Update for 77028HEADmain

10 files changed, 8500 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/77028-0.txt b/77028-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5f5a7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3112 @@
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77028 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+  UNCLE TWEAZY
+
+  AND HIS
+
+  QUIZZICAL NEIGHBOURS.
+
+
+
+
+Plummer and Brewis, Printers, Love-lane, Eastcheap.
+
+
+
+
+  UNCLE TWEAZY
+
+  AND HIS
+
+  QUIZZICAL NEIGHBOURS:
+
+  _A COMI-SATIRIC NOVEL_.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  IN THREE VOLUMES.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  BY
+
+  _The Author of the_ “_OBSERVANT PEDESTRIAN_,”
+  &c. &c. &c.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  “Holds to the world a picture of itself,
+  “And raises sly the fair impartial laugh.”
+
+  _Thomson’s Winter._
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  VOL. II.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  _LONDON_:
+  PRINTED FOR W. SIMPKIN AND R. MARSHALL,
+  STATIONERS’-COURT, LUDGATE-STREET.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  1816.
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE TWEAZY
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. I.
+
+
+The next morning, as soon as we had finished breakfast, my uncle
+proposed a visit to the Rectory, to take a peep at the paragon Doctor
+Tonic was so lavish in praise of, and to pass our respective judgment
+on his perspicuity.
+
+It was a delightful walk to the Rectory, which stood most romantically
+at the end of a beautiful shrubbery, shaded by the light foilage of a
+double row of limes; the mansion was a low white building, luxuriantly
+encircled by honeysuckles and roses, subjoined to a highly cultivated
+vine, whose abundant clusters hung in rich purple fringe against the
+Gothic windows, whose octagon panes gave it the appearance of some
+venerable structure, while the beautiful surrounding prospect of richly
+fertilized and diversified wood and water rendered it a little Elysian.
+
+As we approached, we distinctly perceived the sylph-like form of a
+female figure, who, with a basket of roses in one hand, was reclining
+on the arm of the venerable pastor, exactly bringing to my remembrance
+the _entree_ of Sterne and Maria to Moulines.
+
+Dr. Markwell perceiving our approach, politely advanced to open the
+gate and welcomed us in.
+
+“Miss Fitzclarence,” said he, introducing the lady, who gracefully
+curtsied, but the obtruding shade of a straw hat totally precluded my
+curiosity, and compelled me to pass on the other side and offer my
+services to carry the basket--but _such roses_ as struck my view _out_
+of the basket, might have dazzled the eye of a basilisk; for in the
+countenance of the lovely object who stood by my side, I beheld not
+only the beautiful girl described by Dr. Tonic, but the chef-d’ouvre of
+nature.
+
+My uncle, who had merely stolen a sidelong glance, preceded us into
+the house, whither we immediately followed; but never shall I forget
+his expressive countenance as Miss Fitzclarence took her seat on an
+opposite chair, his eyes were rivetted on her features, and he seemed
+lost in astonishment, till roused by Dr. Markwell’s observing what a
+charming proficient Miss Fitzclarence was on the harp.
+
+“Rosa, if you please, my dear Sir,” replied the blooming angel; “by
+that familiar title I shall feel myself completely at home.”
+
+“Well, then, my charming, my amiable Rosa,” continued the Rector
+(charmed with her affability) “will you treat my friends with the
+dulcet sonnet you played this morning?”
+
+Rosa caught up her harp, and, like a second Cecilia, all was silent
+rapture; but, when her heavenly voice subjoined, my uncle melted into
+tears, exclaiming, “I can’t bear it, sweet young lady: in compassion to
+an old man’s feelings, pause one moment.”
+
+The beauteous minstrel ceased, and the Rector, unperceived by my uncle,
+gave her a significant wink not to continue the song; whilst I, lost
+in amazement at my uncle’s conduct, replaced the harp in silence, and
+various topics of conversation ensued; yet still his scrutinizing eye
+was fixed on Rosa till the moment of our departure, when pressing her
+beautiful hand respectfully to his lip, “young lady,” said he, “this
+is a liberty I have not assumed these thirty years--accept it as the
+sacred incense due _only_ to yourself.”
+
+“Sir, sir,” said I. “am I unpriviledged to follow your example? surely
+your gallantry ought not to eclipse mine, and, with Miss Fitzclarence’s
+leave, thus I avail myself.”
+
+One fervent kiss I pressed upon that hand, which, in the purest marble,
+chisselled by a Tumerelli, never in symmetry was equalled; ask not,
+then, gentle reader, when St. Albans left the Rectory, if he was
+_victor_--No! he was the _captive_ of love, indissolubly bound in the
+chains of Rosa Fitzclarence.
+
+She escorted us to the gate, over which she reclined till we were out
+of sight; but how many times my head mechanically turned to catch a
+last glimpse, I won’t say.
+
+“Victor!” cried my uncle, “where is your heart? the moment of trial is
+arrived: be candid, be noble, where is your heart?”
+
+“Gone!” exclaimed I, “irrecoverably, for ever; I adore Miss
+Fitzclarence; and, if there is perfection in woman, ’tis combined in
+her, for I never saw her equal.”
+
+My uncle’s eye glanced fire, and he quickly replied, “But I have seen
+her _model_, her most _perfect image_, her every _feature_, and her
+_voice_--Oh, Victor, ’twas daggers to my soul.”
+
+“As how, dear Sir?” I asked with much impatience.
+
+“You shall know that to-night; at present I must drop a subject I feel
+myself incapable to enlarge upon.”
+
+We now strolled home, arm-in-arm. “You have done for me, Sir,” said I,
+“completely.”
+
+“And, indeed, Victor, I’ve done for myself,” replied he, as we ascended
+the hall steps, when my uncle retired to his study, as was his constant
+custom when his mind was ruffled or oppressed, and I threw my listless
+form upon the sofa in all the tortures of love, hope, and despair, and
+in this commixed rumination I lay, till roused by Geoffry coming in to
+lay the cloth.
+
+“Lack-a-daisey, Sir,” cried the garulous old fellow, “have you and
+master called at the Rectory this morning? and did you see Miss
+Fitzclarence? of all God’s creatures she’s the _beautifulest_. I’ve
+seen a many fine girls in my days, but nobody never see nothing like
+she I’ll swear; I happened this morning to go up with a drop of cream,
+one of their _keows_ being dry, and who should I pop upon but an angel,
+as I thought, for I declare I stood _putrified_ and _stagnated_ at her
+uncommon beauty: I dare say she’s got a _thousand sweethearts_.”
+
+Had Geoffry stuck the carving knife he was so dexterously handling into
+the centre of my heart, I could not have leaped more precipitately from
+my recumbent posture.
+
+“Laws, Sir, how you made I jump,” exclaimed he; “I hope you beant
+affronted at my boldness in axing you such a question?”
+
+“Not at all, good fellow,” said I, recovering myself from that
+lacerating word _sweetheart_.
+
+“But don’t you think her handsome, Sir?” enquired Geoffry.
+
+“Yes, very handsome,” replied I cautiously.
+
+“She _clipses_ all the ladies in the _willage_, however,” said Geoffry,
+“and if I was a rich handsome young gentleman, I know I should go mad
+after her.”
+
+At this moment my uncle opened the door, and his presence always being
+the signal of taciturnity to Geoffry, he withdrew to serve up dinner;
+doing which, little passed on either side; and, when the wine was
+placed on the table by the side of a plate of beautiful peaches, my
+uncle, examining them severally, declared there was not one with the
+cheek of a Rosa; he then drew his chair close to mine, and, laying his
+hand on my arm, to enforce attention, thus addressed me:--
+
+“Victor, my dear, boy, I am in few words going to explain the mystery
+of my conduct this morning at the Rectory, which was to you, of course,
+enigmatical; but the moment my eye fixed on Rosa Fitzclarence, I beheld
+the _polygraph_ of Cecilia Delmond----”
+
+I started.
+
+“Nay, start not,” continued my uncle, “my assertion is fact; for were
+it even possible she was her _own child_, so strong a resemblance could
+scarcely exist; I surely, then, need not repeat what sort of woman
+she was whom I so fervently adored, for you have already her portrait
+subjoined to every quality the human heart was capable of possessing;
+we met by accident at an assembly, and one hour’s pleasure rendered us
+reciprocally dear to each other. But, alas! the disparity of fortunes
+precluded all hopes of our union, till time or circumstances should
+ameliorate the rigid temper of her father; for she was an only child,
+most duteous and obedient to his stern command; thus situated, our only
+resource of correspondence or intercourse rested entirely on the basis
+of juvenile duplicity, as occasion presented itself; but both young and
+unpractised in the wiles of dissimulation, our bosoms were the mansions
+of love, honour, and fidelity.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. II.
+
+
+At this important moment, in popped our perpetual interrupter, Dr.
+Tonic.
+
+“Psha, d--n it,” said my uncle, as he opened the door.
+
+“How d’ye do, Sir, have you heard of the female levee at the Rectory
+this morning?”
+
+“Not I,” answered my uncle, peevishly, “nor do I want to know any thing
+about it.”
+
+“Oh, but I must tell you,” continued the doctor, “Mrs. Tonic, my
+daughters, the widow Quiz, Mrs. Prolix, Mrs. Fungus, and Mrs. Deposit,
+have all been up in a possee to pay their compliments.”
+
+“And I dare say they passed a great many,” replied my uncle,
+snappingly, the thread of his interesting theme having been so
+unexpectedly broke.
+
+“Why, Mrs. Tonic, and the girls, and Mrs. Prolix, think her very
+handsome.”
+
+“And pray who says otherwise?” interrupted my uncle.
+
+“Why, Mrs. Fungus, and Mrs. Deposit, oppose the pretension.”
+
+“I thought so,” rejoined my uncle; “I wish either of them would tell
+_me_ so, that’s all; I’ll bet her little finger against the sense
+of the whole parish; and, pray, what may their scandalous audacious
+tongues take the liberty of saying.”
+
+“Why, Mrs. Deposit calls her a little milk and water wax doll, who
+strums the harp with just taste enough to please the old Rector.”
+
+“S’death,” exclaimed my uncle, “she’s the female Weippart of the age;
+her skill and taste are exquisite.”
+
+“Well, I don’t know how it was,” continued the Doctor, “but Mrs. Fungus
+could not allow her a single perfection, and declared she was never
+more disappointed; she thought her just fit for the celebrated _heroine
+of a romance_; a little insipid soul, a wild flower of nature, that
+required the hand of _tonish cultivation_ to bring into perfection.”
+
+“And if it flourishes in proportion to the _weeds_ of their own
+_notoriety_, sprung from dunghill consequence, it will soon overspread
+the village, and you may go back and tell them _I_ say so,” said my
+uncle.
+
+“Hey dey,” exclaimed the Doctor, “you’re warm--you’ve seen this little
+paragon, then?”
+
+“Yes, Sir, I am warm, and I have seen more than a paragon,” replied my
+uncle.
+
+“Why, why, you hav’nt fell in love; sure she ee’nt to be Mrs. Tweazy,
+is she?” asked the Doctor, blinking his squiney eye, and bursting into
+a laugh.
+
+“What an old fool you must be,” cried my irritated uncle, “to talk such
+idle jargon; are you going to carry that pretty idea over the village?
+egad you’d better set the cryer to work; do step to Ladies Deposit
+and Fungus, and give them the nut to crack, and I’ll take care of the
+shell, I warrant me.”
+
+The Doctor now began to draw in his horns, observing, he had merely
+repeated what he had heard.
+
+“Then don’t believe it,” continued my uncle, “it’s all lies and envy;
+what the d--l, can’t you analyze woman?”
+
+“No,” said the Doctor, “it is not possible in some cases.”
+
+“I’ll bet a guinea, though I’m no physician,” replied my uncle, “that
+I analyze both Mrs. Fungus and Mrs. Deposit, from the crowns of their
+head to the soles of their feet.”
+
+“You’re a clever man, we all know,” answered the Doctor, “I dare say
+you could analyze the brain, now I should only attempt the corporeal
+system, according to my own _discretional_ powers.”
+
+“You’ll pardon me, Doctor,” resumed my uncle, “when I say that my
+opinion of your _discretion_ does not extend beyond a _dose of
+physic_, and a _game at cribbage_.”
+
+“Hey! what,” cried the Doctor, “you’ve a high opinion of my abilities
+at that rate, Squire; why, now, my son Bob entertains a very great
+opinion of Mrs. Deposit.”
+
+“Like enough,” resumed my uncle, “she may be one of his sort of
+favourites; and I’ll be sworn there is not a man in the parish would
+contend rivalship with him; God help his fancy: his own little wife’s
+worth a hundred such.”
+
+“There are more tempting trees than _one_ in an _orchard_,” said the
+Doctor.
+
+“There are,” reiterated my uncle, “and the finest tree in the Rectory
+orchard is the _new planted nonpariel_.”
+
+“There you go again,” cried the Doctor; “pray, Mr. Victor, what say
+you of the charms of Miss Fitzclarence?”
+
+I replied, “from what little I had seen of the young lady, she appeared
+extremely sensible and agreeable; but, in regard to her musical
+talents, I considered myself quite sufficient judge of the science to
+know that there were few, very few, (if any) private performers, could
+excel her abilities.”
+
+“Indeed!” cried the doctor, “egad, if that’s the case, I must make my
+girls scrape acquaintance, and try what they can do; my Elizetta is
+reckoned a tight hand at the piano, I assure you: there are few girls
+in the village _rattle_ the keys like her: she’s got the knack of it;
+don’t you think so?”
+
+Disgusted with his odious comparison, I merely observed, “the
+instruments were so different, as well as the performance, that I
+could not pass my judgment at present.”
+
+“Well, well,” said my uncle, (willing to abolish the subject, lest the
+crafty old fox should extract my sentiments, as he did his chemicals)
+“now, pray let this parley cease, for as we don’t agree, we’ll adjourn
+the subject, because I have some agricultural business demands
+attention this morning; and, therefore, my moments are too precious to
+waste in nonsense, and I’m sure many of your patients, Doctor, must be
+anxiously waiting for your visits, and so for the present you’ll excuse
+me.”
+
+“Certainly, certainly,” hemm’d the Doctor, who, having no alternative
+but to take his departure, brushed off, half grumpy, leaving my uncle
+to laugh in his sleeve at his _agricultural fudge_, by which means
+he had completely got rid of the Doctor; and thus again re-seating
+ourselves, he continued the sequel of his story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. III.
+
+
+“Three months had flown on airy wing, and neither our interviews, or
+correspondence, had been discovered, which, through the medium of a
+bosom friend, we had mutually enjoyed; when, one morning, by mere
+chance, in conversation with the father of Cecilia, he learnt, that he
+meant to take immediately his passage in the first ship that sailed for
+----, in Italy, where, having an extensive magazine that required his
+inspection, he had apprised his partner of his intention, and also
+that he meant to bring over his daughter with him as a companion to
+himself, and to improve her for one twelve-months in the language and
+musical science of that inimitable country.
+
+“This intelligence, as my friend well knew, was instant annihilation to
+our hopes and happiness, to lose her beloved society for so tedious a
+period was distraction; and, when I reflected on the probability of an
+Italian lover superceding my humble pretension, the world had no longer
+any charms for me; this, Victor, I mused to madness, for I, like you,
+was _young_, was _gay_, was _happy_; the impregnate cloud of sorrow had
+never veiled the sunshine of my heart, and I dreamed but of bliss, nor
+knew it was a vision, till I grasped the airy shade that flitted from
+my touch.
+
+“I sought Cecilia--we met: her beauteous eyes, suffused in sparkling
+tears, proclaimed the fact; mutual we wept: we swore eternal constancy.
+Alas! poor idle children of delusion, we little knew how inefficient
+were our weak resolves opposed to wealth and power; to have declared my
+sentiments to her inexorable father, would have made her a perpetual
+exile; again, I suggested assuming the habit of a domestic, sailing
+in the same vessel, and obtaining, on my arrival, a capacity in her
+father’s household; but there, again, the negative predominated; and,
+to be as brief possible in my relation, within ten days from the first
+intelligence of the voyage, I saw the vessel recede from shore, which
+contained my soul’s best treasure--yes, Victor, I kissed, I blessed
+her; and, on my bended knee, invoked the blessings of heaven for her
+safety and protection. She promised a regular correspondence by every
+post; and, compelled to be satisfied with this mutual alleviation of
+our sorrows, involved in all the agonies of love, we parted--_never to
+meet again_. I saw her faint upon the deck--I saw her borne in the rude
+arms of sailors to the cabin--but I saw no more: a temporary stupor
+seized my brain, and I found myself waked from a lethargic dream,
+and surrounded by officious strangers, one of whom calling a coach,
+conveyed me to my father’s house, where a violent illness ensued, which
+lasted many weeks, and caused me to explain to my parents the cause
+of my disorder. My mother, all meekness and gentleness, soothed my
+perturbed mind with the angelic balm of every comfort she could invent;
+but my father ridiculed my boyish folly, laughed me to scorn, and
+reprobated my daring presumption in fixing my ideas on an object so
+eminently my superior.”
+
+I sighed from the bottom of my soul--my uncle paused--looked stedfastly
+in my face to perceive the effect of his narrative--shook his
+head--wiped an intruding tear of recollection, and thus continued:
+
+“The lingering day rolled on in solemn sadness, and the only
+consolation I possessed, was in the valuable society and endearing
+communion of heart, that reciprocally passed between me and my ever
+lamented friend Victor Montalbert: ’twas to _him_, my noble boy, I
+consecrated _your_ name, and may you ever be like him in benevolence,
+friendship, and virtue; for his soul was the mansion of honour, and his
+heart the realm of fidelity; but fate snatched him, like every other
+blessing, from my embrace; and in his loss I never risked a substitute:
+one sincere friend is all a man can ever dare expect; his loss was
+another dagger to my soul, but I had yet an embryo grief in store.
+
+“I had received only four faithful and affectionate letters from my
+lovely exile, when, lo! the next packet from Italy brought me a letter
+from the pen, the direful pen, of her exasperated father, informing me
+he had discovered my audacious correspondence with his daughter, by
+means of an Italian servant, on whose probity Cecilia had confided, and
+dared me ever to address another to his daughter on peril of immediate
+punishment to both parties; and concluded by asserting, he had engaged
+her hand, not to a _pitiful pennyless puppy_, but a man of honour and
+_fortune suitable_ to her own rank in life, which nuptials he should
+instantly _enforce_ her _obedience_ to celebrate.
+
+“Distracted by this unexpected stroke of misfortune, I again relapsed
+into a paroxysm of despair. No letter arrived from Cecilia, by which I
+concluded she was deprived of every resource of future correspondence,
+well knowing the austere tyrant she had to deal with.
+
+“Six months elapsed in the torments of cruel suspense, when one
+day I met, by chance, the identical captain of the vessel in which
+Cecilia left England; of him I enquired intelligence of the Delmond
+family--but what words can express my horror and astonishment, when I
+learned that my beloved Cecilia had been inhumanly sacrificed by her
+barbarian parent, in a compulsatory marriage with an opulent merchant
+residing at Florence, whose name was Lausanne. Thus ended my hopes
+and happiness; for in vain my friends diverted my mind--in vain their
+helpless pity soothed my grief, or roused my energies: all, all, were
+dormant; and, though I was lead in the unceasing round of common-place
+amusements, though I was introduced to the most accomplished and
+lovely women, not one had power to extract a smile, or warm this icy
+heart, for I had sworn I had abjured all women; and from that hour my
+character and manner grew so misanthropical, that even _time_, that
+leveller of good and evil, will ne’er irradicate the poisonous root
+that still entwines the fibres of my heart; and so perfectly have I
+cherished her image in my remembrance, that every feature of Cecilia
+Delmond burst like a beam of sunshine on my soul, when first that
+angelic girl, that Rosa Fitzclarence, met my eye. Do you now _wonder_,
+Victor, at my agitation? can you pity an old man’s sorrows, and not
+indicate feelings that ought perhaps to be extinct, after being a pupil
+in the school of experience to the present age.”
+
+He ceased; and, as he reclined back in his chair, I caught his hand.
+“My dear, my revered uncle,” exclaimed I, “I never till this moment
+knew the virtues of your heart--Why, ah! why have you concealed from
+the world those principles which so justly ennoble the human heart;
+was love a crime on your part! No, ’twas the voluntary effusions of a
+soul replete with virtue, and crowned with honour, that bowed in silent
+submission to the decree of fate.--Alas! good sir, while contemplating
+your sorrows of the heart, how much may I one day experience of my
+own; ah! should my destiny be consonant with your’s, where shall I find
+an antidote?”
+
+“Victor,” resumed my uncle, “heaven avert it--why look so serious? why
+speak with so much energy, my boy?”
+
+“Oh, sir,” replied I, “I cannot explain; make but Rosa Fitzclarence,
+Cecilia Delmond, and search no farther the lacerated heart of St.
+Alban: your own feelings must tell you what mine are at this moment,
+equally, alas! hopeless as sincere.”
+
+“My uncle started forward on his seat, “_hopeless_,” ejaculated he,“Oh!
