out—that ticket won't do +here," said the man; "so out with your coppers—three-pence." + +<p>"I don't think I've got any half-pence!" said Mr. S., fumbling in his +pennyless pocket. + +<p>"Well, then, I must give you change." + +<p>"But I'm afraid I hav'nt got any silver," replied Mr. S., with a long +face.—"I say, mister, cou'dn't you trust me?—I'd be wery sure to bring +it to you." + +<p>But the man only winked, and, significantly pointing the thumb of his +left hand over his sinister shoulder, backed the horse. + +<p>"Vell, I'm blessed," exclaimed Mr. S.—and so he was—with a scolding +wife and a squalling infant; "and they calls this here a trust, the +fools! and there ain't no trust at all!" + +<p>And the poor animal got another vindictive cut. Oh! Mr. Martin!—thou +friend of quadrupeds!—would that thou had'st been there. "It's all my +eye and Betty Martin!" muttered Mr. S., as he wheeled about the jaded +beast he drove, and retraced the road. + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A RIMAROLE—PART II.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Acti labores sunt jucundi"</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Rigmarole2"></a><img alt="Rigmarole2.jpg (85K)" src="images/Rigmarole2.jpg" height="787" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>THE horse is really a noble animal—I hate all rail-roads, for putting +his nose out of joint—puffing, blowing, smoking, jotting—always going +in a straight line: if this mania should continue, we shall soon have the +whole island ruled over like a copy-book—nothing but straight lines—and +sloping lines through every county in the kingdom! + +<p>Give me the green lanes and hills, when I'm inclined to diverge; and +the smooth turnpike roads, when disposed to "go a-head."—"I can't bear a +horse," cries Numps: now this feeling is not at all reciprocal, for every +horse can bear a man. "I'm off to the Isle of Wight," says Numps: "Then +you're going to Ryde at last," quoth I, "notwithstanding your hostility +to horse-flesh." "Wrong!" replies he, "I'm going to Cowes." "Then +you're merely a mills-and-water traveller, Numps!" The ninny! he does +not know the delight of a canter in the green fields—except, indeed, the +said canter be of the genus-homo, and a field preacher! + +<p>My friend Rory's the boy for a horse; he and his bit o' blood are +notorious at all the meetings. In fact I never saw him out of the +saddle: he is a perfect living specimen of the fabled Centaur—full of +anecdotes of fox-chases, and steeple-chases; he amuses me exceedingly. I +last encountered him in a green lane near Hornsey, mounted on a +roadster—his "bit o' blood" had been sent forward, and he was leisurely making +his way to the appointed spot. + +<p>"I was in Buckinghamshire last week," said he; "a fine turn out—such +a field! I got an infernal topper tho'—smashed my best tile; tell you +how it was. There was a high paling—put Spitfire to it, and she took it +in fine style; but, as luck would have it, the gnarled arm of an old tree +came whop against my head, and bonneted me completely! Thought I was +brained—but we did it cleverly however—although, if ever I made a leap +in the dark, that was one. I was at fault for a minute—but Spitfire was +all alive, and had it all her own way: with some difficulty I got my nob +out of the beaver-trap, and was in at the death!" + +<p>I laughed heartily at his awkward dilemma, and wishing him plenty of +sport, we parted. + +<p>Poor Rory! he has suffered many a blow and many a fall in his time; +but he is still indefatigable in the pursuit of his favourite pastime—so +true is it—that + + <center><p>"The pleasure we delight in physic's pain;"</center> + +<p>his days pass lightly, and all his years are leap years! + +<p>He has lately inherited a considerable property, accumulated by a +miserly uncle, and has most appropriately purchased an estate in one of +the Ridings of Yorkshire! + +<p>With all his love for field-sports, however, he is no better "the +better," says he, "is often the worse; and I've no notion of losing my +acres in gambling; besides, my chief aim being to be considered a good +horseman, I should be a consummate fool, if, by my own folly, I lost my +seat!" + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>A RIGMAROLE—PART III.</h2></center> +<br><br> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p><i>"Oderunt hilarem tristes."</i> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<br><br> + +<center><a name="Rigmarole3"></a><img alt="Rigmarole3.jpg (87K)" src="images/Rigmarole3.jpg" height="921" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +THE sad only hate a joke. Now, my friend Rory is in no sense a sad fellow, +and he loves a joke exceedingly. His anecdotes of the +turf are all racy; nor do those of the field less deserve the meed of +praise! Lord F____ was a dandy sportsman, and the butt of the regulars. +He was described by Rory as a "walkingstick"—slender, but very +"knobby"—with a pair of mustaches and an eye-glass. Having lost the scent, he +rode one day slick into a gardener's ground, when his prad rammed his +hind-legs into a brace of hand-glasses, and his fore-legs into a +tulip-bed. The horticulturist and the haughty aristocrat—how different were +their feelings—the cucumber coolness of the 'nil admirari' of the one +was ludicrously