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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> + + |