+heaven forbid; if my most sanguine wishes and endeavours can constitute
+your felicity: but crush, I conjure crush, the impetuous flame, nor
+let false hope, in cob-web guise, flit her visionary form before your
+love-filmed eye to lead you to destruction. Rosa Fitzclarence is an
+orphan heiress, in which case she is left in the power of her guardians
+till she becomes of age, which I understand a few months will complete;
+should the sentiments of those guardians be rigidly enforced, contrary
+to the inclination and future happiness of their ward, it’s more than
+probable she will adopt the system her own good judgment impels, and
+give her hand where love and prudence best direct it, for she has no
+stern father to oppose her happiness like her dear hapless polygraph:
+but be very cautious how you proceed--you have won my heart by your
+candour, and it shall not go unrewarded.”
+
+He wept like an infant; I forced a glass of Madeira through his
+trembling lips--nature wanted its revival.
+
+“One word more,” continued he, “do not, I conjure you, drop the
+slightest hint of your prepossession to Dr. Tonic; the mischief-making
+imp would be a living chronicle of vexation: and, if a _shade_ could
+cross your interest, in his _own behalf_, depend upon it you would rue
+the result of such communication.”
+
+I promised peculiar attention to his desire. “But, sir,” observed I,
+“e’er the subject drops, did you never receive any further intelligence
+of the fate, fortune, or family, of Madame Lausanne?”
+
+“I learnt,” replied my uncle, “that she sunk into a state of apathy
+almost immediately after her marriage, in which she ever expressed
+herself extremely unhappy, and great doubts were entertained of
+her life, for several years after, from the delicacy and impaired
+state of her constitution, subjoined to the morose behaviour of her
+husband, villain as he was; but thank heaven she was relieved from her
+persecution five years after her marriage by the death of her hymenial
+tyrant, soon after she had given birth to a daughter, a circumstance
+wholly unexpected, after so long a series of indisposition acting on a
+frame of such delicate texture, and I have been informed she quitted
+Florence immediately, retired to the recluse shades of Italy, where she
+soon after died a martyr to a broken heart, but whether her _child_ is
+yet _living_, I know not.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. IV.
+
+
+Geoffry now entered, informing us Lady Lustre’s butler had just left
+a basket of grapes, and a bottle of tokay, of which she requested
+my uncle’s opinion next morning, being a present from London lately
+received from a connoisseur in that article, who had imported it in its
+native bag, considering it a choice present.
+
+“And here, sir,” continued Geoffry, producing a most flourishing
+envelope, emblazoned with a seal _three inches sexagon_, “here’s a
+large sort of a letter Mrs. Fungus’s boy brought, but I thought you
+and Mr. Victor seemed busy in conversation, and so I would not disturb
+you to bring it in.”
+
+Geoffry now laid his commissions on the table, and was leaving the
+room, when my uncle re-called him to draw the tokay cork, whilst I
+sat contemplating the enormous cachet, on which was inscribed, “_for
+particulars enquire within_,” a motto much exciting my curiosity, as
+I handed it to my uncle, who, pouting his under lip, observed, it
+was no bad inscription for a lodging-house window, and supposed it a
+pawnbroker’s relic that had escaped redemption.
+
+“Sir,” said I, “are you not playing the severity a little too sharp?”
+
+“Not at all,” replied my uncle, “it may be an instrument hired for the
+purpose of consummate notoriety, a sort of _stop_ trinket belonging to
+neighbour Deposit’s sanctorum.”
+
+Geoffry had by this time bounced the tokay cork, declaring, “never
+nothing smelt so fine, and it sparkled like Miss Fitzclarence’s eyes,
+God bless her pretty beads.”
+
+“Heyday!” exclaimed my uncle, “who made you a judge? who asked your
+opinion?”
+
+“I have been asked it all over the _willage_,” replied the honest
+menial, “and nobody dares contradict me, big or little: I would not
+give up my opinion to a king.”
+
+“Do you understand the qualities of that wine?” said my uncle.
+
+Geoffry shook his bald pate, poured out two glasses, and withdrew,
+without daring to offer any further comment.
+
+My uncle now broke the seal of Mrs. Fungus’s envelope, which contained,
+what appeared to him, a painted and gold emblazoned valentine, so
+strongly impregnated with musk, that extending it at arm’s length,
+while he pinched his nostrils with the other finger and thumb, he
+requested me to peruse the contents, which ran as follows:
+
+“Mrs. Fungus at _home_, at a fete champetre, given next Thursday in
+celebration of Miss Fungus’s birth-day to a select party of _masked_
+friends.”
+
+“And how many does the foolish women expect to find _unmasked_?”
+exclaimed my uncle; “to be sure, when she expresses, “Mrs. Fungus _at
+home_,” she is exactly telling us where she _ought_ to be, but is
+seldom found; however, we’ll go, Victor--and, availing ourselves of
+the proposed disguise, I’ll adopt a magician’s dress, and you may do as
+you like.”
+
+To this proposal I readily assented, and we sipped Lady Lustre’s
+liquor, the flavour of which we found peculiarly fine.
+
+“It’s like herself: it can’t be better,” said my uncle, “and it’s
+as bright and sparkling as Rosa’s pretty beads, as master Geoffry
+familiarly styled them just now: it’s well I was not in one of my
+crabbish moods, or he’d have said less upon that subject, I assure him.”
+
+“I believe the honest creature would die to serve her,” replied I, “he
+thinks her the perfection of nature.”
+
+“And so do I,” rejoined my uncle: “but we’ll quit the subject, and
+advert to one less painful.”
+
+We now strolled through the grounds, to enjoy the delightful breezes
+of evening, and had just passed through a small private gate which led
+into a green lane, when the mill cart of Cloddy Strut came rattling
+along the road, drove by a plain masculine woman, of truly vulgar
+appearance, supported in character by a birch broom on one side, with a
+mop, pail, door-mat, and sundry turnery utensils, subjoined to a leg of
+mutton, and a basket of fish, just landed from the London coach.
+
+“Your most hum_ble_, sir,” said the female Jehu, with the gruff voice
+of a boatswain, “I suppose you did’nt know me, clodhopping along in
+this pretty trim: but I’ve been to market, you see, I don’t mind
+trifles, I’m none of your fine London ladies, I’m Joan Blunt, I care
+for nobody’s sneers.”
+
+“Very true,” replied my uncle, “you’re the _plain_ domestic miller’s
+wife, in every sense of the word, there’s nothing like buckling to
+one’s station in life.”
+
+“Aye; Lord, well, I did not always ride in a cart: I’ve been the gayest
+of the gay in my time, till my _Cymon_ made a convert of me, somehow,
+and metamorphosed me from the fine lady to poor humble _Nell_; well,
+it can’t be helped: I’m contented while my _lump_ uses me kindly; the
+brats are my greatest plague; I never loved children.”
+
+“Why, then, did you marry?” asked my uncle.
+
+Mrs. Strut attempted to blush, but it was only a sham tinge, the
+practice or theory of which she had never practised, nor had she any
+incitement in the obscure retreat of a water mill to call that power
+into action.
+
+My uncle, who only viewed women of that description in the most odious
+light, had passed her with a silent inclination of the head, if her
+loquacious tongue had not arrested his footstep, wished her good
+evening, and closing the gate, left her to bump along, in full riggle,
+with her cottage equipage of mops, brooms, and brushes.
+
+Our walk was delightful; we marked the evening primrose close its
+sombre leaf; the rose was weighed with diamond dew-drops--anon we
+listened to the high poised sky-lark’s evening carrol; and again,
+a secreted nightingale, in a hawthorn hedge, delighted us with the
+exquisite melody of her vesper hymn; and, as the refulgent moon stole
+through the branches of the elegant acacia, all nature seemed to say,
+good night, the pillow of repose is sweet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. V.
+
+
+We now returned to the saloon, partook our evening sandwich, expatiated
+on the qualities of Lady Lustre’s tokay, proposed visiting her next
+morning, and then retired very early to rest; but, e’er the village
+clock told seven, I left my sleepless pillow, and strolled the grounds
+for two hours in converse with old Geoffry, who was arranging the
+hothouse, and furnished me full exercise and employment, which being
+quite novel to me, afforded a pleasant amusement, till my uncle’s
+velvet night-cap made its appearance at the hall door, and his jocular
+whew! hollo! summoned me to breakfast.
+
+“Recollect we dine at Mrs. Henpeck’s to-day, Victor,” said he, “and
+there again we shall meet a fresh squad of comicals, to whom you
+have not been in introduced; but we shall find no Lady Lustres, or
+Fitzclarences there; yet we shall meet with diversion and good cheer,
+to pass the hour.”
+
+“To-morrow, Sir,” said I, “I presume we shall attend church.”
+
+“To be sure we shall; aye, and walk home with Rosa to the Rectory
+afterwards,” replied my uncle smilingly.
+
+“Ye Gods!” exclaimed I, leaping from my chair in a rhapsody of thought
+most enchanting, “who would not go to church!”
+
+“Not you, I fear, without the stimulus of Rosa’s presence--hey,
+Victor,” cried my uncle.
+
+I felt the truth flash my convictive cheek, but I made no reply, and
+after our repast was finished, we set off for a gentle saunter through
+the village to Lady Lustre’s; here, trotting along, smothered in dust,
+we met the Doctor upon his old docked mare, returning from a distant
+visit, puffing and foaming like a lime-kiln, enquiring where we took
+our mutton, because, if at home, he’d help to play a knife and fork
+with us, but my uncle assuring him we were engaged at Mrs. Henpeck’s,
+silenced his self-in-vitation.
+
+“Ho! ho!” cried he, “what, you dine at Henpeck’s, do you? very odd!
+very odd! they should not have invited _me_ and my _family_--drank tea
+there last night--never heard a syllable mentioned--d--d sly--can’t
+make it out. Well, I wish you merry--it’s much if I don’t drop in in
+the evening.”
+
+“_Like enough_,” replied my uncle, nodding his head, “you can play
+Harlequin, and introduce yourself any and every where; you’ve the happy
+knack.”
+
+“My profession authorizes me, in a great measure,” replied the Doctor.
+
+“You mean to say, you are a sort of being one must be cautious how
+one quarrels with,” answered my uncle, “because it’s as much as one’s
+_life’s worth_ to bear enmity with a Doctor--for we all know you are
+the necessary village evil.”
+
+“Evil! evil!” muttered the Doctor, “I don’t comprehend you.”
+
+“Well, well, we’ll explain it over a game at cribbage next time we
+meet; good morning--I can’t stand broiling in the heat and dust any
+longer,” said my uncle, and off we walked till we came in sight of a
+small dwelling in the shape of a _baker’s shop_, into which my uncle
+mechanically walked, to order some corn; and, as I stood tat-tooing my
+cane upon the threshold, I espied the name of Sponge on the door-post;
+oh! thought I, as the little bell tingled behind the shop-door to
+announce us, as sure as I live this is the identical house my uncle
+promised to shew me the master of, and e’er I had formed the idea,
+out popped one of the _fat girls_ I had met in the chaise, not a
+baker’s daughter as I expected to have seen, but a _half-naked_ girl,
+whose _brawny_ limbs protruded through a dress something similar to
+a miller’s _bolting-bag_, her hair was twisted and plaited after the
+similitude of her father’s _twopenny loaves_ that lay scattered on
+the counter, and her _tout-en-ensemble_ gave her the appearance of a
+puppit-shew columbine.
+
+She requested I would walk into the parlour while she went in search of
+her father, whom, I presumed was, as my uncle observed, most probably
+to be found in his _drawing-room_, but we were mistaken; for, at the
+instant of our conjecture, in he came from the piggery, where he had
+been _butchering_ a porker: a red worsted night-cap adorned his bald
+head, while the sleeves of a dirty greasy shirt were tucked up under
+his shoulder, exhibiting to the eye of horror, a pair of sinewy arms
+covered in smeary gore, and round his waist was tied a flour sack,
+drenched in blood, which, with the addition of an old blue pocket
+handkerchief, bound round the grizzled chin of a week’s beard, and
+a mouth crammed with tobacco, the essence of which _distilled_ from
+each _corner_, completed Mister Sponge’s portrait, father to the young
+_lady_ aforesaid, who came flying into the room with a clean white
+apron, which she insisted her _par_ should tie on, “for he was quite a
+fright.”
+
+“What’s the use on’t,” said he.--“The pig beant cut up yet; mayhap
+Mister Tweazy may like a joint,” and up he twitched his greasy leather
+breeches with a _carpenter’s shrug_.
+
+“Oh, by no means,” replied my uncle, “if I had not seen you in this
+dreadful condition, I might have been tempted; but, to tell you the
+truth, my appetite is mighty delicate, and I could not touch it now.”
+
+“Eh, you’re mighty nice indeed,” replied the gruffy boor, whose innate
+manners never exceeded the _bounds_ of his _piggery_, nor was it
+possible ever to rub off the incrustation even with his own _rasp_.
+
+“I thought you had given up pig-killing,” said my uncle, “since you got
+your _unexpected fortune_.”
+
+“Nah!” exclaimed he, (smearing a nasal chrystal on the back of his gory
+_paw_, for it bore at the best of times very little similitude to a
+hand; in fact it was merely a _grasping hook_, with five _claws_ at the
+end, moulded into a sort of _clutch_, wherewith to handle the _loaves_
+of his own family, and the _fishes_ of others). “Nah,” repeated he, “I
+likes the _job_ and the _profit_ too well.”
+
+“I don’t doubt that,” replied my uncle.
+
+“My pigs ain’t like most other people’s,” cried the baker.
+
+“True,” said my uncle, “your’s are _pye-house_ pigs, that’s the reason.”
+
+Master Sponge not understanding the exact inuendo of my uncle,
+snappishly replied, “As to their being _pious_ pigs, he did not
+understand _that there_ sort of language: it _mought_ be _high church_
+manners, but he recollected it was not the first time as Mister Tweazy
+had called _his’n presbyterian pigs_, but that made no odds to a
+_religious_ man like _hisself_.”
+
+“Aye! aye! _practice_ what you _preach_, Master Sponge, there’s nothing
+like _honor_ and _honesty_--we all know your _kind_ of _people talk_
+enough about _both_, but I’m for _actions_,” said my uncle, “actions
+want no trumpeter whether they are good or bad.”
+
+The angry man of slaughter turned upon his heel, his fat fantastic
+daughter tossed up her head, and we marched out of the shop, pursuing
+our way to Lady Lustre’s.
+
+“Did you ever see such a disgusting object?” cried my uncle.
+
+“Never in my life,” said I.
+
+“Then what would you think to see _such_ a man _making love_ to a
+genteel well-educated woman, with a peel full of ‘_toad’s-in-a-hole_,’
+and ‘_veal triangles_,’ smoking hot, balancing over his night-cap in
+the consonant trim, (the bloody sack excepted) which we have beheld him
+this day, and yet he had _charms_.”
+
+“They must be hidden charms of the mind, or heart, I presume,” replied
+I.
+
+“Oh, you must ask his wife that question,” answered my uncle, “or
+enquire at the Golden Lion tap, where _old smoakey_, as they call him,
+lights the first pipe every evening since he pocketted his wife’s
+bundle of _soft rags_, and there he harangues and boasts his _mushroom_
+consequence to the diversion of his neighbours; drinks his best
+_sarvices_ to the _miller_, who swallows them in a cup of _credulity_,
+and after traducing the characters of his _best friends_, who snatched
+him from the fangs of poverty, and the horrors of a _jail_, out of
+_compassion_ to his _family_, he struts to _meetings_ where, under the
+impervious cloak of fell hypocrisy, no dying magpie turns his eyes up
+more completely sanctified, as the tip of his _snub_ grinds in close
+contact with the sacred white wall, against which he _grunts_ out his
+_self-made_ ejaculations.”
+
+“Don’t say another word about him, Sir,” replied I, “the portrait _in
+propria personæ_, and its attached explanation, have been sufficient
+for me.”
+
+My uncle smiled--I shrugged my shoulders, and we now found ourselves in
+view of Lady Lustre’s park gate, which soon after gave us admission to
+her presence.
+
+“I have obeyed your ladyship’s injunction,” said my uncle, as he took
+his seat, “and am come to tell you there is nothing in the village to
+compare with your tokay.”
+
+“I must beg leave to differ,” replied her ladyship, smiling.
+
+“Indeed!” cried my uncle musing on his cane, “then I’m no judge, I
+suppose.”
+
+“Yes, yes, you are,” answered her ladyship, “what think you of our
+Rectory nonpareil?”
+
+“Ah, hah!” said my uncle, “there I yield the palm of decision.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Tweazy,” continued Lady Lustre, “what a charming angelic young
+creature is that Miss Fitzclarence; oh, how I envy Dr. Markwell such
+a treasure as her society; they both called on me last night, and
+had you seen her bewitching form, and heard her edifying scientific
+language on every subject, you would have been in raptures; for, though
+I’m an old woman, I must confess she has made a complete conquest of
+my heart: I am no novice in the school of science, but I feel I am
+only a mere pupil in the hands of an inimitable tutor; she possesses
+the abilities of the sage philosopher, and the juvenile Terpsichore;
+in short, she is human perfection, and Dr. Markwell whispers me, her
+principles of religion are no less eminent and admirable, and would do
+honour to the head and heart of an arch-bishop.”
+
+“I have seen her but once,” said my uncle.
+
+“Then, Sir,” resumed her ladyship, “will you and Mr. St. Alban meet
+her here on Monday, to tea, with a small select party?”
+
+“With much pleasure,” answered my uncle, and the topic dropped, to
+make way for others, amongst which her ladyship proposed accompanying
+us over her grounds, to inspect some improvement lately arranged: and
+here we found ourselves in Elysium; the grotto was beautiful, the
+music rotunda superbly decorated with busts, bronzes, and stained
+glass: the cascade was an enchanting production of art and nature,
+that appeared a combination of magic, while various Gothic arches, of
+exquisite sculpture, subjoined to Chinese bridges thrown geometrically
+across the various canals, heightened the beauties of the surrounding
+scenery, and beguiled our footsteps almost beyond the limited hour of
+our return to dress for Mrs. Henpeck’s dinner, which was to be set
+on table precisely at four o’clock, with the exactitude of the polar
+needle, as Mrs. Henpeck never delayed her grace one moment to please
+any body--punctuality was her table motto--and her _rule_ was _law_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VI.
+
+
+At ten minutes, therefore, before the appointed time, my uncle and I
+found ourselves ushered into Mrs. Henpeck’s drawing-room, where all was
+gaudy and profuse, while the ruddy mistress of the feast introduced
+us to her guests already arrived; but to give you her portrait as she
+met our view, I must describe her dress, which consisted of a cambric
+_bolster-case_ bedizened with lace, into which she had crammed her
+uncouth, ill-shaped figure, _a la swab_; her copper-coloured neck was
+adorned with an enormous necklace of _barley-sugar_ appearance; and her
+trout skin, morphew-wrinkled unprepossessing visage, was encircled by
+the straggling ringlets of a black wig, which ever and anon tormented
+her gooseberry-coloured crowfooted blinkers.
+
+Mr. Henpeck was as clean scraped up and powdered as lovey could make
+him appear: she had plaited his frill and tied his neckcloth as nice
+as a new pin, and no doubt deputed his seat behind the door, where he
+seemed fixed like one of Punch’s puppets, till the word of command from
+his wife twitched the wire of liberty, and set the poor automaton in
+motion.
+
+“Mr. Henpeck!” shrieked his lady, “how you sit _glued_ to your chair,
+_my love_: why don’t you introduce the company: pray, who so proper as
+the master of the house.”
+
+The placid man obeyed the mandate, and thus announced the group: “Mr.
+and Mrs. Coniac; Major Pea-Chick; Mr. Munchausen; Mrs. Wau-Wau; Miss
+Bleary Wau-Wau; Lady Flam;” he then continued--“Ladies and gentlemen,
+this is Mr. Tweazy, this Mr. Victor St. Alban: now, my love, I’ve done
+my duty,” and down he sat.
+
+“Lord! Mr. Henpeck,” exclaimed his wife, “you’ll never be _Sir Clement_
+the _Second_--but what, in the name of wonder, my dear, have you
+resumed your seat for? why don’t you ring the bell for dinner?”
+
+Mr. Henpeck obeyed: but somehow stumbled, and his glossy shoe, of
+Fawcett brilliance, coming in contact with the ancle of his clean silk
+stocking, left an indelible mark, and highly provoked the lady of the
+house.
+
+“My God, Mr. Henpeck, you’re worse than a child: see what a condition
+your stocking is in, and you know I always _wash_ them myself--I’m the
+most particular _nice_ woman living--you know I am.”
+
+“Well, well, my love, never mind,” said the timid man.
+
+“But I do mind,” rejoined Mrs. Henpeck, “I hate to be put out of temper
+when I’ve my friends about me, I love _peace_ and _mildness_;” then
+elevating her voice to a pitch of _violence_, “ring the bell again, Mr.
+Henpeck: if the servants don’t answer, ring it _down_, and don’t sit
+like a statue.”
+
+Again Mr. Henpeck agitated the wire, and the servant appeared.
+
+“Is dinner served?” asked Mrs. Henpeck with visible impatience.