contrasted with the indignation of the astonished +cultivator of the soil. "Have you seen the hounds this way?" demanded +Lord F____, deliberately viewing him through his glass. + +<p>"Hounds!" bitterly repeated the gardener, clenching his fist. "Dogs, +I mean," continued Lord F____; "you know what a pack of hounds are—don't +you?" + +<p>"I know what a puppy is," retorted the man; "and if so be you don't +budge, I'll spile your sport. But, first and foremost, you must lug out +for the damage you have done—you're a trespasser." + +<p>"I'm a sportsman, fellow—what d'ye mean?" + +<p>"Then sport the blunt," replied the gardener; and, closing his gates, +took Lord F____ prisoner: nor did he set him free till he had reimbursed +him for the mischief he had done. + +<p>This was just; and however illegal were the means, I applauded them +for the end. + +<p>Our friend B___d, that incorrigible punster, said, "that his horse had +put his foot in—and he had paid his footing," + +<p>B___d, by the bye, is a nonpareil; whether horses, guns, or dogs, he +is always "at home:" and even in yachting, (as he truly boasts) he is +never "at sea." Riding with him one day in an omnibus, I praised the +convenience of the vehicle; "An excellent vehicle," said he, "for +punning;"—which he presently proved, for a dowager having flopped into +one of the seats, declared that she "never rid vithout fear in any of +them omnibus things." + +<p>"What is she talking about?" said I. + +<p>"De omnibus rebus," replied he,—"truly she talks like the first lady +of the land; but, as far as I can see, she possesses neither the carriage +nor the manners!" + +<p>"Can you read the motto on the Conductor's button?" I demanded. "No;" +he replied, "but I think nothing would be more appropriate to his calling +than the monkish phrase—'pro omnibus curo!'" + +<p>At this juncture a jolt, followed by a crash, announced that we had +lost a wheel. The Dowager shrieked. "We shall all be killed," cried +she; "On'y to think of meeting vun's death in a common omnibus!" + +<p>"Mors communis omnibus!" whispered B___d, and—— + +<p>I had written thus far, when spit—spit—splutter—plop!—my end of +candle slipped into the blacking bottle in which it was "sustained," and +I was left to admire—the stars of night, and to observe that "Charles's +wain was over the chimney;" so I threw down my pen—and, as the house was +a-bed—and I am naturally of a "retiring" disposition, I sought my +pallet—dreaming of literary fame!—although, in the matter of what might +be in store for me, I was completely in the dark! + +<p> + + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> + +<center><h2>AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE.</h2></center> +<br><br> + + +<center><a name="Intercepted Letter1"></a><img alt="Intercepted Letter1.jpg (61K)" src="images/Intercepted%20Letter1.jpg" height="911" width="649"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + + + <center><p>eppin-toosday</center> + +<p>my dear sam + + +<p>i've rote this ere for to let you no i'm in jolly good health and +harty as a brick—and hope my tulip as your as vell——read this to sal +who can't do the same herself seeing as her edication aintt bin in that +line——give her my love and tell her to take care o' the kids.——i've +got a silk vipe for sal, tell her; and suffing for 'em all, for i've made +a xlent spec o' the woy'ge and bagg'd some tin too i can tell you; and +vont ve have a blow out ven i cums amung you——napps——that's the +ass——is particklar vell and as dun his dooty like a riq'lar flint—— + +<p>i rode too races ar' needn't say as i vun em for napps is a +houtanhouter an no mistake! + +<p>lork! didn't i make the natifs stare! and a gintlum as vos by, +vanted to oan 'im an oferd any blunt for im but walker! says i there +aint sick a ass as this 'ere hanimal in the hole country——besides he's +like as vun o' me oan famly, for i've brot im up in a manner from the +time he vos a babby!——he's up to a move or too and knows my voice jist +for all the world like a Chrissen. + +<p>Red-nose Bill vot had a nook 'em down here brings this and he'll tell +you all about the noose——i shall foller in about, a veek or so——tell +sal to keep up her sperrits and not to lush vith Bet——i dont like that +ere ooman at all——a idle wagabone as is going to the Union like +vinkin——i'm no temperens cove meself as you nose, sam, but enufs enuf and as +good as a feast. + +<p>The gintry as taken hervite a likin to Napps and me——they looks upon +im as hervite a projidy——for he's licked all the donkies as run agin +im——the vimmen too——(you no my insinnivating vay, sam,) and nobody +nose better than me how to git the right sow by the ear——no sooner do i +see 'em a comin vith their kids, than i slips of and doffs my tile, an i +says, says i——do let the yung jentlum have a cast——and then the +little in coorse begins a plegyin the old 'uns, and——so the jobs done! + +<p>——vot's to pay, my good man? says she + +<p>——oh——nothink, marm, says i, as modest as a turnip +new-peeld——napps is a rig'lar racer——i dont let im hout but i'm so fond o' +children! + +<p>——this here Yummeree doos the bisnis prime, for the vimmen comes +over the jentlum and a pus is made up for anuther race——and in coorse i +pockits the Bibs——cos vy?