+
+“No, Ma’am,” said the foot-boy, “cook’s had an _accidency_ with the
+fish _sarse_, and it’s like to have set the chimbly on fire.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Henpeck, “all my rich lobster sauce wasted--a
+nasty careless hussy!” and up she jumped, like an enraged tygress, to
+bolt off to the scene of action.
+
+“You can’t get into the kitchen, ma’am,” continued the boy, “it’s all
+of a swim of water in trying to put the fire out, and cook’s washing
+the soot off the ducks.”
+
+“Gracious heaven! I shall run mad,” cried Mrs. Henpeck, darting out of
+the room, without any interruption from her quiet husband, who knew
+he did not dare interfere in kitchen fracas, till his wife’s sonorous
+squall from the bottom of the stairs roused his obedience in the
+following words:
+
+“Mr. Henpeck! Mr. Henpeck! _put on my pattens_, and come down into the
+floating kitchen, this moment.”
+
+“Dear me,” said Lady Flam, “I hope the chimney is not on fire: the very
+idea makes me tremble.”
+
+“Never fear, madam,” replied Mr. Munchausen, “there’s plenty of us to
+put it out; now I entertain no fears of conflagration, for I have very
+often a fire in every room in the house at my Staffordshire villa, and
+I think we compute _fifteen rooms, en suite, three stories high_--for
+it’s a d--d cold place, I do assure you, in the hunting season; why,
+would your ladyship believe it, that the poultry and spring chickens in
+my hennery, to the tune of about 750 of them, were actually so cramped
+with cold, that I was compelled to erect a Buzaglo stove in the centre,
+guarded with gold wire work to prevent accident, and have a large
+_turkey carpet_ to cover the floor, so that you’ll observe, they could
+use exercise over their woollen parterre, or huddle round the fire at
+pleasure; and then as to my pigs, no man so particular! Why it cost
+me 75 _guineas_ in _chestnuts_ for them last winter, beside a hundred
+weight of _Pistachio nuts_! I assure you my expences are not trifling.”
+
+“Bless me,” said Lady Flam, “I’m astonished--I really never heard of
+such things as _carpets_ in a _hennery_, and _pigs_ fed on a _Pistachio
+nuts_.”
+
+“My dear lady,” resumed Mr. Munchausen, “perhaps you have never visited
+Italy?”
+
+“Never,” replied her ladyship.
+
+“Ah! then I don’t wonder at your surprise; because it’s a very common
+thing with people of distinction in Italy to give their choice pigs
+Pistachio’s,” replied the bombastic narrator; “my sow, for instance,
+was a present to me from the emperor of China, for some trivial
+services I had rendered myself conspicuous in at his court, and a most
+valuable beautiful creature she is--she was one of _five and thirty
+at a litter_! and, therefore, as I before said, no man in England
+possessing such a sow as myself, I don’t mind what expence I incur to
+maintain her.”
+
+“What a shame, Mr. Munchausen,” cried Miss Bleary Wau Wau, (hanging
+her head on one shoulder, and leering her non-descript eye in every
+direction of vacancy towards the object addressed) “what an extravagant
+creature to feed pigs with such delicious rarities--’pon honour, I
+don’t believe it.”
+
+“’Pon honor, Miss Bleary,” replied he, turning his eye in the exact
+direction of her’s, “you really, my dear young lady, expose your want
+of knowledge very much; _I_, who have visited the Continent, and been
+in most parts of the known world, must know what I’m talking about; as
+well you might deny, that when I was in France, the dog that was made
+me a present at the Palais Royale, did’nt have a dish of Ortolans every
+day provided for his dinner.”
+
+“Oh, monstrous!” exclaimed the ladies.
+
+“Pray, Sir,” said Major Pea-Chick (with his _white pig-tail_, and his
+_scarlet rimmed_ eyes, who wished to play off a little of his witty
+artillery), “pray, Sir, where may this famous sow of yours be? I should
+like mightily to see her munch the Pistachio’s: I suppose she has a
+peculiar method of cracking them--or do you _crack_ for _her_?”
+
+Mr. Munchausen aware of the little military punster’s sarcasm,
+replied, “he occasionally employed an _old disabled soldier_ to
+crack them.”--This silenced the witticism which no one could parry
+more adroitly than Munchausen, the pupil of effrontery, who secretly
+determined to retaliate on the Major the first opportunity.
+
+“What colour is your famous sow, Mr. Munchausen?” drawled Mrs. Wau Wau,
+through her nose.
+
+“It’s brindle, ma’am,” replied he, “with a short curly white tail,
+about the length of _Major Pea-Chick’s queue_.”
+
+“I should rather have expected to hear it was _nine yards long_, like
+the Bengal tyger’s that attacked a friend of mine, who positively swore
+to the dimension,” cried the Major, bursting into a teh he!
+
+“I presume,” said my uncle, very gravely, “your friend _stretched_ it
+to that length in his way home--it was an elastic tail, I imagine.”
+
+“Exactly so,” replied the Major, “for after we had _roasted_ it well,
+it shrunk to a common size.”
+
+“Do you keep pigeons, Sir?” resumed Miss Bleary.
+
+“No, ma’am, not always--I occasionally make them _keep me_.”
+
+“What, you make them into pies,” I suppose, snuffled Mrs. Wau-Wau; “we
+are very fond of _pigeons_ at _our_ house.”
+
+“So am I, ma’am,” replied Mr. Munchausen, with a very serious face, “I
+generally _pot_ all pigeons--its an excellent way, I assure you.”
+
+“You’ve a peculiar receipt, perhaps, for the article,” cried Major
+Pea-Chick, “though potted pigeons are no great rarity now, as they
+used to be.”
+
+“When you was in the _Turkey-line_, you mean,” replied Munchausen;
+“d--me how you cropped and scragged them; I remember it well, though I
+was but a lad--aye! aye! you’ve been the sort, Major, you tamed your
+pigeons into goldfinches, netted them snug, and then turned over a new
+_leaf_.”
+
+“Where, I believe, you’ll find few blots,” interrupted the little
+Major, reddening with passion, till his ears looked like the scarlet
+wattles of a dunghill cock; at which moment of snip-snap, Mr. Henpeck
+re-entered the room, announcing dinner on the table, which quietly
+ended the controversy.
+
+Here we found Mrs. Henpeck seated, with a face like scarlet, with
+passion and culinary exertions, apologizing to her company for the
+carelessness of her cook in destroying the fish sauce, and spoiling the
+delicious ducks--add to which, the baker had broke her a fine pigeon
+pye, which from its mutilated state could not make its appearance, and
+the fruit tarts were scorched to a cinder; “but here does not end my
+perplexity,” continued the auditress (who looked the picture of Medusa,
+with black snakes hanging over her fiery cheek) “for my beautiful
+blamange swan has entirely melted into a mass of cream owing to the
+heat of the weather.”
+
+“Never mind, madam, here’s a very good dinner still left to gratify our
+appetites,” said Munchausen.
+
+“I think so, too,” cried little Mr. Coniac, leering his _sneaking eyes_
+all round the table, and biting his _spite-puckered_ lips, “we’d a pig
+of the same sow at _our_ house the other day.”
+
+“No such a thing, Mr. Coniac,” replied his contradicting wife, “you
+know nothing of the matter; I beg you’ll never trouble your head with
+my domestic concerns for the pleasure of retailing them in company;
+I want no mol-codling husband at my heels--I always chose to be
+directress of my own house, from the garret to the cellar.”
+
+“No, my dear, no;” replied Mr. Coniac, “not directress of the _cellar_
+neither, that is _my_ department, Mrs. Coniac, women have no business
+in cellars for fear of ----” and he winked his eye at Mr. Henpeck.
+
+“Aye, for fear of the _rats_,” interrupted Mr. Munchausen, “d--n the
+rats--I had one in my cellar the other day as big as a rabbit, gnawed
+me a dozen of Madeira corks; but, as luck would have it, never touched
+those of a _pipe_ of _port_ I had just bottled and laid down.”
+
+“Aye, well,” continued Mr. Coniac, “I don’t know how it is, but I’d
+rather have four-legged rats than two-legged ones; there’s no vermin
+in our cellars, but a devilish lot of spirits, that vanish whenever
+the door opens; it matters not who turns the key, for when you come to
+look, egad they are all off.”
+
+“Lord! Mr. Coniac,” exclaimed his wife, foaming at the mouth with
+_anchovy froth_, “your disagreeable conversation is quite brutal and
+disgusting.”
+
+“Don’t quarrel with fish-bones in your mouth, Mrs. Coniac,” replied her
+aggravating husband, “take a little drop of brandy, my dear, or you’ll
+be sick presently.”
+
+“Not I, indeed,” replied Mrs. Coniac, tossing her head in a terrible
+rage.
+
+“Aye, do, madam,” cried Mr. Henpeck, “and I’ll pledge you--fish is very
+apt to _rise_ in my stomach.”
+
+“Then I’m sure fish is likely to _fall_ in your stomach,” replied
+Mrs. Henpeck--“Good God, Mr. Henpeck, touch a drop of brandy if you
+dare--what would Dr. Tonic say? hemph, brandy indeed! _I’ll_ take some
+with Mrs. Coniac, with _pleasure_; but as to you, it’s out of the
+question.”
+
+She then ordered the servant to fill out four _thimbles_ full, one of
+which was handed to Lady Flam, another to Mrs. Wau Wau (who always sat
+with her mouth _open_ for the ready convenience of any consequences
+that might arise from a _surcharge_) a third to Mrs. Coniac, (who never
+used such _small_ glasses at _home_), and the remaining one she tossed
+off herself.
+
+“What a pretty dance, ‘Drops of Brandy’ is,” said Miss Bleary Wau Wau.
+
+“Yes,” replied the Baron’s great-grandson, _alias_ Mr. Munchausen, “I
+have seen many capital _reels_ danced to that _tune_.”
+
+“Ma’r and I are very fond of reels,” continued Miss Bleary.
+
+“Not _brandy reels_, I hope,” whispered Munchausen.
+
+“O you brute! no, to be sure;” answered she, “I mean Scotch reels,
+danced with skipping-ropes; you should see my _Ma’r_ skip: Commodore
+_Grapple_, Captain _Flash pan_, and Lieutenant _Powder-proof_, all
+India folks of our acquaintance, declared she skipped scientifically,
+about two or three years ago, when it was such a fashionable
+amusement.”
+
+“_Nar, now_, Bleary, _now_! you make a body blush; consider I’m an old
+_duman_, you should not talk about such nonsense now,” drawled the lady
+mother, grinning like a turnip-ghost upon the head of a mischievous
+school-boy’s crab stick, decked in the Eastern presents of Messrs.
+Grapple, Flash-pan, and Powder-proof, ornamented by _Indian pigeon_
+feathers, highly _perfumed_: while Miss Bleary, a mere composition of
+musk and otto, was the quintessence of affectation.
+
+“Pray,” said Mr. Coniac, sneeringly, “who might be the upholsterer that
+furnished your Staffordshire villa?”
+
+“Who,” replied Munchausen, “why that stilish dog _George Oakley_ to be
+sure, one of the most tasty fellows in England; I left it all to his
+management: even the _carpet_ and _curtain_ of the _buttery_ were his
+choice; every suite of rooms carries you into a different country, we
+have the Chinese, the Grecian, the Parisian, and the Russian costume,
+with transparent blinds attached, to correspond, with the scenery of
+the various countries; so that I can breakfast in China, dine at Paris,
+and drink tea in Russia, every day of my life; and then there’s the
+grounds, the successive houses, the forcing tables for my nectarine
+and peaches, where you may sit round, and by taking the trouble to
+raise the leaf, every person has the pleasure to pluck his own fruit.
+I mean to take Mrs. Munchausen, and my family, down, in the course of
+a fortnight, with a few select friends; for, to say the truth, I can’t
+well go earlier on account of my new landau-barouche, the springs of
+which are so infernal stiff, that I have lent it to a friend to give
+it a fortnight’s rattle; but, observe you, I don’t lend him my set of
+greys--no, no, they are training in high condition--cost me a cool five
+hundred, and four more for the barouche--I’m a sad extravagant dog, but
+I can’t help it: it’s a _knack_ I was _born_ with.”
+
+“Well,” cried the Major, “I can content myself with my humble marine
+cottage.”
+
+“It’s according to the taste you possess, or was bred up in, probably,”
+replied Munchausen, “for my part, a _Pleb_ cottage would have nothing
+but the horrors for me; I should imagine myself transported to a
+Dyot-street attic, where the pigs, poultry, jack-asses, family and Co.
+independent of the live-stock they enjoy gratis, all exist in the same
+enclosure, graced with a garden of wall-flowers, stuck in a broken
+tea-pot to conceal the ventilator of the shattered crockery casement,
+and make it look _rural_: or, what think you, by way of a _cooler_
+prospect, of a _canal_ in a _red dish_ full of _tittle-bats_.”
+
+The company set up a loud laugh; but Mr. Munchausen did not smile:
+it was no laughing matter, in his opinion, for he had _visited such
+scenes_, and _coloured_ them to the _life_.
+
+“Talking of fish-ponds,” resumed he, “I have some of the first in
+England: I sent down three waggons of Portland stone to dam the
+banks with--one I have fitted up in a peculiar style of elegance for
+gold-fish, where, by this time, I suppose I have about _five hundred
+brace_ under the good management of my steward, who has stocked two
+extensive canals with every description of curious and delicious fish,
+reserving a certain snug corner for the accommodation of a pair of
+turtles during their appropriate residence in this country, according
+to the statute of their existence, that they may enjoy their _lives_,
+and I their _deaths_, devoting an elegy to their perfection from the
+pen of the _jaw-worker’s_ company, some men of _taste_ belonging to
+which I should invite for the express purpose.”
+
+“What a funny man you are,” exclaimed Miss Bleary; “is it possible you
+can ever be grave, blessed with such a share of spirits as you possess.”
+
+“Indeed,” replied Munchausen, “I should have no objection to become
+possessor of a much more _eminent share_ of _spirits_, and make you my
+pretty bar-maid, the cordial drops you would retail would revive every
+expiring cockle in a poissard’s basket, and then the world would be
+justified in calling me a _rum_ fellow, while your situation would be
+constituted the _mart_ of _universal comfort_, supported by men and
+women of _taste_.”
+
+“But I should not be thought a girl of taste--I thank you kindly, Sir,”
+answered Miss Bleary with much resentment, “I’d have you to know, Sir,
+my ideas soar to a palanquin.”
+
+“Oh! the sweetest lounge upon earth--don’t mention such an uncomattable
+luxury: I’ve been carried in the most superb stile in one the emperor
+lent me, covered with musical bells, that played fifty different
+successive tunes; the mattrass was eider down, covered with pink
+embroidered silk, and the curtains were fringed with gold--and, egad,
+the slaves scampered along with me at the rate of ten miles an hour!”
+
+“Delightful,” exclaimed Lady Flam, “how I should like a trip to the
+East, to be waited on by slaves, and actually lulled to repose in the
+cradle of luxury, if my time was to come over again.”
+
+“Aye, madam,” replied Major Pea-Chick, “but _you_ and _I_ e’ent
+_chick-a-biddies_ now.”
+
+“D----n it,” said Munchausen, “you can’t forget _trade_, the old
+_Guinea-hen concern_ seems to stick in your stomach; I’ll thank you to
+amputate me a limb of that duck--ah, if you could see my _Staffordshire
+duckery_, you’d say they exceeded all the ’Change-alley waddlers, for
+we hatch them in such abundance, that half an acre which I ordered to
+be sowed with onions and sage, is not sufficient to season them with,
+so that my cottagers and menials are literally _gorged_ with them.”
+
+“I wish I was your neighbour,” cried Mr. Henpeck, “for ducks are a
+terrible price in London.”
+
+“Pray, Mr. Henpeck, hold your tongue; you’ve no business, my dear,
+to trouble yourself with market expences; we a’nt going to exact so
+much a-head from our friends after dinner, as to explain the various
+prizes like an inn-keeper,” said the indignant Mrs. Henpeck, seizing a
+beautiful bowl of sallad, which she unmercifully devoured before any
+of the company had partaken of it; and after having half bolted it
+down, observing it to be an article in much requisition, she actually
+re-called the servant, and returned the remaining particles off her
+plate into the bowl, _pro bono publico_, which vegetable was not again
+demanded at table, for Mr. Munchausen observing the circumstance,
+immediately enlarged on the qualities of his spring cucumbers.
+
+“My gardiner,” said he, “cut me _six brace_ of patagonian cucumbers
+last _Valentine’s day_.”
+
+“_Natives_ of _Brodinag_, I presume,” replied Major Pea-Chick, “for
+I’ll be bound they were the _only_ ones in England at that _period_ of
+the season.”
+
+My uncle, who had been a mere eating automaton during the retaliating
+snip-snap of Messrs. Munchausen and Pea-Chick, and who well knew the
+rhodomontade principles of the former, proposed a general bumper of
+Madeira, to wash down the patagonian cucumbers, which caused another
+laugh at the expence of the credulous.
+
+“You shall not drink Madeira, Mr. Henpeck, I assure you,” exclaimed
+his observant wife, just as he had raised the bewitching glass to his
+lips, the contents of which he, with a brisk mechanical chuck, gulped
+down, before the sentence of forbearance reached his ears, the lady not
+having been quick enough in her commands, which were never delivered in
+the mildest terms.
+
+This breach of non-conformity encreased Mrs. Henpeck’s anger. “If
+you choose to kill yourself, Mr. Henpeck, I have no fears of getting
+a third husband, depend upon it--there _are_ men who would take my
+advice, and _value_ it too: so play your own game, and see who’ll
+suffer for it in the end.”
+
+“Madam,” cried Mr. Munchausen, “it was only an accidental slip over
+the tongue, I declare Mr. Henpeck was making _full charge_, when your
+mandate to _halt_ vibrated on his ear, and had he stopped at the
+moment, strangulation had made you a widow in the midst of your gala.”
+
+“Aye, you’re a good hand to help a lame dog over a stile, we well
+know,” replied Mrs. Henpeck, helping the floating remains of her
+vanished blamange swan, which so reminded Lady Flam of a dish of cream,
+that she asked Mr. Munchausen if he kept cows?
+
+“O, yes, ma’am,” replied he, “and some extraordinary _bulls_ of my
+own breed; I have likewise half a score choice buffalos, about five
+and twenty couple of deer, and three score of Merino sheep, all the
+children of liberty in my park.”
+
+“Oh, the lovely brebi’s,” exclaimed Lady Flam; then turning to Mrs.
+Coniac, “Oh how I doat on the brebi’s.”
+
+“The what?” enquired Mrs. Coniac, to whom Mrs. Flam might as well have
+talked Greek or French: “the what, did your ladyship say?”
+
+“The brebi’s, the petite agneau’s.”
+
+Mrs. Coniac shook her head in non-comprehension.
+
+“What, don’t you know what I mean?” resumed her pedantic ladyship.
+
+“No,” said Mrs. Coniac, very ignorantly.
+
+Lady Flam, astonished, drew up her lips to the dimension of a
+buttonhole, exclaiming, “impossible!” then dilating them on equal
+stretch, and curving her arched eye brows into a frown of incredulity,
+“incroya’ble,” continued she, staring Mrs. Coniac from head to foot.
+
+“He! he! he!” sniggered Mr. Coniac, “my wife don’t understand the
+_parley-woo’s_--she don’t understand French but when I order soup and
+_bully_ of a washing-day. Mrs. Coniac never loved school, though she
+was at it the first twenty years of her life, but somehow she could
+never learn French.”
+
+“No, not I,” answered Mrs. Coniac (with cheek of scarlet indignation,
+who, well knowing the origin of Lady Flam was no other than an
+_Abcedarian_ at a London school, from whence she eloped in the
+character of _chere amie_ to Lord Flam, who afterwards married her).
+“As I was neither bred, or intended for a _teacher_, it was a science
+of no consequence where my _livelihood_ was not _dependant_ upon my
+abilities.”
+
+Lady Flam, who felt the _retort uncourteous_, instantly replied, “it
+was very fortunate where people’s bread was ready buttered to their
+appetites, particularly if they were deficient in ability to earn it.”
+
+“Aye, aye,” replied little Coniac, “We’ve plenty of bread well buttered
+in my _wife’s family cupboard_: but the _lock’s rusty_ at present, and
+the _hinges_ are creaky, so you see we only take a peep through the
+keyhole.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” cried the vulgar pleb Major, “we all know you fell with
+your nose in a butter-tub when you married.”
+
+“To be sure I did,” replied Mr. Coniac, “but I took care not to
+_butter_ my _fingers_ as _some folks_ do.”
+
+The Major coloured from the effect of his private feelings on that
+score, but made no reply.
+
+“Egad,” said Munchausen, “I should have no objection to fall with
+my nose into a tub of tallow, but the chance is gone by I believe;
+I’ve played many harlequin manœuvres in my time, skipped out of the
+frying-pan into the fire, leaped from thence on to the grid-iron, and
+been soaked in boiling-water, by way of stewing out my troubles, have
+been roasted like a red-herring on a fork, and picked to pieces, so
+that all the grease I ever possessed, melted away in torrents like a
+pound of rush-lights in the dog-days, and now the sweat of my brow
+must make up for’t, that’s all I know--I must look sharp after my
+Staffordshire tenantry, and save my bacon--yes, yes, they sha’nt gammon
+me.”
+
+“Do you play _back gammon_?” asked Lady Flam.
+
+“Oh, yes, frequently,” replied Munchausen.
+
+“He is an adept, madam, I assure you,” said the Major, “and more
+particularly in the science of _face gammon_: may be that’s a game you
+never heard of, if you are not very intimate with Mr. Munchausen.”
+
+“La! what is _face gammon_?” cried Miss Bleary.
+
+“A very deep game, I assure you,” replied Munchausen; “extremely
+difficult to attain, because there are one hundred different ways of
+playing it, there being no established rule or prescription, so that
+each party plays it according to his own judgment and benefit.”
+
+“Is it played with cards or dice?” enquired Mrs. Coniac, (whose husband
+was a dab at _back gammon_ in more senses of the word than one.)
+
+“Madam,” replied Munchausen gravely, “it is played only with _brass_
+instruments, such as arrows, lancets, shuttlecocks, &c.; in short, it’s
+by no means a lady’s game, tho’ I have seen some attempt it.”
+
+“Well, I can’t comprehend it,” replied Mrs. Coniac.
+
+“I can only say, it’s a pity you should, madam--it ill suits your sex,”
+answered Munchausen, laughing in her face.
+
+“Come, come,” cried Mrs. Henpeck, “you gentlemen seem to be at cross
+purposes--pray don’t measure swords, while we ladies adjourn to make
+your coffee. Mr. Henpeck, my dear, remember your restrictions: help
+your friends liberally, but don’t exceed three glasses yourself--now
+mind what I say, don’t play the baby in my absence--we shall expect you
+in the drawing-room to cards in half an hour;” so saying, the ladies
+following in train, withdrew.
+
+Mr. Henpeck assumed his wife’s chair, requesting Mr. Munchausen to
+officiate as vice-president: no one better calculated to push the
+bottle, fabricate a story, or confound an argument as long as a
+Chancery suit; and, suffice it to say, he completely kept the company
+in a roar, till Mrs. Henpeck’s patience being quite exhausted, her card
+table all arranged, and her coffee cold, rushed into the room like an
+unexpected hurricane, insisting Mr. Henpeck was an invalid, and should
+drink no longer.
+
+“Mr. Vice,” cried she, “pray oblige me by doing the duties of the
+chair, and supplying every gentleman’s glass--but as to my dear Mr.
+Henpeck, he shall not take poison before my face--he must and shall
+retire with me to the drawing-room,” saying which, she linked her arm
+within his, and led the placid soul out of the room in triumph, thereby
+setting an example we all felt compelled to follow; and, therefore, as
+he had marched off under the flying colours of petticoat government, we
+had only to bring up the rear, which we immediately did, each digesting
+his own opinion upon the transaction.
+
+Coffee having been cleared away, Mrs. Henpeck arranged us at the
+card-table, as follows:
+
+My uncle and Lady Flam, with Mrs. Coniac and Munchausen; Mr. Coniac and
+Mrs. Wau-Wau, versus Major Pea-Chick and Mrs. Henpeck. Miss Bleary and
+Mr. Henpeck, and myself, were seated at three handed cribbage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VII.
+
+
+No sooner had the whist group taken their seats than an exclamation
+from Mr. Munchausen roused every body’s attention.
+
+“D----n it,” said he, “I’m neatly dished:” searching his pocket nearly
+as low as his knees, “changed my small clothes before I came out, and
+egad the d----l a sous have I got. Who’ll be so kind to lend me half
+a guinea, or five shillings? I’ll give it them again to-morrow. Mr.
+Tweazy, Sir, may I beg the favour of you?”
+
+“Sir,” said my uncle, very deliberately, “I have no more in my pocket
+than the exigencies of my own game may demand, neither has my nephew,
+for we were obliged to have recourse to the housekeeper’s purse for all
+the silver we could collect.”
+
+This was a glorious hint to me, which, from my uncle’s manner, I
+plainly perceived had some peculiar inuendo inexplicable at the moment,
+or I had most readily complied with Mr. Munchausen’s request.
+
+He next applied to Major Pea-Chick, who declared he had only a solitary
+seven shilling piece and a five pounder in his pocket.
+
+Well, that wouldn’t do, and Munchausen bit his nails.
+
+“Coniac, my dear fellow, can you assist me?” continued he; but Coniac
+too was poor, and must take care of himself, so what was to be done.
+
+“Why give your draft,” said the Major, “it will be _honour_, at the
+_pump_.”
+
+“What by washing away his debts of honour, I suppose you mean,” cried
+Mr. Coniac.
+
+“True,” replied Munchausen, nothing daunted, “I can give my note.”
+
+“Ah, you’re a _noted_ dog we all know,” said Mr. Henpeck. “Here I’ll
+lend you five shillings.”
+
+Mrs. Henpeck looked _unutterable_ things, but for once she did not
+reprove, and in the sequel of the game Mr. Munchausen left off half a
+crown winner; and, gentleman-like, politely returned Mr. Henpeck’s loan.
+
+Sandwiches and fruit succeeded; and at twelve we took our respective
+leaves: Miss Wau-Wau and her mama were escorted home by Major
+Pea-Chick: Mrs. Coniac _sailed_ out of the house like a full _furled
+man of war_, and her husband leering under his deep slouched beaver,
+sneaked after, while Lady Flam, to mortify Mrs. Coniac, offered my
+uncle and self seats in her chariot, the acceptance of which she would
+take no denial to; which, though extremely averse to the principles
+of my uncle, politeness compelled him to comply with, and we actually
+drove off before Mrs. Coniac could make the _clogs fit_ at all, while
+a carriage stood at the door, to her a convenience at all times most
+desirable; and of which she still anticipated the possession when her
+old rich aunt resigned it for one of _Jarvis’s patent_ accommodations.
+
+Thus ended our medley visit, and much rejoiced was I to press my
+pillow, and dream of meeting Rosa at the sacred fane of piety next
+morning.
+
+My uncle’s hour of breakfast on the Sabbath was nine precisely, that
+he might have time to dress for church without hurrying himself,
+for no man alive was more punctual to religious duties; and as the
+church tinkled its triple chime, off we set, followed by Geoffry with
+the books, who escorted Mrs. Esther Rebecca Susanna Rangewell, the
+house-keeper, on his arm, dressed in rich brocade lutestring, and her
+stiff starched book-muslin apron and handkerchief, bedecked with her
+master’s old point ruffles--oh, what a swell she cut as she waggled out
+of the gate, full dressed, to see old Geoffry’s _village angel_, alias
+Miss Fitzclarence, on whose beauty and accomplishments Geoffry had rung
+such a peal in Mrs. Esther Rebecca Susanna’s ears, that the antiquated
+dame was absolutely half _jealous_ to think he could prefer any body to
+herself, after living together, as they had done, in love and harmony
+for thirty years. But Geoffry was a man of _taste_, superior to a
+_French cook_--and though his knowledge did not extend much beyond the
+best peach, or the finest rose in the garden, he had perspicuity to
+discern, that neither excelled the _cheek_ of Miss Fitzclarence.
+
+Arrived at the pew-door, we reverently took our seats, amidst the
+assembly of the whole village, for curiosity, like a summer sun, had
+drawn every snail from its shell, and even Messrs. Fungus and Deposit,
+had supported the fatigue of a fag, in the broiling heat, above a mile,
+_to see_ this divine creature.
+
+My uncle nudged my elbow, and by the direction of his intelligent eye,
+directed mine to the opposite pew, where sat the amiable Mrs. Markwell
+and her lovely protegee--a reciprocal bow passed between us--but such a
+radiance of sublimity as illuminated the countenance of Rosa, I never
+beheld--her devotion was fervent, her eye never wandered; Eloise in
+her confessional was not more recluse from the incitement of public
+gaze, unconscious that every eye benignant, or malicious, levelled its
+scrutiny on her most minute action.
+
+There was no organ--an uncouth rustic sounded the pitch pipe, and
+Rosa’s seraph voice caught every ear--’twas melody extatic--’twas
+harmony divine--I could have leaped the pew and pressed her to my heart.
+
+Five different times had Mrs. Deposit changed her seat from one corner
+to the other, but still a protruding pillar precluded a full view, and
+a sidelong glance was the most she could possibly obtain.
+
+The service ended, the congregation (peasantry excepted) drew up in the
+church porch to make their reverent obeisances to the Rector, and enjoy
+a full stare at Rosa, who stood by his side, whilst my uncle and I
+remained silent spectators in the back-ground, to avoid the malevolence
+of satirical observers; and thanks to heaven, the worthy rector, aware
+of the impertinent curiosity her reported beauty had excited, led her
+from the rude gaze of her surrounding complimenters.
+
+The throng dispersing, we followed, unnoticed, to the Rectory, where
+the smiles of benignity welcomed us in every countenance.
+
+I took my seat beside Rosa--I gazed in rapture, and my uncle’s eyes
+glistened in tears, as he thanked the good Rector for his excellent
+sermon, observing, he had never favoured his congregation with it
+before.
+
+“Don’t thank me, my dear Sir,” replied Dr. Markwell, “it is Miss
+Fitzclarence who selected it from her library, as the composition of
+the celebrated Blair-’tis therefore to her taste and judgment your
+thanks are due.”
+
+“I then fervently acknowledge the favour and satisfaction I have
+received from hearing so excellent a discourse,” replied my uncle,
+“though I much fear,” continued he, “it made very little impression on
+Mrs. Fungus, or Mrs. Deposit, their curiosity seemed to me to be more
+prevalent than their devotion.”
+
+“We received a visit from them very unexpected--and, I must say,
+unwished,” answered the Rector, “my sweet Rosa contributed every thing
+in her power to entertain them, but their flippant mock consequence was
+so evident and disgusting, that necessity compelled me to ask them if
+they eat nettles, as I had been told there was a species of them that
+_envenomed_ the tongue, but that Miss Fitzclarence had favoured my
+family with an antidote superior to my recipe in the Pharmacopia: and
+should such an effect ever attack them, she would administer it with
+pleasure; they burst into an effected laugh--and when they did us the
+_favour_ to take their departure, I believe Rosa did not regret it.”
+
+Rosa nodded assent; but as calumny had never parched her coral lip,
+she would not contaminate it now.
+
+“My dear Sir,” said she, “strangers are not prepossessing; and though I
+had the happiness to captivate _you_ at first sight (when your extended
+arm clasped me to your bosom, and your benignant voice hailed me as
+your child); those ladies might consider me in a very different point
+of view--young and unpractised as I am in the school of modern life, I
+am, I hope, the harmless child of nature.”
+
+“And they are the vile pupils of art,” exclaimed the Rector,
+interrupting her, “the corruption of the village--and glad shall I be
+when the voluptuous scenes of London recalls their hateful company
+from our valley of peace and contentment; and I don’t doubt but Mrs.
+Deposit’s Loo club will, in the course of next winter be established
+every _Sunday_ evening, where their adoration will be paid at the
+shrine of Pam.”
+
+“Sir, sir, you make me tremble,” exclaimed Rosa; “is it possible such
+conduct can be countenanced or suffered in a christian country.”
+
+“Alas! my child, too possible--’tis even in some instances become
+habitual, though I grieve to acknowledge it even in my closet, that the
+infection may never produce the direful contagion in any circle of my
+connexion.”
+
+“My father, alas! was too much addicted to its baneful influence, I
+have heard say,” sighed the beauteous Rosa, “and caused my beloved and
+excellent mother much grief on the occasion, but all her prudential
+remonstrances were vain, he played deep, but in general very
+successful. Yet, with all his excess of folly he never profaned the
+sabbath with that dreadful innovation of its laws, though many other
+vices were attached to the unhappy principles he possessed.”
+
+The soft tear of sensibility fell from the eye of Rosa--it flowed from
+the spring of nature, and in its fall rested on the string of coral
+suspended round her alabaster bosom.
+
+“My sweet Rosa,” observed Dr. Markwell, who had so unknowingly touched
+the chord of sympathy in her susceptible heart. “If I have roused a
+dormant and unpleasing recollection in your bosom, banish it at the
+shrine of my contrition, resume your charming wonted gaiety of heart,
+and by way of diverting the subject, will you shew Mr. St. Alban my
+prize carnation bed.”
+
+Rosa instantly caught up her parasol, and I followed her, like a
+second Adam; for, blessed with her society, that little spot of
+ground was paradise, and never shall I forget the combination and
+excess of feeling I at that moment experienced, as taking her soft
+hand, I pressed it to my lip, and drew it with familiar fond and timid
+perturbation through my proffered arm.
+
+Rosa led me to the blooming parterre, and here I soon discovered she
+was _mistress_ of _botany_, while I in return would have given worlds
+to convince her I was an equal _adept_ in the science of _love_. Her
+expatiation, which would have charmed a naturalist, was to me logic,
+whilst my head and heart were replete with a subject so different.
+
+I admired the carnations--but I admired the fair narratress of their
+beauties much more.
+
+“Those flowers are beautiful,” said I, pointing (I confess with a
+roguish intent) to a bed of heart’s-ease, one of which my innocent, my
+unsuspecting, companion stooped to gather and present me with.
+
+“Examine minutely the brilliant velvet of that purple leaf, Mr. St.
+Alban,” said she, “it’s a simple little flower, but it ranks high in my
+estimation.”
+
+“What, then, must it do in mine, charming Rosa, as a present from you?”
+replied I.
+
+“Oh, if you really admire them,” resumed the innocent Rosa, unconscious
+of my fallacious metaphor, “I’ll have a plot dug up, and send them you
+to-morrow morning, with pleasure.”
+
+At this portentous moment, a vagrant rose bush caught the robe of Rosa,
+and made her its momentary prisoner.
+
+“You are caught, Miss Fitzclarence,” said I, laughingly, “give me leave
+to extricate you, and I’ll punish the offender by divesting it of part
+of its beauty;” saying which, I cropped a beautiful rose, and placed it
+in her bosom.
+
+This badinage d’amour had, perchance, explained all I wished, if the
+appearance of my uncle, and the Rector, had not interfered.
+
+“Come, come, are you taking lessons on botany from your fair tutoress?”
+said my uncle, “if so, you may resume your studies at tea-time, as
+we shall pass our evening here by Dr. Markwell’s kind invitation--at
+present we’ll walk home.”
+
+“Adieu, Miss Fitzclarence,” said I, “we shall meet again e’er sun-set,
+and renew our pleasing and instructive theme.”
+
+“Come early,” said the soft voice of Rosa, as she closed the gate
+after us: nor was her look less inviting than her words, “come early,
+that we may renew our botanical researches e’er the shades of evening
+closes the flowers, if my worthy monitor does not deem it an improper
+amusement: for sure in _contemplating_ the sublimity of nature, we must
+at the same moment _adore_ the Creator of it.”
+
+“What sentiments that lovely girl possesses,” exclaimed my uncle, “she
+not only steals my heart, but my very soul--I love her already as a
+darling child, and I begin to feel every hour languid that is not
+passed in her company.”
+
+“Hold, Sir,” cried I, “don’t make me more enthusiastic than I am. If
+you behold her with _admiration_, what must I do?”
+
+“Why, love her most sincerely, no doubt,” said my uncle, “what more
+would you do?”
+
+“And what less can any mortal do who beholds her?” replied I, “but what
+will Dr. Markwell say?”
+
+“What will your father say, more likely,” answered my uncle.
+
+“Ah, my God,” cried I, “in consulting my own choice, I never thought of
+his dissent.”
+
+“But you don’t know he will dissent,” continued my uncle.
+
+“Alas! I fear it--and then again my prescribed fortune, subjoined to
+his caprice, makes me shudder at the reflection of my temerity--Rosa,
+too, an heiress, rich, beautiful, accomplished: may not her ideas
+soar to equal, or superior, possessions? she who might command a
+coronet--she, whom eastern idolators might worship, will she prefer and
+accept the humble St. Alban! No, no, there’s folly in the thought; I
+have no pretension--I feel I have none--nor dare I reveal them to my
+father, who would instantly crush my presumptive hopes.”
+
+“He shan’t crush them, by G--d,” said my uncle, vehemently, striking
+his stick against a cottage paling with such force, that a little
+yelping dog flew furiously to the gate, followed by a pretty little
+girl, who endeavoured to pacify the animal.
+
+“Fury! Fury!” cried she, “how dare you bark at his honour,” and she
+dropped a low curtsey.
+
+“What’s that you, Cicely?” said my uncle, “how is your mother, and the
+twins?”
+
+“Brave and charming, please your honour.”
+
+“And have you been to church?”
+
+“Yes, your honour.”
+
+“And where was the text?”
+
+Cicely repeated it fluently.
+
+“Good girl,” said I, giving her a shilling; the child’s bright eyes
+glistened, and she dropped me half a dozen curtseys. My uncle gave her
+something for her mother, with which Cicely and Fury re-entered the
+cottage.
+
+“Mark the effects of fidelity, civility, and truth, how each attain
+their own reward. The fidelity of the dog in retaliating the noise
+I made, thereby to preserve the property of which he knew himself
+guardian, caused the civil interference of Cicely, who by demonstrating
+the truth, in repeating the text, was rewarded by you, and thus,”
+continued my uncle, “out of evil cometh good, sure enough.”
+
+We soon after reached home, where Alice opened the hall-door to us,
+Geoffry being in the garden gathering our desert.
+
+“Lack-a-daisey! stars alive!” cried she, “Sir, what a heavenly-looking
+young lady Miss _Fitzthingembob_ is, surely: I knows no more about the
+sermont then if I’d been at Jericho, for I could attend to nothing, God
+forgive me--I never was so _onpious_ in my life; but Geoffry says I
+have committed no sin, for looking at, and admiring, a godly person is
+like unto being in an angel’s company, and that’s no harm.”
+
+“Alice,” cried my uncle, “you’re a woman of discernment: and I can tell
+you Miss Fitzclarence is as good as she is handsome; but don’t let the
+contemplation of her virtues make you forget your own--therefore, go
+and inspect my dinner concerns.”
+
+Alice withdrew.
+
+“The whole village is infected with the mania of admiration: men,
+women, and children,” said my uncle, “and as to you and I, I believe we
+are incurables.”
+
+“It’s a complaint that will bring few grist to Dr. Tonic’s mill,
+though,” replied I.
+
+“I shall banter him, however, upon it, you may depend,” said my uncle.
+
+Dinner was now served up; during which, it was a constant rule of my
+uncle’s never to enlarge on _family topics_, politics, or any private
+conversation, before _servants_, whom he always styled “telegraphs of
+mischief;” our topics, therefore, were confined to common occurrences,
+such as the wind and weather.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VIII.
+
+
+As soon as our desert was placed on table, Dr. Tonic, the formidable,
+rang at the gate: and, as usual, stalked into the room.
+
+“Fine day! hem--hem--how dy’e do?” and down he sat, wiping his bronze
+countenance.
+
+“Its excessive hot,” continued he; “I called to look at your
+barometer--mine’s up to ninety-two--how stands yours, eh, squire, eh?”
+
+“It hangs in the corner, I have not consulted it to-day, I have had
+better amusement,” replied my uncle; “what think you of our sermon this
+morning?”
+
+“Oh, very fair! very fair!--_long enough_, in all conscience.”
+
+“But not _so long_ as your _consience_, Mr. Doctor,” said my uncle, “it
+was one of Miss Fitzclarence’s I understand.”
+
+“Hey! what! hem, hem--one of Miss Fitzclarence’s _making_, did you
+say?” asked the Doctor, eagerly.
+
+“No,” replied my uncle, in the key F sharp, “I did not say any such
+thing: I said it was one of _her sermons_--but it does not follow that
+she _composed_ it; why, you’re mad: I only meant to observe, it was one
+of her choosing, and a finer or more sublime discourse, to the heart, I
+never heard: I won’t pretend to say how you might _feel_ it.”
+
+“Well, I hope he won’t tip us such a long one next Sunday: for I can
+assure you my beef was boiled to rags in consequence of it.”
+
+“Then I hope _as_ you fasted you prayed,” said my uncle.
+
+“I did,” replied the doctor, “for the _end_ of the sermon, but it did
+not avail.”
+
+“I don’t wonder at that,” said my uncle, “you know the _adage_ without
+explanation, I’m sure.”
+
+“How demure our new visitor sat, and how _loud_ she sung,” continued
+the doctor; “did you see Mrs. Deposit laughing behind her? for, egad,
+she’s kicked the skin off my wife’s shin, she was so diverted with the
+little girl’s piety.”
+
+“Poor _idiot_!” exclaimed my uncle taking a pinch of snuff, “unhappy
+lunatic!”
+
+“Idiot! lunatic!” repeated Dr. Tonic with astonishment, “who dy’e mean?
+what dy’e mean? how dy’e mean?”
+
+“I mean,” answered my uncle fiercely, “that Mrs. Deposit is an _idiot_
+to ridicule the pious deportment of the exemplary Miss Fitzclarence;
+and a _lunatic_ to expose her impious folly by laughing in a church:
+I’ll tell you what, Doctor, if you don’t blister her distemper, I shall
+turn physician _extraordinary_, _without fee_, and apply one myself the
+first time I see occasion.”