——napps is nothink but a good 'un. + +<p>'tother day hearin as there vos an hunt in the naborwood:——napps, +says i-a——speakin to my ass——napps ve'll jist go and look at 'em—— + +<p>——vell ve hadnt got no more nor a mile wen i comes slap alongside of +a starch-up chap upatop of raythur a good lookin' oss.——but my i! +vornt there bellows to mend; and he made no more vay nor a duck in a +gutter.——i says, sir, says i, dye think ve shall be in time for the +hunt? +but he never turns is hed but sets bolt uprite as stiff as pitch——jist +for all the world as if his mother had vashed im in starch. + +<p>——i twigs his lean in a jiffy——so i says says i "oh-you needn't be +so shy i rides my own hannimal,"—— + +<p>——vich i takes it vos more nor he co'd say, for his vas nothin more +nor a borrod'un and if i dont mistake he vos a vitechapler——i think ive +seed im a sarvin out svipes and blue ruin at the gin-spinners corner o' +summerset street or petticut lane——dunno witch. + +<p>——sam, i hates pride so i cuts his cumpny——i says says i——napps +it dont fit you aint a nunter you're o'ny a racer and that chaps afeard +his prad vill be spiled a keeping conapny with a ass——leastways i'm o' +the same opinyon in that respec consarning meself and——so i shall +mizzle. + +<p>——a true gintlum as is a gintlum, sam is as difrent to these here +stuck-up fellers az a sovrin is to a coronashun copper vot's on'y gilt. + +<p>vell lie turns hof over the left and vips up his animal tryin to get +up a trot——bobbin up and down in his sturrups and bumpin hisself to +make a show——all flummery!——he takes the middel o' the field to +hisself, and i cox my i for a houtlet and spi's a gait——that's the +ticket! says i; so liting the 'bacca and blowin a cloud I trots along, +and had jist cum to the gait ven turnin' round to look for the +gin-spinner, blow me! sam, if i didn't see the cove again heels over head +over an edge——like a tumler at bartlmy fare;——vile his preshus +hannimal vas a takin it cooly in the meddo! + + + +<br><br><br><br> +<center><a name="Intercepted Letter2"></a><img alt="Intercepted Letter2.jpg (76K)" src="images/Intercepted%20Letter2.jpg" height="950" width="650"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"vat a rum chap"—says i, a larfin reddy to bust——"vat a rum chap +to go over the 'edge that vay! ven here's a riglar gait to ride +through!" + +<p>——and so, i druv on, but somehow, sam, i coudn't help a thinkin' as +praps the waggerbun lead broke his nek——stif as it vas! and so i said +to napps——"napps,"——says i——"lets go and look arter the warmint +for charity's-sake" + +<p>——napps vots as good-natur'd a ass as his master, didn't make no +obstacle and so ve vent—- + +<p>——my i!——sam, i'd a stood a Kervorten and three outs ad you a bin +there!——there vas my jentlum up to his nek in a duckpond——lookin' as +miserribble as a stray o' mutton in a batter puddin' + +<p>"halp! halp!" says he, a spittin' the green veeds out of his +mouth——"halp me, faller, and i'll stand a bob" or summat to that efeck. + +<p>——but i couldn't hold out my fin to him for larfin——and napps +begun a brayin at sich a rate——vich struck me as if he vas a larfin +too, and made me larf wusser than ever—— + +<p>——vell, at last, i contrivis to lug him out, and a preshus figger he +cut to be sure——he had kervite a new sute o' black mud, vich didn't +smell particlar sveet i can tell you. + +<p>——"ain't hurt yoursef?" says i, "have you?" + +<p>——"no"——says he——"but i'm dem wet and utterably spiled"——or +vords like that for he chewd'em so fine i couldn't rightly hit 'em. + +<p>——ater i'd scraped him a little desent, and he'd tip'd a hog——vich +vas rayther hansum——i ax'd him vere he'd left his tile? + +<p>"tile?"——says he——a yogglin his i's and openin' his jaws like a +dyin' oyster "yes your castor"——says i, "your beaver your hat." + +<p>"Oh!"——says he, p'inting dismal to the pond——"gone to the devil +d___ me!"——so vith that he takes out a red and yuller vipe, and ties it +about his hed, lookin' for all the vorld like a apple-ooman. + +<p>——as he had come down hansum i in coorse ofer'd to ketch his prad +vich va'n't much difficulty——and up he jumps and lepped with a squosh +into the saddle——and rid of vithout as much as sayin' by your leave +good luck to you or anythink else—— + +<p>—-vell, this here vos the end and upshot o' that day's fun for I vos +too late for the start by ten minnits——i saw 'em goin' it at a distance +so i takes a sight!——but i had too much valley for napes to put im to +it so as to get up vith 'em——or he might a done it praps!—- + +<p>——i've lived like a fightin cock and am as fatt as butter——but the +race is goin' to begin in a hour and i must go and ketch napps who's a +grazin on the commun and looks oncommun vell——so no more at present +from, + +<center><p> Yours, my prime 'un, + +<p> dick stammer.</center> + + +<br><br> + + + + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + + <a href="p4.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="5650-h.htm">Main Index</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br> +<center><a name="Inside Papers"></a><img alt="Inside Papers.jpg (187K)" src="images/Inside%20Papers.jpg" height="1119" width="646"> +</center> +<br><br> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/sey6w10h.zip b/old/sey6w10h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1feb51f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/sey6w10h.zip |