+
+“Hah! hah! hah!” chuckled the Doctor, “will you accept of a pot of my
+Spanish flies?”
+
+“No, thank you, I am already provided,” answered my uncle, looking very
+grave, “you may have occasion for all your stock to counteract the
+epidemic fever that reigns so contagious in the village.”
+
+“Fever! fever! what fever? I’ve heard of none,” cried the Doctor.
+
+“Poh!” cried my uncle, “how you attend to business: if you send your
+son Bob to feel Mrs. Deposit and Mrs. Fungus’s pulse, he’ll find
+them scorching alive with the _fever_ of _envy_--they’ll be good
+customers for your saline mixtures. Then there’s Mrs. Coniac, and Mrs.
+Henpeck, they must have _extra draughts_: likewise Mrs. Windfall, Mrs.
+Wau-Wau, Lady Flam, Widow Quiz, and Mrs. Dashwell, must all go on the
+_yellow_ sick list--aye, and even your daughters, Miss Wau-Wau, and
+Miss Macfriz, will be obliged to swallow pills in consequence of the
+infection; for, depend upon it, they’ve all caught the distemper--I
+give you joy, you’ll have a long job of it, for it’s a devilish
+incurable complaint.--Now, as to Lady Lustre, Mrs. Downright, Mrs.
+Prolix, Mrs. Markwell, the Rector, myself, Victor, Alice, Rangewell,
+Geoffry, and all the villagers, must have a different remedy, for the
+whole squad are affected with an extreme opposite attack, stiled a
+sort of _love_ fever, no ways prejudicial to the female sex, but very
+curable in most males. Now, Doctor, if you can exert your skill by
+curing these _yellow fever_ gentry, you’ll establish your celebrity for
+ever.”
+
+The Doctor could only laugh, for he had no words to invalidate the
+argument.
+
+“I’ll tell you what,” said my uncle, filling the Doctor a bumper of
+bucelis, “if Miss Fitzclarence could but innoculate us all with her
+virtues, as you vaccinate the parish, what a new and happy set of
+beings we should appear--come, drink her health, “Fitzclarence for
+ever!”
+
+“Oh, Lord no,” said the Doctor, “Fitzclarence as long as she pleases,
+but not _for ever_--consider she’s a d--d fine girl, she must not die
+an old maid.”
+
+“Not for the world,” replied my uncle, “though sometimes there’s little
+difference between a woman’s _driving monkies_, or leading apes.”
+
+“You’re satirical, Sir--you’re too severe, upon my soul,” cried the
+Doctor.
+
+“England’s motto for that, Doctor,” replied my uncle, “I said no
+harm--I aimed no arrow, fly as it might; you grow touchy in your old
+age, high mettled chicks have quick pulses, they tell me.”
+
+“Yes,” said the Doctor, “and old game cocks have _spurs_, I’ll assure
+you, that can strike pretty _home_ occasionally; talking of game
+cocks, by the bye, puts me in mind of that _old game dorking_ mother
+Henpeck--you passed the day there, I heard, yesterday--you was _well
+entertained_, no doubt; mice don’t starve in that cupboard, hem!
+hem! I’m going up to the Rectory this afternoon, with my daughter
+Elizetta, just by way of introduction so as to establish an intimate
+footing between her and Miss Fitzclarence, charming clever girl--an
+acquaintance worth cultivating--gain something by it, perhaps.”
+
+“Why, you’re sure you can _lose nothing_,” cried my uncle, peevishly,
+and much vexed to hear of his intended visit to the Rectory. “I dare
+say,” continued he, “Dr. Markwell and the ladies will be out: we were
+to have taken tea, and a walk together.”
+
+“What, here! taken tea here?” enquired the Doctor.
+
+“_Here_, or _there_, no matter which,” replied my uncle, “but at all
+events it was a reciprocal engagement, which makes me say I think
+you’ll not find them at home.”
+
+“Well, we can but go and see,” said the Doctor, nothing dismayed, “if
+we don’t find them at home, we shall conclude they are here, and we can
+_join_ your walk in the evening, you know.”
+
+“No: I don’t know any such thing,” answered my uncle, “it’s an equal
+chance we don’t walk at all; I may not be inclined, perhaps: and they,
+I’m sure, will have too much good manners to leave me at home alone.”
+
+“Of course, of course,” rejoined the Doctor, looking very foolish
+at not receiving an expected invitation to join the tea party, as he
+imagined, and rising precipitately from his chair, “we’ll set off and
+try our luck, however,” cried he, “so, good day, gentlemen,” and away
+he went.
+
+“Deuce take the man,” exclaimed my uncle, “how he perplexes and
+counteracts all my plans: now I won’t go to Markwell’s: I’ll send
+Geoffry to say so: all the delightful and edifying converse I
+anticipated will be marred by his scandalous babbling larum, and before
+breakfast to-morrow the whole village will know what we all _said_,
+_did_, and even _thought_, with a correct catalogue of how many pieces
+of bread and butter each person eat, and the precise attitude in which
+Miss Fitzclarence sipped her tea: therefore, I won’t go, Victor--I
+can’t bear it--I shall be out of temper all night.”
+
+“I shall be greatly disappointed, Sir,” said I--“don’t send Geoffry:
+let us take a walk up, at all risks.”
+
+“Well! well! have your own way,” replied my uncle, “but as Tonic and
+his chit are gone off, full tilt, I shan’t stir this hour to come.”
+
+“Rosa will _expect_ to see us, at all events,” said I in the mildest,
+humblest, tone I could assume.
+
+“Most likely,” rejoined my uncle, “and _you_ expect to see Rosa--yes,
+yes--I comprehend.”
+
+I now dared not say another word about it, and different topics took
+their turn, till the irksome hour had elapsed; and, as I began to
+fidget on my chair, and draw my watch, my uncle caught the hint of my
+impatience, and calling for his hat and cane, instantly set off for
+the Rectory, where we expected to find the Tonics, but to our great
+satisfaction Dr. Markwell informed us, they had called and left their
+card in the absence of the family; for, as there was no afternoon
+service, they had strolled with Rosa to shew her the adjacent prospects
+that bounded the village, and make some calls of cottage benevolence,
+in the Rector’s usual way; and in one of these visits the Tonics missed
+them, and no doubt returned very sullenly home again, keeping an
+Argus’s eye on my uncle’s gate, to see the expected tea-visitors, while
+we were most happily employed in the romantic seclusion of the Rectory:
+my uncle and Dr. Markwell commenting over Macklin’s superb bible, with
+which a certain bishop had presented him, and Rosa and I botanizing
+till the evening dews compelled us to decline our amusement, and
+commence another theme.
+
+As we approached the parlour-window, we distinctly heard the gentlemen
+in earnest conversation; and, in order not to interrupt them, we
+returned to a little romantic sort of hermitage, on which the
+resplendent moon-beams played in full lustre through the acacia boughs,
+lightly waving in the evening breeze, as the dulcet nightingale twitted
+her sombre lullaby, in cadence broken, or irregularly sinking to repose
+within her foilaged nest.
+
+The hour, the scene, the opportunity, was most auspicious; we took a
+seat--my arm encircled the waist of Rosa, whose soft blue eyes were
+fixed upon the beauteous evening star.
+
+“Behold,” cried she, “yon glorious planet--lovely resplendent gem of
+heaven--’tis Venus.”
+
+“Queen of love,” answered I, abruptly, “whose _celestial shadow_ I
+_there_ behold, whilst I _here_ clasp the _terrestrial substance_”--and
+what effervent rhapsody followed, I shall suppress, and leave to the
+reader’s imagination, merely observing, before Rosa Fitzclarence, and
+Victor St. Alban, quitted the hermitage, he had sworn eternal love
+by the light of the moon, and sacred fidelity, pure as the lustre of
+the evening star, the celestial witnesses of his fervent vows scarce
+breathed in whisper, e’er the voice of Dr. Markwell broke upon our ear,
+and hastening from the seat, the beauteous Rosa, whose trembling hand
+rested on my arm, close to her palpitating heart, entered the room,
+suffused in blushes, to which I rapturously felt I had given birth, as
+the candles beamed full upon her face, where love’s temerity did not
+permit him to discern a frown of disapproval.
+
+Dr. Mark well now requested Rosa to favour us with some of the
+exquisite airs from the Messiah, which she executed on the piano in
+such masterly style, that Handel might have stood entranced with
+admiration.
+
+“Rosa makes her piano talk, positively,” said the amiable and charming
+Mrs. Markwell.
+
+“Yes, indeed, it speaks to the heart pretty eloquently,” replied my
+uncle: “I’ll tell you what, young lady,” continued he, “you have a
+great deal to answer for; it is not clear to me, but all the epidemics
+in the village will be laid to your charge: you are a very _dangerous_
+young lady--you rob us of our hearts”--my uncle paused, leered at me,
+and Rosa’s cheek was scarlet with hermitage conviction, as he thus
+continued: “Yes, you make us invalidate our understanding, by your
+superior knowledge and perfections; you kill all the women with envy,
+and you deal daggers among the men;” then, turning jocosely to myself,
+and looking earnestly at Dr. Markwell, “guilty, or not guilty, what say
+you both? behold the culprit smiling at her crimes.”
+
+“Guilty! guilty!” replied I, emphatically.
+
+“And am I not allowed to make my defence?” asked Rosa, “unconscious as
+I am of conviction.”
+
+“Your condemnation is general--your actions speak for themselves,”
+cried my uncle, who had fixed himself at her elbow, and was
+enthusiastically pressing her hand between his.
+
+“Then I must bow to the decision of my jurors,” continued Rosa, “but
+I hope, if I should hereafter be accused of that heinous crime called
+vanity, I shall find friends in court to allow every lenity for the
+offence, when they reflect on the source from whence it could alone
+originate: I have never been used to adulation from my birth, and it’s
+a science I cannot inculcate.”
+
+“Pardon me, my child, it’s a baneful weed that does not grow in our
+village,” said the Rector, “suffer me, for the first time, to correct
+your opinion on that head as erroneous, for I am bold to say, those
+friends you now behold are no adulators.”
+
+“No, by heavens,” replied my uncle, “and I trust _time_ and
+circumstance will convince Miss Fitzclarence of it.”
+
+“It’s in vain to contend the point,” answered Rosa, extending a lilly
+hand to my uncle and the Rector, “thus, thus, accept my grateful thanks
+for your good opinion, which I shall hope ever to cherish and deserve
+in a still more eminent degree.”
+
+“And won’t you subjoin mine, Miss Fitzclarence?” asked I, extending my
+hand.
+
+“Could Mr. St. Alban suppose himself excluded in those sentiments of
+gratitude? ah, if he did, he little knew the heart of Rosa.”
+
+At this unguarded moment I seized her hand, I pressed it to my daring
+lip, but Rosa gently withdrawing it, awaked my reverie, as did the
+reprehension of my uncle, who observed I was a more gallant fellow than
+he supposed me to be.
+
+We soon after partook sandwiches, and at the sober hour of ten left
+Rosa, and the worthy family, to their private and regular system of
+evening prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. IX.
+
+
+“You had a fine long chat with Rosa, in the garden,” said my uncle, as
+we walked home.
+
+“Yes,” replied I, “such a one as will _never_ be forgotten by me.”
+
+“That’s a mighty emphatical _never_,” repeated my uncle.
+
+“It is, however, a reality,” said I.
+
+“Why, what conversation can have made so deep an impression on your
+mind?” continued he.
+
+“The language of the heart, the extacies of the soul, which in the
+moment of impulse, I revealed to Rosa.”
+
+“You have?” said my uncle, grasping my arm tighter.
+
+“Yes, Sir, most solemnly, I swear it--and never will I for a moment be
+guilty of duplicity to you--by your counsel I will ever abide; and, if
+I attain the accomplishment of my hopes, ’tis to you _only_ I shall be
+indebted for the earthly bliss I may enjoy.”
+
+“Noble boy,” exclaimed my uncle; “I blame no part of your conduct but
+the precipitancy of your explanation.”
+
+“But do you reflect on the torments of suspence, to counterbalance
+that precipitancy? do you consider the priority of _rivalship_? do you
+think it possible any man can behold Rosa Fitzclarence with a heart of
+indifference? and may not that heart be devoted in a moment, whilst I,
+through the idle prepossession of diffidence, became its unalterable
+victim, and lead a life of despair.”
+
+My uncle uttered one of his deepest groans, but made no reply--and by
+this time we reached home.
+
+“Success and happiness attend you, my boy,” said my uncle, as he closed
+the door of his apartment, with his eyes suffused in tears. “Don’t be
+too sanguine, I’ll make a point of conversing with Dr. Markwell on the
+subject, from whom I shall gain much information, as he is the intimate
+friend of the guardian who consigned Rosa to his protection, at the
+period of whose return from the continent all her concerns will be
+settled, and she becomes her own mistress, if with a disengaged heart,
+vive l’amour, and Victor St. Alban, if----”
+
+“For heaven’s sake, not another word, that _if_ is dagger sufficient,”
+cried I, closing my door to press my pillow, and ruminate on hopes
+and fears, for certainty of her sentiments I had none; Dr. Markwell’s
+interruption had precluded even the most faultering syllable from
+escaping her lips--time, and patience, were the only alternatives, and
+I was compelled to abide by them.
+
+With sleepless eyes, and feverish anxiety, I left my thorny restless
+pillow the moment I heard the domestics arranging the house, and
+without knowing why, directed my wandering footsteps to the Rectory,
+without reflecting on the impropriety of such an early intrusion--but
+rosy-footed love would not be checked in his career, though the path
+had been strewn with thorns, and I found myself at the gate before I
+knew I was half way there.
+
+I gazed earnestly around: Rosa’s chamber-window was thrown open, but
+the closed shutters of the good Rector denoted he was still in the
+embraces of Morpheus. My heart beat high--no Rosa made her appearance.
+A cow-boy advanced towards the spot--’twas little Peter, the gardner’s
+son, who worked for Dr. Markwell: the boy was alternately whistling the
+cows along, and munching a handful of cold suet pudding.
+
+“Do you know Miss Rosa?” asked I.
+
+“Ees, Sir.”
+
+“Have you seen her this morning?”
+
+“Ees, Sir,” and he took another mouthful of pudding.
+
+“Can you tell where she is?”
+
+“Noa, Sir.”
+
+“How long ago did you see her?”
+
+“A main good bit,”--and down went another piece of pudding, which Peter
+regarded more than my enquiry.
+
+“Tell me,” continued I, taking out all the halfpence I had, and putting
+them in his spare hand, “tell me where to find her.”
+
+Peter stuffed the last morsel of pudding into his mouth, eyed the
+halfpence, which he pocketted, and half choaking, with a variety of
+faces to clear his mouth, and pointing with his smutty finger down the
+opposite lane, exclaimed, “yonder be’es leady a-coming.”
+
+Away I flew, and met her in a moment; she had been herberising on the
+heath that bounded one extremity of the village, and had collected in a
+little willow basket, a variety of wild blossoms, which she smilingly
+told me were for her pupil, St. Alban’s edification.
+
+We soon entered into a more interesting conversation, for I persuaded
+her to return to the heath, where, unheard and unseen, our intercourse
+was sacred, and in this sequestered spot I again renewed the subject of
+my thoughts.
+
+Rosa heard me with attention: her ingenuous lip avowed her heart had
+no prior prepossession, neither had her guardian any dominion over her
+at the moment of her coming of age, but that the high estimation in
+which she held Dr. Markwell, from the character represented of him by
+her guardian, would never permit her to dispose of her hand without his
+approbation, as she beheld him with parental love and reverence.
+
+“Allow me time,” said she, with one of her angelic smiles, “to learn
+the virtues of St. Alban, that I may assure myself my heart is no
+truant to his precepts, and by that means experience, in various
+shapes, will convince him if the _bauble_ he seeks is _worthy_ his
+acceptance.”
+
+I was now the happiest of human beings, and when I parted with Rosa, at
+the Rectory gate, I learned with rapture we were to meet again at Lady
+Lustre’s in the evening, where Rosa extorted a faithful promise I would
+not render myself particular, as the embarrassment would cause her much
+displeasure, for the observant eye of my uncle, on such occasion, would
+expose what she most wished to conceal, “for I know not why,” said she,
+“but whenever he looks at me my heart _trembles_, and my _burning_
+cheek seems to indicate some _unfathomable reason_.”
+
+“And is it not equally strange,” said I, “that the sight of you always
+creates _similar_ sensations in him; but I can in some measure account
+for his perturbation, by your _similitude_ to a lady to whom he once
+paid his addresses in the early part of life, and whom he loved with
+that degree of fervour, that he never suffered any other women to
+supplant her: thus, when he gazes on your polygraphic form, wonder no
+longer at his starting tear, his heart-felt sigh, for he loves you as
+his child.”
+
+“Good heavens,” said Rosa, “how singular; I almost wish you had’nt told
+me, I shall now feel doubly embarrassed--good old gentleman, how much I
+pity him; his sensibility must be exquisite, and I am the unfortunate
+cause of perpetually rousing its dormant tranquillity.”
+
+The village clock struck nine--we bade each other a hasty adieu--and
+in a few minutes I reached home, just as my uncle had descended to
+breakfast, who, like myself, had passed a sleepless night. Disdaining
+an iota of duplicity towards my uncle, I frankly told him where, and
+with whom, I had been; the topic of our conversation, the surprise of
+Rosa at the explanation of her resemblance; and, in short, all that had
+past, soliciting his advice how to proceed towards the attainment of
+my hopes, as I felt as much awe in the presence of Dr. Mark well, as
+Rosa did in that of my uncle; he, however assured me, I had nothing to
+fear, if the worthy Rector was the only impediment: “but I advise you
+to write to your father,” continued he, “explain the affair, dutifully
+implore his consent to your happiness, and tell him, if liberality has
+not power to draw _his_ purse-strings, love and nature have sufficient
+influence with your _churlish old misanthropical_ uncle, to induce him
+to reward virtue, and constitute happiness, with the contents of _his_,
+even to his last shilling; or, though he died a bankrupt, you now know
+my sentiments Victor, therefore express your own to your father in what
+terms you think proper, and if he disproves your choice, lay the blame
+at _my_ door.”
+
+“My gratitude, Sir,” replied I--but my voice faultered, I felt the
+momentary sensation of strangulation seize my throat--I burst into
+tears like an infant--nor could I have finished the sentence for
+worlds, had even the loss of Rosa, at that moment, been the consequence
+of my silence.
+
+“Keep your gratitude, my boy, till it is more requisite--it’s always a
+current coin in every country, and when you forget to enrich yourself
+by its possession, you will be _poor_ indeed; liberally disburse what
+you can spare, but reserve a portion for the hour of exigence; retire
+after breakfast to my study, and dispatch your letter to London.”
+
+“Not till you have perused its contents, Sir,” replied I.
+
+“That as you please,” answered he, “but here comes Mr. Prolix, on some
+tenantry business, I will give him audience while you retire.”
+
+Away I brushed, and never pen glided smoother on such a subject. My
+uncle highly approved its effusions, and the portentous letter was
+dispatched two hours after in the postman’s bag, much to my joy and
+anticipated hope.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. X.
+
+
+We had scarce sat half an hour talking over the pleasure we expected
+in our afternoon visit, when Dr. Tonic called to inform us his family
+had received an invitation from Lady Lustre, to meet Miss Fitzclarence,
+assuring us Mr. Earwig, and Mr. Munchausen were to be of the party.
+
+“Humph!” ejaculated my uncle, “I hope Mrs. Deposit won’t be there also.”
+
+“Oh, no, Lady Lustre and her don’t set their horses,” replied the
+Doctor.
+
+“I should think not,” said my uncle; “sin and innocence, black and
+white, snow and sunshine, are not more opposite.”
+
+“Mrs. Deposit’s a devilish clever woman, though,” continued Dr. Tonic.
+
+“_Devilish_ enough, I’ll allow,” rejoined my uncle; “but if, like Sir
+Andrew Analize, you search your dictionary for the explanation of the
+word _clever_, you’ll trace no analogy to Mrs. Deposit’s perfections;
+but, if you look to the word _craft_, there you have it in full force.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” said the Doctor, “she must not come here for a character, I
+find.”
+
+“O, yes, she may,” answered my uncle, “I’d give her a _just_ one at
+any time.”
+
+“Well,” continued the Doctor, “I can only say, your nephew ranks
+high in her estimation--she talks of nobody else, calls him the
+Apollo Belvidere in every company, and makes him the constant theme
+of her discourse, and is to my knowledge now filling up her cards of
+invitation for a grand route, on purpose to sport your paragonized
+nephew.”
+
+“She may spare herself that trouble,” replied my uncle, “my nephew
+won’t sport himself in the _Calypsian_ grotto, you may depend upon it.”
+
+“What, not go?” fiercely answered the Doctor, “Oh, fie! fie! you can’t
+refuse--consider your nephew is on his preferment.”
+
+“No such thing,” said my uncle, “he’s already _preferred_.”
+
+“What?” resumed the Doctor, sharply, “you don’t presume to tell us,
+Mr. Victor bids defiance to the fascinating charms of all our village
+belles, and has brought down a heart in chains?”
+
+“Yes, I do,” cried my uncle, “I pronounce it a _captive_; tell the
+girls from me, though Victor St. Alban’s form is free, his heart is
+fettered, in indissoluble links, which even the all powerful charms of
+Miss Fitzclarence can _never break_.”
+
+“Ah! ah! say you so--hem, hem! I have my doubts you’re playing the
+rogue with us,” said the Doctor, visibly chagrined; “at that rate
+_my_ daughters have no hopes, and I promise he’s no small favourite
+of Elizetta’s: I’m afraid we shall have a sad female contest when
+this comes to be known; you’ll have much to answer for, squire, by
+introducing such a dangerous object.”
+
+“Like enough,” cried my uncle, “if girls will build castles in the
+air, and grasp at shadows, they must thank themselves for their
+disappointment.”
+
+“Well, but at all events, you will certainly go to Deposit’s gala?”
+said the Doctor.
+
+“I _pledge_ you my word I will not,” resumed my uncle, “I’ll _pawn_
+my honour, unredeemable, if you catch me there; and as those are
+very comprehensive expressions to the lady in question, you may make
+the town larum of your tongue, if you like it, and disburse the news
+wholesale, retail, or for exportation.”
+
+“Hah! hah! hah!” cried the Doctor, “I can win a high bet at the Three
+Pigeons to-night, if I choose to take in the knowing ones: what dy’e
+think, now, was the odds at the Dolphin on Saturday night, that your
+nephew was in love with Miss Fitzclarence? egad, Sir, I was laid
+twenty guineas to five--but dam’me I had my doubts, I little thought
+how the game stood.”
+
+“Aye, aye! you’re _gammoned_, sure enough, Doctor--e’ent he,
+Victor?--have I not spoke the truth?”
+
+“You certainly have, Sir,” replied I.
+
+“Then I’m dumb: I have not a word to offer; but I suppose I may
+_advance_ what I’ve heard, from such undoubted authority?” said the
+Doctor.
+
+“O yes, you may _advance_ it on _full speed_ round the village,
+we shan’t _retreat_, depend upon it,” replied my uncle; “you may
+administer it as you please to the men, and make it into _boluses_ for
+the _ladies_.”
+
+“Uncle,” said I, laughing, “why, at that rate, you’ll physic the whole
+parish.”
+
+“So much the better for the Doctor, he knows how to dose’em: it’s
+an ill wind that blows nobody good, and I’ll bet a hundred, that
+in consequence of this unexpected gust, Mrs. Deposit’s weathercock
+principles will shift completely opposite, and the Apollo of Belvidere
+be transformed, in a twinkling, to a dæmon of abhorrence.”
+
+“Never talk of the devil with a _doctor_ at your elbow,” exclaimed
+Tonic, rising from his chair.
+
+“You’re right, Tonic! you’re right!” said my uncle, “I forgot myself at
+the moment; I did not intend it as a lancet touch, I assure you, so if
+it made an incision, it must have been on your conscience.”
+
+The Doctor forced a hah, hah! and, wishing us good morning, bundled
+off with his budget of news.
+
+“Now, where’s your flying colours, Victor?” asked my uncle, “now,
+what’s the price of _gudgeons_? who says an old sportsman can’t net
+game?”
+
+“And not only _net_, but dexterously _make game_ that nets itself,”
+replied I.
+
+“Yes,” said my uncle, “I’m mistaken if my opthalmic invention has not
+blinded the whole parish, and annihilated all suspicion from your
+attentions to Rosa, which was the baneful village hydra I wanted to
+crush, and I think my plan will now repel all the arrows of sarcasm
+that were flying against you: so that you’ll neither be plagued by the
+women, nor bantered by the men.”
+
+I confessed myself highly indebted to his ingenuity, and the remainder
+of the day passed on without any peculiar occurrence, till the
+appointed hour of Lady Lustre’s engagement called our most willing
+attendance, save the mortifying idea of meeting the Tonic family.
+
+“Be cautious, Victor,” said my uncle, as we entered the park gate, “be
+cautious and reserved--remember ’tis the request of Rosa--yonder, I
+descry, the Tonic’s watching our approach from the window.”
+
+My heart bounded as we entered the drawing room--but the Rector’s
+family were not arrived; Munchausen was playing off his artillery with
+Misses Tonic’s and Lady Lustre, who had never been in his company but
+once, and was not aware of his rhodomontade: thought him a pleasant,
+entertaining, well-read man, and in consequence of her encouraging
+politeness, subjoined to his own brazen effrontery, he was now paying
+his adulative respects, _self-invited_ by an accidental call of
+convalescent enquiry; king of the company, and carbonading the poor
+doctor into a stew, one moment while he wound him round his little
+finger the next, in the most ludicrous style; and Mr. Earwig was
+buzzing in Lady Lustre’s ear an account of the successful progress of
+a certain charity, to which most respectable institution he had the
+honour to belong, and on which establishment he was setting down her
+ladyship’s name as a new member of that laudable society--“charity
+covereth a multitude of sins,” exclaimed he, putting his tablet and
+pencil into his pocket.
+
+“The mantle of charity ought to be elastic, in my opinion,” said
+Munchausen, “for if it was as large as the flag of Victory, that
+reached from the Old Bailey to St. Paul’s, as the covering of Lord
+Nelson’s virtues, it would not be half big enough to cover _some folk’s
+sins_.”
+
+“Probably you mean your own,” said the pedantic man of charity, “shall
+I lend you my Dutch wrapper, as an additional covering? he! he! he!”
+
+“No, thank you! thank you! you want it yourself,” replied Munchausen;
+“beside, to tell you the truth, I don’t like the _lining_, it’s too
+light and _flimsey_, the outside is a _specious sample_, but the
+_inside part_ won’t answer my purposes--_seem warm_, and _be warm_, I
+don’t admire gauze blankets--it’s also got a _double facing_, and that
+I dislike.”
+
+“That is the very reason why I offered it,” answered Mr. Earwig, “I
+thought it would suit you exactly.”
+
+At this moment of controversy, Rosa and Mrs. Markwell, on the arm of
+the Rector, approached through the elm vista.
+
+Munchausen, rushing to the window, on the intelligence, and applying
+his glass to his quizzical eye, exclaimed, “there comes beauty, and
+divinity--ye Gods preserve me from corruption! what a charming girl.”
+
+“What a speech from a married man,” observed the Doctor.
+
+“Poh,” replied Munchausen, “it was a public invocation to the gods: if
+any married man makes _no worse speech_ in _private_, than I have done
+publicly, he need not ask _you_ to blush for him, Doctor.”
+
+By this time Rosa entered the room, and the exercise of walking had
+suffused such a roseate blush on her angelic countenance, I never saw
+her look so enchanting.
+
+Lady Lustre received her with her usual engaging urbanity, and placed
+her by her side on the same sopha. Oh, how I contemplated her lovely
+form, reclining its elegant symmetry full on my opposite gaze, one
+blooming rose adorned (if possible) her beauteous bosom, whilst another
+was pinned into a chip hat that shaded one of the finest faces nature
+ever moulded; her robe was the vesture of simplicity, formed of plain
+white sarsnet.
+
+“Dam’me,” exclaimed Munchausen, in a whisper to me, “I can’t sit it,
+by G--d--I never saw such a d--d fine girl in my life--what a dog-day
+picture of contemplation--are you, for God’s sake, transfixed in silent
+adoration? or are you an inhabitant of Mont-Blanc, whom nothing but
+a salamander could melt into feeling? Zounds, man, the famous Mirza
+Abdallah has not such a woman in his Haram; look how the old Doctor
+_screws_ his _funny_ eye at her: do also observe the swelling envy of
+the daughters, Tonics, _versus_ Hygiæ--hey, my good fellow, did you
+ever see such an angel?--I’m sure I, who am in the constant habits
+in London of seeing and gallanting thousands at your _ram-cram_ city
+balls, never! no, never! saw her equal!”
+
+“She is extremely handsome,” replied I, non-chalantely, “and I dare
+say you will presently be as much charmed with her conversation as her
+person.”
+
+“Oh! that I was five and twenty,” exclaimed Munchausen.
+
+“Why, then,” replied Mr. Earwig (who had stuck himself by the side
+of Rosa, peering close in her face, and offering her his _mocaba
+tabatiere_) “you would be just half your age.”
+
+“Is there any occasion to remind a man of his most formidable enemy?
+the personal innovation of that hoary monarch, _Mister Time_, are quite
+mortifying enough, without talking of _winter_ while the tree is in
+_bloom_,” said Munchausen.
+
+“I say, Earwig,” cried the witty Doctor, “Munchausen’s a pretty
+_full grown blossom_, methinks; I suppose he’s German cousin to the
+_evergreen_ family--hah! hah! hah!”
+
+“No, no, he is the _genuine hereditary_ great-great-great grandson to
+the celebrated Baron Munchausen--an absolute descendant, in every sense
+of the word, his matchless polygraph in thought, _word_, and deed.”
+
+“Pray, Sir, who might furnish you with my pedigree?” asked Munchausen.
+
+“Yourself, Sir--you explore it to every body.”
+
+Lady Lustre smiled, and so did Rosa, but Munchausen remained silent.
+
+“I had a visit from Mr. Faddle this morning,” observed her ladyship.
+
+“What,” interrupted the Doctor, “did he bring your ladyship a receipt
+to make a plumb-pudding?--hem! hem! hem!”
+
+“No, indeed, he did not,” replied Lady Lustre, “he called only with a
+polite enquiry after my health--I invited him to join our party, and
+meet Miss Fitzclarence, but he’s so wonderfully bashful, he declined.”
+
+“I don’t wonder he’s a _coward_, where there’s such an object of
+_danger_,” said Munchausen; “what think you, Mr. Victor?”
+
+“Oh,” rejoined the Doctor, “I won’t allow Mr. Victor any judgment
+in the business; Mr. Faddle might feel himself in eminent danger;
+Munchausen has a heart to _lose_, but Mr. Victor has ne’er a one to
+_lose_ or _find_ in this village--he is no longer the ladies’ Apollo
+Belvidere, but their invulnerable Achilles; some London _elegante_ has
+purloined the treasure, it seems, and sent us the casket.”
+
+At this speech, Rosa, whose eyes had been fixed on Dr. Tonic, reverted
+them on me, with such a glance of enquiry, as I would have given worlds
+to explain, as the Doctor thus continued his ill-timed aggravating
+discourse.
+
+“Yes, yes, Mr. Victor, we shall be aware how you play the rogue amongst
+us--shield your hearts, ladies--beware of the archer--I’m not in
+joke--Nunkey will vouch for the truth--won’t you Mr. Tweazy?”
+
+“I never suffer any body to catechise me but the _parson_,” replied my
+uncle, “if Dr. Markwell asks me that question to-morrow morning, I
+shall reveal the _truth_: but as private concerns should be privately
+discussed, we’ll drop the subject, as I’m no pupil of buffoonery,
+and I presume my nephew does not mean to obtain a wife by _public_
+election--but in case it should be necessary, you’ll give him your
+vote, and canvass for him, into the bargain, won’t you, Doctor?”
+
+“It depends upon the object in view,” replied Tonic (leering at Rosa,
+whose cheek had actually lost its roseate tint, and appeared much
+embarrassed) “if Miss Fitzclarence was the point of contention, I’d
+hold up both hands.”
+
+“Oh, Miss Fitzclarence’s charms will canvass for her, without your
+assistance,” replied Mr. Earwig; “when she stands candidate, it will
+be a hollow election, without bribery or corruption, depend upon it.”
+
+“Oh, don’t turn match-maker, Doctor Tonic, it’s a very unthankful
+office,” said Lady Lustre; “I dare say,” continued she, “if Mr. St.
+Alban has lost his heart, those who possess it will guard it with great
+care and fidelity.”
+
+“Of that your ladyship, I am well convinced,” replied I, fixing my
+stedfast eye on that of Rosa, which at the instant meeting, spoke
+eloquent for the beauteous blush remantled on her cheek.
+
+“Come, come, gentleman, a truce to what don’t concern the moment;
+general love is as nauseating as an emetic, while mutual love belongs
+only to the disquisition of two, and is a palatable potion of _syrup of
+roses_ mixed with _extract of thorns_,” said Lady Lustre.
+
+“I wish to my soul, parson Faddle was here to pop down that receipt,”
+cried Munchausen, “I’ll invent a few _nong-tong-paw_ dishes the next
+time I see him; I’ll furnish him with a natty collection, I warrant me,
+if he loves receipts: pray, what sort of a sermon does he dish up as
+he’s so clever at cooking?”
+
+“Oh, a very digestable one,” replied Dr. Markwell, “but, my dear Sir,
+no reflections on the cloth, I can’t allow that, we must call another
+topic.”
+
+“We have discussed the two most divine upon earth, viz. Love and
+Religion,” answered Munchausen.
+
+“Suppose we drop both, and call another,” said Lady Lustre, “satirical
+subjects are always dangerous.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XI.
+
+
+A walk round the grounds was now proposed, and most readily assented
+to by me, who longed to speak to Rosa; but having no hopes of
+accomplishing it, evasive of the argus eyes of the Misses Tonics, I
+remained in the rear of the pedestrian group, and hastily scribbling
+the following lines with my pencil, I determined giving them to her as
+the moment of opportunity served: the billet run thus:--“Doubt all
+you hear from Tonic relative to St. Alban’s _engaged_ heart--’tis only
+Rosa’s, imperviously veiled to mislead the babbler, by the ingenuity
+of my uncle; meet me at the Rectory gate, to-morrow morning, at seven,
+where I will explain all.” I now mixed with the group, and crossing one
+of the Chinese bridges, over which a willow hung in rich profusion, and
+occasioned us to pass singly, I slipped it into her hand, and she as
+dexterously consigned it to her pocket.
+
+Willing to unfold the secret to her inspection, I turned the
+conversation on epigrams, charades, enigmas, &c. observing I was
+certain Miss Fitzclarence could favour the company with some, either of
+her own production or selection. This roused the mettle of Miss Tonic,
+who drew out her pocket-book, and read several.
+
+I touched the elbow of Rosa, requesting her to search her’s.
+
+“As a proof I have no such thing,” replied she, “here’s my repository,
+you’re welcome to convince yourself, it retains no secrets.”
+
+“But some scrap of paper, in your pocket, may contain a thing of the
+kind?” and I looked so earnestly in her face, that she instantly
+comprehended me, and taking the arm of Miss Tonic, I lead her away for
+a moment, to facilitate the inspection of Rosa, whose eye glanced over
+the contents of the billet in a moment, and she joined us instantly,
+enquiring if I had solved the enigma.
+
+“Have you?” said I, “as you stood musing under that tulip tree?”
+
+“O, yes,” replied she smiling, “I think I _have_--but if Miss Tonic
+will favour we with another sight of it, I shall be more competent.”
+
+I was now satisfied the telegraph had answered in unison, and all was
+right--Rosa gave the proper solution to Miss Tonic, who declared she
+was a witch.
+
+Munchausen had by this time arrived at the famous tulip tree, (under
+which Rosa had perused my billet), on the curious shaped leaf of
+which, he was holding an elaborate argument, observing, that those
+leaves he saw in Italy were so _large_, that he always made use of
+them for _saddle-cloths_, being a cool and elegant ornament for his
+thorough-bred filly; he had also, in very hot weather, caused some
+of them to be sown together with _vine tendrils_, to form him a
+_counterpane_, which had a very novel effect.
+
+“Novel enough:--hem!--hem!” cried the Doctor.
+
+“It was an _invention_ of _my own_,” resumed Munchausen.
+
+“Nobody doubts it,” said Mr. Earwig, “you’re one of the unaccountables.”
+
+“Oh, hang the fool who has no invention,” replied Munchausen, “I would
+not give a farthing for a man who could not hoax a whole parish--aye,
+and make them treat him with a rump, and dozen, for his ingenuity
+afterwards, without finding it out.”
+
+“That must be no easy task,” observed Dr. Markwell.
+
+“Nothing more easy, begging your reverence’s pardon, than to take in
+the _flats_,” answered Munchausen: “it’s nothing, when you’re used to
+it, it really becomes natural, and familiar.”
+
+“To constant practitioners it may,” assumed Dr. Markwell, who began
+to suspect he had an adept at his elbow, towards whom it would be
+nesessary to keep a very reserved conduct, to prevent those glaring
+impositions on his understanding, which he perceived Munchausen was
+practising on the credulity of others.
+
+Munchausen next peeped into the music rotunda, a most spacious
+and elegant structure lately finished, and here he spied, Miss
+Fitzclarence, on bended knee, in the whimsical attitude of an imploring
+statue, to favour the company with a song, with which the dulcet
+warbler instantly complied, diffusing universal admiration, and
+throwing Munchausen into extatics; he swore by every heathen divinity,
+that the Mara, the Billington, the Catalani, were a trio of _ravens_,
+compared to her melody; that she lived upon nightingale’s eggs, and
+that Apollo only could have been her music-master.
+
+Rosa laughed at his panegyric, and we strolled on to the Gothic arch,
+which Munchausen pretending to measure with his cane, pronounced the
+one lately erected in his park to be five feet higher, supporting on
+its summit a colossal statue, in highly preserved bronze.
+
+“Why, not your own image _executed_ in _brass_?” asked Mr. Earwig.
+
+“Ah, why not, indeed,” said the Doctor.
+
+“Because that would be no novelty--but if either of _you gentlemen_
+will sit to my statuary, for a _cast_, the composition may be brass, or
+bronze, which ever best suits _your complexions_, I care not which, for
+whether it’s Colossus, Dr. Tonic, or a Colossial Earwig--an _object’s_
+an OBJECT.”
+
+This speech, uttered with the most sanctified appearance of reality,
+caused a hearty laugh between Lady Lustre, Rosa, and Dr. Markwell,
+while Dr. Tonic, and Mr. Earwig, completely caught in their own net,
+walked silently on towards the cascade.
+
+“Ah, ha!” exclaimed the ever-ready Munchausen, “here we are at Tivoli,
+sure enough; now, I’ll tell you how I have arranged my Staffordshire
+grotto, exact in the Tivolian similitude, observe, because I have added
+a transparent painting of Macenæ’s villa, upon a curious construction,
+so as pleasingly to delude the senses of the spectator, and make him
+imagine himself actually at the extreme of that beautiful perspective
+ruin.”
+
+“Who the d--l is to imagine what they never saw?” cried the Doctor, “I
+know nothing about _Miss Senna’s_ villa, not I.”
+
+“Then you’ve no conceptive ideas beyond _senna tea_,” said Munchausen,
+laughing at the Doctor’s stupidity; “who the d--l is _Miss Senna_, as
+you call her, I never heard of her at Tivoli?”
+
+“Nor I, neither,” said Rosa, smiling, “but I have contemplated
+with rapture the picturesque scenery of the celebrated ruins and
+cascade--indeed I have a sketch I made on the spot, in my portfolio.”
+
+“Now are you satisfied, Doctor,” exclaimed Munchausen.
+
+“Not perfectly,” replied old Tonic; “you learned people are too refined
+in your ideas, to be at all times comprehensible.”
+
+“But there _are_ enlightened beings--there are souls of congenial
+sentiment--heaven forbid we should all be the offspring of the
+Dunderhead family, though it’s an immense numerous one, I allow,” cried
+Munchausen.
+
+“Your birth-day’s the _fourth_ of November, I presume,” said Mr. Earwig.
+
+“Thereabouts, I believe,” replied Munchausen, “I know you and I
+both came into the world time enough for a Guildhall dinner, on the
+_ninth_--you for the _toast_, and I for the _crumbs_.”
+
+Having now strolled over the principal part of the grounds that excited
+admiration, we returned to the house, where tea awaited our arrival,
+which was succeeded by a merry game at loo, and a whist table, till the
+hour of ten, when a genteel and elegant little cold collation completed
+our evening’s hospitable entertainment, and treated me with a moonlight
+walk home, by the side of Rosa, to whom, in a whisper, I related the
+substance of Dr. Tonic’s conversation, by repeating the excellent
+expedient my uncle had used, to promote his taciturnity, and quell
+suspicion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XII.
+
+
+It now wanted but three days to Mrs. Fungus’s fete champetre, to which
+the Markwell family had received individual cards of invitation; but
+as it was a species of amusement dissonant to the principles of Dr.
+Markwell, and not agreeable to his wife, it was agreed Rosa should
+return an excuse, to elude suspicion, and go _incog_, under the
+protection of my uncle and self; but what character to assume was the
+puzzle, for either as ballad-singer, or minstrel, she would instantly
+be discovered; it was therefore agreed, after much discussion, she and
+my uncle should go as “Sterne and Maria,” precisely habited in costume,
+whilst I dressed in Alice’s old clothes, determined to enjoy a little
+sport as an old gypsey fortune-teller, my uncle having promised to
+furnish me with a private tablet of the dresses of each parties I most
+wished to torment, which by going half an hour previous to my entrance,
+and enclosing the list in a small purse, as a reward for my occult
+abilities, would have it amply in his power to accomplish; and further
+to carry on the joke, I proposed sending to London for _false noses_,
+to wear during supper.
+
+This was a scheme highly approved by my uncle; Rosa and Mrs. Markwell
+undertook the superintendance of my habiliment, and her own, while the
+Rector furnished my uncle with a bushy white wig, cocked hat, and cane,
+which was all the character required, subjoined to a black suit.
+
+On the evening preceding the fete, while Alice and the house-keeper
+were patching and gypsyeizing a ragged gown and petticoat, to render
+me appropriate, in bounced Dr. Tonic, red hot with village news of
+the intended characters he had been able to collect, a piece of
+intelligence very acceptable to me.
+
+“So,” cried he, “the whole village is in a bustle; I understand there
+won’t be an unmasked face at the supper, except the hostess, and her
+daughter; it’s a d--d good plan; we shall have rare fun, my girls are
+half mad--Mrs. Tonic goes as a _blind woman_, and my son Bob’s wife is
+to lead her as a beggar-girl--Elizetta a _ballad-singer_--Georgiana a
+_flower-girl_--Bob, as a noisy _watchman_, for it’s easy enough to cry
+the hour.”
+
+“Yes,” replied my uncle, “he can’t have any great task in doing that.”
+
+“Why, you know, squire,” rejoined the Doctor, “we country Puts
+don’t understand masquerading like you Londoners; we have therefore
+but little inclination to expose our deficiencies on the score of
+witticism: for my part, I have not fixed upon any character yet--how do
+you mean to go?”
+
+“Perhaps as Dr. Slop,” answered my uncle.
+
+“Egad!” exclaimed Tonic, “that character will exactly suit me--I’ll
+go home and study it directly--it’s the very thing--but have you
+heard of Lady Lustre’s intention? she means to go as _Charity_, with
+Dame Margery’s three little brats, on a plan of beneficence; she’s
+a wonderful strange woman; then, again, let me consider; I can tell
+you half the characters in the parish; Major Pea-Chick goes as a
+_sultan_; Mrs. Deposit, a _sultana_; Lady Flam, a _virgin of the sun_;
+Mrs. Macfriz, a _chair-woman_; Mr. Windfall, a _sweep_; Mr. Prolix,
+the _devil on two sticks_; his wife, a _quaker_; Mr. Deposit, an _old
+clothes man_; Mr. Faddle, a _tiddy-dol_, with hot plumb-pudding; widow
+Quiz, a _cabbage-woman_; Mr. Undermine, a mole-skin dress; and, his son
+Simon, a _Patagonian_ goose; Mr. Consequence, a _common-councilman_;
+Mrs. Coniac, a _bar-maid_; Mr. Coniac, _Jerry Sneak_; Mrs. Downright,
+a _landlady_; Mr. Strut, two faces under one hat, and his coat turned
+wrongside outwards; Mr. Downright, an _old woman_; Mrs. Wau-Wau, a
+_house-maid_, with mop and pail; Miss Bleary, a _lady doll-snip_;
+Mrs. Henpeck, in male attire, as a _slave driver_ with her husband in
+chains; Mrs. Dashwell, as _nobody_; Mr. Dashwell, as a _dust-man_.”
+
+“Are you correct in your information?” asked my uncle.
+
+“O yes, perfectly,” answered the Doctor; “there are various other
+characters which I don’t immediately recollect--but of these I am
+positive: but for the soul of me I can’t find out Munchausen, though I
+hear he has sent to London for some particular habit; he’ll be the life
+of the cause--but how shall you go, hey, Mr. Victor? every body’s dying
+to know your character.”
+
+“Then, tell them I go an _Achilles_ in complete armour.”
+
+“But where did you get it from?” asked the credulous Doctor.
+
+“A friend has furnished me.”
+
+“The Markwells are not to be there, I understand,” resumed old Tonic;
+“every body thought Miss Fitzclarence would at least have represented
+Venus--by the bye, it’s a bit of a hoax upon us, for she was fully
+expected--it’s a devilish disappointment to Mrs. Fungus--I wonder
+what’s the reason--some say she did’nt choose to _hide_ her pretty
+face, others assert she was not _competent_ to support a character.”
+
+“And I’ll bet a wager both suggestions are erroneous,” cried my uncle,
+“particularly the latter.”
+
+“You are partial,” answered the Doctor; “we make no phenomenon of her
+in our family, as you do--you absolutely magnify the very atoms of
+merit into enormous objects of admiration.”
+
+“And you, by peering at them through the diminishing optics of envy,
+imagine them lessened in proportion to your wishes; but, recollect,
+Doctor, it is not every body sees with the _black_ eyes you do,”
+replied my uncle.
+
+“Poh!” cried Tonic, “I allow her to be a very fine girl, handsome,
+accomplished, rich, and so forth: but, like most people, possessed of
+those endowments, she knows it, for she carries her head high enough to
+my daughters; she’s not familiar enough to please them.”
+
+“Overfamiliarity is truly contemptuous,” said my uncle; “a modest,
+elegant, degree of reserve is so much more fascinating, that I don’t
+wonder a young lady brought up in the refined style Miss Fitzclarence
+has been educated, should not suit your daughters’ ideas; a common
+village education, and a continental one in the bosom of science, and
+the school of genius, must form pupils of as different a class as St.
+Giles’s and St. James’s.”
+
+“I don’t see that,” returned the Doctor, highly piqued--“good day, good
+day, Mr. Achilles, we shall look sharp for you to-morrow.”
+
+“Aye, _look sharp_, and _be sharp_, is the order of masquerading, and
+Victor won’t be deficient, I’m sure,” said my uncle.
+
+Away went the Doctor; and highly elate at the discovery I had made of
+the various characters, we augured much amusement from our intended
+quiz, not doubting we should hear a pretty budget of village skits, at
+the expense of Rosa and ourselves, which was, in fact, the sole motive
+of our attendance, as my uncle most heartily despised Mrs. Fungus’s
+principles, which he was now willing to put to the test, as the only
+opportunity of obtaining their genuine knowledge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XIII.
+
+
+Now as it was totally impossible Rosa could dress at the Rectory
+without detection, the village not affording a supply of carriages
+to accommodate one quarter part, it was agreed Lady Lustre should be
+informed of the scheme, and fetch her privately in her carriage from
+the Rectory to our house, from whence she would be escorted by my uncle.
+
+At nine o’clock therefore on the following evening Rosa alighted from
+the carriage of Lady Lustre, the most perfect “Mouline’s Maria”
+possible; for Yorick might have mistaken the original and admitted the
+polygraph. Her luxuriant ringlets were confined by a green silk net,
+and braided with a wreath of olive, a flageolet was depended across her
+shoulder by a pale green ribbon, over a white jacket, and the symmetry
+of her elegant shape was displayed by another fastened round her waist,
+at the end of which, a little spaniel, she had procured of a cottager,
+was made prisoner, and completed the costume; my uncle, though not so
+tall or thin as Yorick, looked the respectable representative of that
+celebrated character, and Rosa was so completely at home in recital and
+circumstance, as actually to have placed Sterne’s handkerchief in her
+bosom, wrapped and tied in the vine leaves, “But with which I shall not
+part till I find the owner you may depend,” said she smiling, “for
+not knowing how I may be attacked I was determined to be armed at all
+points.”
+
+I had not yet equipped myself and therefore left her tete-à-tete with
+my uncle, whilst the house-keeper slipped on my ragged black petticoat,
+old brown stuff gown, and a shabby red cloak, well patched, which, with
+a tattered blue pocket handkerchief, tied over the mutilated rim of
+a dirty straw hat, completed my metamorphose, at which Rosa actually
+started as I entered the room.
+
+“What an Apollo Belvidere,” said she laughing.
+
+“Rather what an _Achilles_,” replied I, placing myself before the
+looking glass, by which means I discovered I was incompleat, my arms
+being naked; I therefore begged Alice to supply me with the legs of a
+pair of black worsted stockings, which made me a pair of gypsey mitts,
+and after presenting a few bob curtseys, we jumped into a post chaise,
+we had previously ordered, and off we set.
+
+The distance was about a mile, which brought us to the romantic cottage
+of Mrs. Fungus (who seated in the drawing room beside her little
+daughter Miss Minerva, mama’s darling image), was receiving the company
+as they entered, who respectively paid their birth-day compliments to
+the fairy queen of the gala, who was enquiring of her Lady mother who
+every body was, and receiving the constant negative “I don’t know.”
+
+The room was decorated most fantastically with artificial flowers,
+coloured lamps, and a chalked floor, which the scientific skill of
+Mama and Miss Minerva had scrawled over in non-descript emblems of
+nothing.
+
+The lawn at the back of the cottage was appropriated for dancing, the
+music was placed in the shrubbery, and a platform erected for the
+“fantastic toe” was shaded by a famous Chinese awning, lined with
+rose-colour calico, and decorated with bunches of palm and laurel,
+intermixed with a numerous blaze of lamps, many of which encircled the
+trees in a stile of magic brilliance, such as Mrs. Fungus had read of
+in her favourite novels, and from which she had copied the present
+display.
+
+A numerous assemblage was crowding in, which compelled as many to
+throng out, for better accommodation on the lawn, but willing to remain
+as long as possible in the receiving room, to reconnoitre my game, we
+took our seats near the throne of audience, where a general buz was in
+circulation to discover who Rosa could possibly be.
+
+We had not stood long (for to sit was impossible), when in sailed
+Mrs. Deposit as a sultana, loaded with all the jewels her apprentice
+could spare from the fangs of _redemption_, and one of the richest
+dresses the _repository_ could furnish, that had not yet come under the
+_hammer_. Most unmercifully did she quiz, through an enormous glass set
+with brilliants, the form of our Mouline’s Maria.
+
+“I can’t trace who she can be for the soul of me,” cried she, lolling
+on the arm of Major Pea-Chick, who, audaciously snatching the
+handkerchief from her bosom, told her if she would give it him he’d
+_throw_ her a better in exchange.
+
+“That’s impossible,” said Rosa, angrily snatching it from his rude
+grasp, “for it’s consecrated with the tear of sensibility, and as it
+belongs to a wise man I shall never part with it to a fool.”
+
+“’Pon honour, that’s a dashy little mad speech,” resumed the Major;
+then turning on his heel “the girl don’t want wit, we’ll teaze her
+again bye and bye,” and off he strutted with his sultana.
+
+Mr. Undermine, in his mole-skin dress, next approached to pay his
+respects, followed by his Patagonian goose, who, after making a
+reverential bend of his long neck, set up three loud _quacks_, much to
+the diversion of the company.
+
+“If that young goose has not _learnt_ how to hiss yet, send him to me
+for a few lessons,” said a city alderman, who was regaling himself with
+a large _cheesecake_, which he carried in his hand, a bite of which he
+offered a _flower_ girl for old acquaintance-sake.
+
+The devil upon two sticks now attacked the virgin of the sun, declaring
+he remembered the time when _he_ was her greatest favourite, which so
+perplexed her _purity_ that she dashed out of the room without giving
+him an answer.
+
+Farmer Strut with his _two faces_ was very busy looking about for his
+_old friends_, but nobody knew him from having _turned his coat_, he
+had therefore nothing to amuse and comfort him but a feast upon his
+_nails_, which he trimmed unmercifully.
+
+“Sweep! sweep! sweep!” bawled Mr. Windfall in the ear of the widow
+Quiz, who was wheeling a barrow of cabbages.
+
+“Lard, don’t make such a noise, we all know you are a sweeper,”
+exclaimed the cabbage woman.
+
+“And the best trade going,” replied he; “you ought to know that, you
+served three _apprenticeships_ to it, though you haven’t _sacked_ the
+_soot_ out of the _last old family_ chimney yet.”
+
+“Past twelve o’clock,” yelped Bob Tonic, tossing the cabbages over,
+“you’d better _shut shop_ and _go home_ mistress.”
+
+“What and leave such a noisy fellow as you heir to my cabbages? No! no!
+I’ll make you a present of one for your little family, but the _young
+caterpillars of my own_ must divide the remainder.”
+
+“Any thing to be given away here?” asked old Tonic, in the character of
+a fisherman, with a net of gudgeons.
+
+“Yes,” answered Jerry Sneak, “a cabbage as hard hearted as yourself.”
+
+“I suppose if it had been a _sop in the pan_ you’d have seized it,”
+replied the doctor.
+
+“Oh I’ll make him a present of one as well as his son, for the trouble
+of distributing my remaining stock,” said the cabbage woman; during
+which speech Mr. Prolix at her elbow exclaimed, “Don’t forget a few
+leaves for me.”
+
+“You need not tell me, lawyers can look as sharp for a cabbage as
+a tailor; you’ll take care of yourself no doubt, only mind the
+caterpillars don’t blight your share of the pickings,” resumed the
+widow, and away she trundled.
+
+“Any old cloaths! cloaths! cloaths!” cried Mr. Deposit, catching hold
+of Mr. Undermine’s mole-skin domino, “any _common counshil_ men’s
+_cowns_ to _shell_?”
+
+“No,” replied Undermine, surlily, “don’t bother me, I never traffic
+with Jews, I like open dealing.”
+
+“Ah, but you _tont teal open_ wit you neighbours, you trick dem in
+de dark; _haf_ you _cot_ any quantity of mole’s skins in you _pack
+cround_, I’ll puy dem all, I vont some for a pair of _couty shoes_ for
+an _owlt frint_ vot can _pay_ you vell.”
+
+“Sirrah, begone!” exclaimed Mr. Simon, who was waddling behind his
+_par_ forgetting he was a goose.
+
+“Oh, my cot vat _you_ talk; vel I vos never! no never, hear de like;
+how much you ax for your feathers? come, I make a _pargain_ wit you.”
+
+“Hiss him! hiss him!” exclaimed Alderman Cheesecake, en passant.
+
+“Vell! vell! I’ll go tell all my peoplish about de wonderful _coose_
+vat I heard talk; I tink now you voud look very stilish wit a sage
+nosegay, and a necklace of onions hung round your _neak_.”
+
+“You deserve a d--d good thrashing for making me the sport of the
+company,” replied the goose.
+
+Hah! hah! hah! laughed the jew, most immoderately, “_You_ make de sport
+not me. Shall I treat you wit a slish of hot plum-pudding? Titly Tol,
+where are you, here’s de talking _coose_ in a passion for her supper,”
+and off he slipped in search of the walking cupboard.
+
+A huge bear now rushed in, who throwing his paws round Mrs. Deposit’s
+neck, moosled her most violently, and caused her to utter a loud shriek
+for the assistance of the watchman to take the Bear into custody before
+the sitting Alderman, who jocosely replied he was not _sitting_, nor
+was he in office. Bob Tonic took aim at the bear with his staff, and
+the shaggy animal, in revenge, served Bob’s wife the same trick; which
+in fact he practised on every female not excepting Rosa, whom it was
+remarked he sniffed at and surveyed with seeming sagacity, and saluted
+as politely as any bear could possibly do.
+
+He next seized hold of Mrs. Henpeck’s cat-o-ninetails and rearing
+himself on his hind legs gave her a sharp lash over the shoulders and
+threw it down; he then seized Lady Dol-snip, encircling her waist with
+one paw and escorting her with the other all round the room for a
+promenade, to the terror of some and diversion of others; for little
+Miss Minerva was so frightened that the bear should touch her, that
+her mama had much trouble to convince her it was not a real animal,
+and when he approached to pay his quadrupedical respects Mrs. Fungus
+assured Mr. Bruin she should feel herself much obliged if he would
+lay aside or exchange his dress, as it much annoyed her company, and
+she was astonished any _gentleman_ should assume so unprepossessing a
+character.
+
+This rebuff in some measure restricted the liberties of the bear, who
+paced off to the dancers, where he caused much confusion by chiming in
+between every couple and turning every body the wrong way, and in going
+hand across with the goose catched him fast by the beak and set the
+whole group in a roar of laughter.
+
+He next upset the devil-upon-two sticks; by resuming his quadrupedical
+march twitched off Mrs. Coniac’s shoe, by which he discovered a large
+hole in her stocking, which he took great pains to display to the
+company, by gripping her foot fast in his paw and growling fiercely
+over it to cause attention, much to the dismay of the lady; and poor
+Tiddy Tol’s plum pudding basket was overturned with as little ceremony,
+a slice from which he snatched away and walked off with it in his mouth
+towards charity and her three children, to whom he dropped the piece
+of pudding as his mite, much to her ladyship’s amusement, for in this
+well assumed character Lady Lustre collected near ten pounds for dame
+Margery’s twins.
+
+Having now practised innumerable antics, and tormented the people
+almost beyond bearing, Bruin was retiring from the busy scene to
+re-dress when he accidentally popped upon Major Pea-Chick, the sultan,
+to whom giving a cornish brotherly hug till the little man cried for
+mercy, he hoisted him dexterously upon his back and returned with
+him mounted á la Mamoset, into the drawing room, where at the feet
+of the terrified Miss Minerva he shook off his burthen, by tipping
+the Major heels over head; he vowed to be revenged on the _audacious
+brute_, be who he would; but his ursine majesty could make no reply,
+he growled ludicrously and made a precipitate retreat out of the house
+into a little back cottage, where he had previously conveyed a change
+of dress to avoid detection, and returned to the company e’er he was
+well missed, as Captain Allclack, equipped in costume, with an immense
+snuff box, the macaba of which he had plentifully impregnated with
+Cayenne, this in the quickest succession he presented to every body,
+enlarging with rapid volubility on its excellent properties, protesting
+“It would rouse their energies, clear their understanding,” &c. &c.
+the unwary of this scheme to the tune of nine out of ten, became
+instant victims of credulity, and the whole room was in one incessant
+sneeze, some stamping with the agony of their noses, others compelled
+to unmask to wipe the involuntary tears that flowed from their eyes
+and half blinded them, during which tumult Captain Allclack had found
+his way into the garden and well plied the musicians, who dropping
+their instruments sneezed a complete concerto, while the captain still
+dexterously employed in the circulation of his “Tabac Mystique” was
+execrating them as a set of _hoaxing rascals_, who did not choose to
+play; by which confusion and stoppage of the music, the dance was
+totally interrupted for near half an hour.
+
+This stratagem having had the desired effect (particularly on Major
+Pea-Chick, who was nearly strangled) Captain Allclack suddenly
+disappeared and retiring again to his rustic toilet, equipped himself
+in a long flannel dressing gown and cap, and supporting the character
+of a pantaloon most ably, he kicked, boxed, hissed, danced, and hoaxed
+every body the remainder of the evening.
+
+
+END OF VOL. II.
+
+
+Plummer and Brewis, Printers, Love Lane, Little Eastcheap.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s note
+
+
+Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77028 ***
diff --git a/77028-h/77028-h.htm b/77028-h/77028-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e839516
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/77028-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,5372 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1">
+    <title>
+      Uncle tweazy and his quizzical neighbours | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
+    <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+    <style>
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .51em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .49em;
+}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: 33.5%;
+    margin-right: 33.5%;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+hr.r5  {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%;}
+
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+    /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: small;
+    text-align: right;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-weight: normal;
+    font-variant: normal;
+    text-indent: 0;
+} /* page numbers */
+
+blockquote {
+    margin-top: 0;
+    margin-bottom: 0;
+    margin-left: 5%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;}
+
+figcaption   {font-weight: bold;}
+figcaption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; text-align: inherit;}
+
+/* Images */
+
+img {
+    max-width: 100%;
+    height: auto;
+}
+img.w100 {width: 100%;}
+
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    page-break-inside: avoid;
+    max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+.author {
+    text-align: right;
+    margin-right: 20%
+    }
+
+.x-ebookmaker body {margin: 0;}
+.x-ebookmaker-drop {color: inherit;}
+
+.ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; }
+.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; }
+.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; }
+.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; }
+
+.tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;
+padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; padding-left: .5em;
+padding-right: .5em;}
+
+
+/* Illustration classes */
+.illowp100 {width: 100%;}
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77028 ***</div>
+
+
+
+<p class="ph2">
+UNCLE TWEAZY
+</p>
+
+<p class="ph4">
+  AND HIS</p>
+  <p class="ph3">
+  QUIZZICAL NEIGHBOURS.
+</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <p class="ph4">
+    Plummer and Brewis, Printers, Love-lane, Eastcheap.
+  </p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+  <h1>UNCLE TWEAZY<br>
+  <br>
+  AND HIS<br>
+  <br>
+  QUIZZICAL NEIGHBOURS:</h1>
+  <br>
+  <p class="ph3"><i>A COMI-SATIRIC NOVEL</i>.<br>
+  </p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor1" style="width: 12.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor1.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+  <p class="ph3">IN THREE VOLUMES.<br>
+  </p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor1_2" style="width: 12.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor1.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+  <p class="ph4">BY</p>
+  <p class="ph3">
+  <i>The Author of the</i> “<i><span class="smcap">Observant Pedestrian</span></i>,”</p>
+  <p class="ph4">&amp;c. &amp;c. &amp;c.<br>
+  </p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor2" style="width: 6.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor2.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+<p class="ph3">“Holds to the world a picture of itself,<br>
+  “And raises sly the fair impartial laugh.”</p>
+  <br>
+  <p class="author"><b><i>Thomson’s Winter.</i></b></p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor2_2" style="width: 6.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor2.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+  <p class="ph3">
+  VOL. II.<br>
+  </p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor4" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor4.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+  <p class="ph3"><i>LONDON</i>:</p>
+  <p class="ph4">PRINTED FOR W. SIMPKIN AND R. MARSHALL,<br>
+  STATIONERS’-COURT, LUDGATE-STREET.<br>
+  </p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_titltepage_decor5" style="width: 4.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_titltepage_decor5.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation">
+</figure>
+  <p class="ph3">1816.
+</p>
+
+
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p>
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="UNCLE_TWEAZY">
+    UNCLE TWEAZY
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="r5">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_I">
+    CHAP. I.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The next morning, as soon as we
+had finished breakfast, my uncle
+proposed a visit to the Rectory, to
+take a peep at the paragon Doctor
+Tonic was so lavish in praise of, and
+to pass our respective judgment on
+his perspicuity.</p>
+
+<p>It was a delightful walk to the
+Rectory, which stood most romantically
+at the end of a beautiful shrubbery,
+shaded by the light foilage of
+a double row of limes; the mansion
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span>was a low white building, luxuriantly
+encircled by honeysuckles and
+roses, subjoined to a highly cultivated
+vine, whose abundant clusters
+hung in rich purple fringe against the
+Gothic windows, whose octagon
+panes gave it the appearance of some
+venerable structure, while the beautiful
+surrounding prospect of richly
+fertilized and diversified wood and
+water rendered it a little Elysian.</p>
+
+<p>As we approached, we distinctly
+perceived the sylph-like form of a female
+figure, who, with a basket of
+roses in one hand, was reclining on
+the arm of the venerable pastor, exactly
+bringing to my remembrance
+the <i>entree</i> of Sterne and Maria to
+Moulines.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Markwell perceiving our approach,
+politely advanced to open the
+gate and welcomed us in.</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Fitzclarence,” said he, introducing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span>the lady, who gracefully
+curtsied, but the obtruding shade of
+a straw hat totally precluded my
+curiosity, and compelled me to pass
+on the other side and offer my services
+to carry the basket—but <i>such
+roses</i> as struck my view <i>out</i> of the
+basket, might have dazzled the eye
+of a basilisk; for in the countenance
+of the lovely object who stood by my
+side, I beheld not only the beautiful
+girl described by Dr. Tonic, but the
+chef-d’ouvre of nature.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle, who had merely stolen
+a sidelong glance, preceded us into
+the house, whither we immediately
+followed; but never shall I
+forget his expressive countenance
+as Miss Fitzclarence took her
+seat on an opposite chair, his eyes
+were rivetted on her features, and he
+seemed lost in astonishment, till
+roused by Dr. Markwell’s observing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span>what a charming proficient Miss
+Fitzclarence was on the harp.</p>
+
+<p>“Rosa, if you please, my dear Sir,”
+replied the blooming angel; “by that
+familiar title I shall feel myself completely
+at home.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, my charming, my
+amiable Rosa,” continued the Rector
+(charmed with her affability) “will
+you treat my friends with the dulcet
+sonnet you played this morning?”</p>
+
+<p>Rosa caught up her harp, and,
+like a second Cecilia, all was silent
+rapture; but, when her heavenly voice
+subjoined, my uncle melted into
+tears, exclaiming, “I can’t bear it,
+sweet young lady: in compassion to
+an old man’s feelings, pause one moment.”</p>
+
+<p>The beauteous minstrel ceased,
+and the Rector, unperceived by my
+uncle, gave her a significant wink
+not to continue the song; whilst I,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span>lost in amazement at my uncle’s conduct,
+replaced the harp in silence,
+and various topics of conversation
+ensued; yet still his scrutinizing eye
+was fixed on Rosa till the moment
+of our departure, when pressing her
+beautiful hand respectfully to his
+lip, “young lady,” said he, “this is
+a liberty I have not assumed these
+thirty years—accept it as the sacred
+incense due <i>only</i> to yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir, sir,” said I. “am I unpriviledged
+to follow your example? surely
+your gallantry ought not to eclipse
+mine, and, with Miss Fitzclarence’s
+leave, thus I avail myself.”</p>
+
+<p>One fervent kiss I pressed upon
+that hand, which, in the purest marble,
+chisselled by a Tumerelli, never
+in symmetry was equalled; ask not,
+then, gentle reader, when St. Albans
+left the Rectory, if he was <i>victor</i>—No!
+he was the <i>captive</i> of love, indissolubly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>bound in the chains of
+Rosa Fitzclarence.</p>
+
+<p>She escorted us to the gate, over
+which she reclined till we were out
+of sight; but how many times my
+head mechanically turned to catch a
+last glimpse, I won’t say.</p>
+
+<p>“Victor!” cried my uncle, “where
+is your heart? the moment of trial is
+arrived: be candid, be noble, where
+is your heart?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gone!” exclaimed I, “irrecoverably,
+for ever; I adore Miss Fitzclarence;
+and, if there is perfection
+in woman, ’tis combined in her, for I
+never saw her equal.”</p>
+
+<p>My uncle’s eye glanced fire, and he
+quickly replied, “But I have seen
+her <i>model</i>, her most <i>perfect image</i>,
+her every <i>feature</i>, and her <i>voice</i>—Oh,
+Victor, ’twas daggers to my soul.”</p>
+
+<p>“As how, dear Sir?” I asked with
+much impatience.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You shall know that to-night; at
+present I must drop a subject I feel
+myself incapable to enlarge upon.”</p>
+
+<p>We now strolled home, arm-in-arm.
+“You have done for me, Sir,”
+said I, “completely.”</p>
+
+<p>“And, indeed, Victor, I’ve done
+for myself,” replied he, as we ascended
+the hall steps, when my uncle retired
+to his study, as was his constant
+custom when his mind was
+ruffled or oppressed, and I threw my
+listless form upon the sofa in all the
+tortures of love, hope, and despair,
+and in this commixed rumination I
+lay, till roused by Geoffry coming in
+to lay the cloth.</p>
+
+<p>“Lack-a-daisey, Sir,” cried the
+garulous old fellow, “have you and
+master called at the Rectory this
+morning? and did you see Miss Fitzclarence?
+of all God’s creatures she’s
+the <i>beautifulest</i>. I’ve seen a many
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>fine girls in my days, but nobody never
+see nothing like she I’ll swear;
+I happened this morning to go up
+with a drop of cream, one of their
+<i>keows</i> being dry, and who should I
+pop upon but an angel, as I thought,
+for I declare I stood <i>putrified</i> and
+<i>stagnated</i> at her uncommon beauty:
+I dare say she’s got a <i>thousand sweethearts</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>Had Geoffry stuck the carving
+knife he was so dexterously handling
+into the centre of my heart, I
+could not have leaped more precipitately
+from my recumbent posture.</p>
+
+<p>“Laws, Sir, how you made I
+jump,” exclaimed he; “I hope you
+beant affronted at my boldness in
+axing you such a question?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not at all, good fellow,” said I,
+recovering myself from that lacerating
+word <i>sweetheart</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p>
+
+<p>“But don’t you think her handsome,
+Sir?” enquired Geoffry.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, very handsome,” replied I
+cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>“She <i>clipses</i> all the ladies in the
+<i>willage</i>, however,” said Geoffry,
+“and if I was a rich handsome young
+gentleman, I know I should go mad
+after her.”</p>
+
+<p>At this moment my uncle opened
+the door, and his presence always
+being the signal of taciturnity to
+Geoffry, he withdrew to serve up
+dinner; doing which, little passed
+on either side; and, when the wine
+was placed on the table by the side
+of a plate of beautiful peaches, my
+uncle, examining them severally, declared
+there was not one with the
+cheek of a Rosa; he then drew his
+chair close to mine, and, laying his
+hand on my arm, to enforce attention,
+thus addressed me:—</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Victor, my dear, boy, I am in few
+words going to explain the mystery
+of my conduct this morning at the
+Rectory, which was to you, of course,
+enigmatical; but the moment my
+eye fixed on Rosa Fitzclarence, I
+beheld the <i>polygraph</i> of Cecilia Delmond——”</p>
+
+<p>I started.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, start not,” continued my
+uncle, “my assertion is fact; for
+were it even possible she was her
+<i>own child</i>, so strong a resemblance
+could scarcely exist; I surely, then,
+need not repeat what sort of woman
+she was whom I so fervently adored,
+for you have already her portrait subjoined
+to every quality the human
+heart was capable of possessing; we
+met by accident at an assembly, and
+one hour’s pleasure rendered us reciprocally
+dear to each other. But,
+alas! the disparity of fortunes precluded
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>all hopes of our union, till
+time or circumstances should ameliorate
+the rigid temper of her father;
+for she was an only child, most
+duteous and obedient to his stern
+command; thus situated, our only
+resource of correspondence or intercourse
+rested entirely on the basis of
+juvenile duplicity, as occasion presented
+itself; but both young and
+unpractised in the wiles of dissimulation,
+our bosoms were the mansions
+of love, honour, and fidelity.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_II">
+    CHAP. II.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At this important moment, in popped
+our perpetual interrupter, Dr.
+Tonic.</p>
+
+<p>“Psha, d—n it,” said my uncle, as
+he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>“How d’ye do, Sir, have you heard
+of the female levee at the Rectory this
+morning?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not I,” answered my uncle, peevishly,
+“nor do I want to know any
+thing about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, but I must tell you,” continued
+the doctor, “Mrs. Tonic, my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>daughters, the widow Quiz, Mrs.
+Prolix, Mrs. Fungus, and Mrs. Deposit,
+have all been up in a possee to
+pay their compliments.”</p>
+
+<p>“And I dare say they passed a
+great many,” replied my uncle, snappingly,
+the thread of his interesting
+theme having been so unexpectedly
+broke.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Mrs. Tonic, and the girls,
+and Mrs. Prolix, think her very handsome.”</p>
+
+<p>“And pray who says otherwise?”
+interrupted my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Mrs. Fungus, and Mrs.
+Deposit, oppose the pretension.”</p>
+
+<p>“I thought so,” rejoined my uncle;
+“I wish either of them would tell <i>me</i>
+so, that’s all; I’ll bet her little finger
+against the sense of the whole parish;
+and, pray, what may their scandalous
+audacious tongues take the liberty of
+saying.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Why, Mrs. Deposit calls her a
+little milk and water wax doll, who
+strums the harp with just taste enough
+to please the old Rector.”</p>
+
+<p>“S’death,” exclaimed my uncle,
+“she’s the female Weippart of the
+age; her skill and taste are exquisite.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I don’t know how it was,”
+continued the Doctor, “but Mrs.
+Fungus could not allow her a single
+perfection, and declared she was never
+more disappointed; she thought
+her just fit for the celebrated <i>heroine
+of a romance</i>; a little insipid soul, a
+wild flower of nature, that required
+the hand of <i>tonish cultivation</i> to bring
+into perfection.”</p>
+
+<p>“And if it flourishes in proportion
+to the <i>weeds</i> of their own <i>notoriety</i>,
+sprung from dunghill consequence, it
+will soon overspread the village, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>you may go back and tell them <i>I</i> say
+so,” said my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Hey dey,” exclaimed the Doctor,
+“you’re warm—you’ve seen this
+little paragon, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Sir, I am warm, and I have
+seen more than a paragon,” replied
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, why, you hav’nt fell in
+love; sure she ee’nt to be Mrs.
+Tweazy, is she?” asked the Doctor,
+blinking his squiney eye, and bursting
+into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“What an old fool you must be,”
+cried my irritated uncle, “to talk
+such idle jargon; are you going to
+carry that pretty idea over the village?
+egad you’d better set the cryer
+to work; do step to Ladies Deposit
+and Fungus, and give them the nut to
+crack, and I’ll take care of the shell,
+I warrant me.”</p>
+
+<p>The Doctor now began to draw in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>his horns, observing, he had merely
+repeated what he had heard.</p>
+
+<p>“Then don’t believe it,” continued
+my uncle, “it’s all lies and envy;
+what the d—l, can’t you analyze woman?”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said the Doctor, “it is not
+possible in some cases.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll bet a guinea, though I’m no
+physician,” replied my uncle, “that
+I analyze both Mrs. Fungus and
+Mrs. Deposit, from the crowns of
+their head to the soles of their feet.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a clever man, we all
+know,” answered the Doctor, “I
+dare say you could analyze the brain,
+now I should only attempt the corporeal
+system, according to my own
+<i>discretional</i> powers.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll pardon me, Doctor,” resumed
+my uncle, “when I say that
+my opinion of your <i>discretion</i> does
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>not extend beyond a <i>dose of physic</i>,
+and a <i>game at cribbage</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hey! what,” cried the Doctor,
+“you’ve a high opinion of my abilities
+at that rate, Squire; why, now,
+my son Bob entertains a very great
+opinion of Mrs. Deposit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Like enough,” resumed my uncle,
+“she may be one of his sort of favourites;
+and I’ll be sworn there is
+not a man in the parish would contend
+rivalship with him; God help
+his fancy: his own little wife’s worth
+a hundred such.”</p>
+
+<p>“There are more tempting trees
+than <i>one</i> in an <i>orchard</i>,” said the
+Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“There are,” reiterated my uncle,
+“and the finest tree in the Rectory
+orchard is the <i>new planted nonpariel</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“There you go again,” cried the
+Doctor; “pray, Mr. Victor, what
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>say you of the charms of Miss Fitzclarence?”</p>
+
+<p>I replied, “from what little I had
+seen of the young lady, she appeared
+extremely sensible and agreeable;
+but, in regard to her musical talents,
+I considered myself quite sufficient
+judge of the science to know that
+there were few, very few, (if any)
+private performers, could excel her
+abilities.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed!” cried the doctor, “egad,
+if that’s the case, I must make my
+girls scrape acquaintance, and try
+what they can do; my Elizetta is
+reckoned a tight hand at the piano,
+I assure you: there are few girls in
+the village <i>rattle</i> the keys like her:
+she’s got the knack of it; don’t you
+think so?”</p>
+
+<p>Disgusted with his odious comparison,
+I merely observed, “the instruments
+were so different, as well
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>as the performance, that I could not
+pass my judgment at present.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, well,” said my uncle, (willing
+to abolish the subject, lest the
+crafty old fox should extract my sentiments,
+as he did his chemicals)
+“now, pray let this parley cease, for
+as we don’t agree, we’ll adjourn the
+subject, because I have some agricultural
+business demands attention
+this morning; and, therefore,
+my moments are too precious to
+waste in nonsense, and I’m sure many
+of your patients, Doctor, must be
+anxiously waiting for your visits,
+and so for the present you’ll excuse
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, certainly,” hemm’d
+the Doctor, who, having no alternative
+but to take his departure, brushed
+off, half grumpy, leaving my uncle
+to laugh in his sleeve at his <i>agricultural
+fudge</i>, by which means he had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>completely got rid of the Doctor;
+and thus again re-seating ourselves,
+he continued the sequel of his
+story.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_III">
+    CHAP. III.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Three months had flown on
+airy wing, and neither our interviews,
+or correspondence, had been
+discovered, which, through the medium
+of a bosom friend, we had mutually
+enjoyed; when, one morning,
+by mere chance, in conversation
+with the father of Cecilia, he learnt,
+that he meant to take immediately his
+passage in the first ship that sailed
+for ——, in Italy, where, having
+an extensive magazine that required
+his inspection, he had apprised his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>partner of his intention, and also that
+he meant to bring over his daughter
+with him as a companion to himself,
+and to improve her for one twelve-months
+in the language and musical
+science of that inimitable country.</p>
+
+<p>“This intelligence, as my friend
+well knew, was instant annihilation
+to our hopes and happiness, to lose
+her beloved society for so tedious a
+period was distraction; and, when
+I reflected on the probability of an
+Italian lover superceding my humble
+pretension, the world had no longer
+any charms for me; this, Victor, I
+mused to madness, for I, like you,
+was <i>young</i>, was <i>gay</i>, was <i>happy</i>;
+the impregnate cloud of sorrow had
+never veiled the sunshine of my
+heart, and I dreamed but of bliss,
+nor knew it was a vision, till I grasped
+the airy shade that flitted from
+my touch.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I sought Cecilia—we met: her
+beauteous eyes, suffused in sparkling
+tears, proclaimed the fact; mutual
+we wept: we swore eternal constancy.
+Alas! poor idle children
+of delusion, we little knew how inefficient
+were our weak resolves opposed
+to wealth and power; to have
+declared my sentiments to her inexorable
+father, would have made her
+a perpetual exile; again, I suggested
+assuming the habit of a domestic,
+sailing in the same vessel, and obtaining,
+on my arrival, a capacity in
+her father’s household; but there,
+again, the negative predominated;
+and, to be as brief possible in my
+relation, within ten days from the
+first intelligence of the voyage, I saw
+the vessel recede from shore, which
+contained my soul’s best treasure—yes,
+Victor, I kissed, I blessed her;
+and, on my bended knee, invoked
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>the blessings of heaven for her safety
+and protection. She promised a regular
+correspondence by every post;
+and, compelled to be satisfied with
+this mutual alleviation of our sorrows,
+involved in all the agonies of love,
+we parted—<i>never to meet again</i>. I
+saw her faint upon the deck—I saw
+her borne in the rude arms of sailors
+to the cabin—but I saw no more: a
+temporary stupor seized my brain,
+and I found myself waked from a lethargic
+dream, and surrounded by
+officious strangers, one of whom calling
+a coach, conveyed me to my father’s
+house, where a violent illness
+ensued, which lasted many weeks,
+and caused me to explain to my parents
+the cause of my disorder. My
+mother, all meekness and gentleness,
+soothed my perturbed mind with the
+angelic balm of every comfort she
+could invent; but my father ridiculed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>my boyish folly, laughed me to scorn,
+and reprobated my daring presumption
+in fixing my ideas on an object
+so eminently my superior.”</p>
+
+<p>I sighed from the bottom of my
+soul—my uncle paused—looked stedfastly
+in my face to perceive the effect
+of his narrative—shook his head—wiped
+an intruding tear of recollection,
+and thus continued:</p>
+
+<p>“The lingering day rolled on in
+solemn sadness, and the only consolation
+I possessed, was in the valuable
+society and endearing communion
+of heart, that reciprocally passed between
+me and my ever lamented
+friend Victor Montalbert: ’twas to
+<i>him</i>, my noble boy, I consecrated <i>your</i>
+name, and may you ever be like him
+in benevolence, friendship, and virtue;
+for his soul was the mansion of
+honour, and his heart the realm of
+fidelity; but fate snatched him,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>like every other blessing, from my
+embrace; and in his loss I never
+risked a substitute: one sincere
+friend is all a man can ever dare expect;
+his loss was another dagger to
+my soul, but I had yet an embryo
+grief in store.</p>
+
+<p>“I had received only four faithful
+and affectionate letters from my lovely
+exile, when, lo! the next packet
+from Italy brought me a letter from
+the pen, the direful pen, of her exasperated
+father, informing me he
+had discovered my audacious correspondence
+with his daughter, by
+means of an Italian servant, on whose
+probity Cecilia had confided, and
+dared me ever to address another to
+his daughter on peril of immediate
+punishment to both parties; and concluded
+by asserting, he had engaged
+her hand, not to a <i>pitiful pennyless
+puppy</i>, but a man of honour and <i>fortune<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>
+suitable</i> to her own rank in life,
+which nuptials he should instantly
+<i>enforce</i> her <i>obedience</i> to celebrate.</p>
+
+<p>“Distracted by this unexpected
+stroke of misfortune, I again relapsed
+into a paroxysm of despair. No letter
+arrived from Cecilia, by which I
+concluded she was deprived of every
+resource of future correspondence,
+well knowing the austere tyrant she
+had to deal with.</p>
+
+<p>“Six months elapsed in the torments
+of cruel suspense, when one
+day I met, by chance, the identical
+captain of the vessel in which Cecilia
+left England; of him I enquired
+intelligence of the Delmond family—but
+what words can express my horror
+and astonishment, when I learned
+that my beloved Cecilia had been
+inhumanly sacrificed by her barbarian
+parent, in a compulsatory marriage
+with an opulent merchant residing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>at Florence, whose name was Lausanne.
+Thus ended my hopes and
+happiness; for in vain my friends diverted
+my mind—in vain their helpless
+pity soothed my grief, or roused
+my energies: all, all, were dormant;
+and, though I was lead in the unceasing
+round of common-place amusements,
+though I was introduced to
+the most accomplished and lovely
+women, not one had power to extract
+a smile, or warm this icy heart, for I
+had sworn I had abjured all women;
+and from that hour my character and
+manner grew so misanthropical, that
+even <i>time</i>, that leveller of good and
+evil, will ne’er irradicate the poisonous
+root that still entwines the fibres
+of my heart; and so perfectly have I
+cherished her image in my remembrance,
+that every feature of Cecilia
+Delmond burst like a beam of sunshine
+on my soul, when first that angelic
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>girl, that Rosa Fitzclarence,
+met my eye. Do you now <i>wonder</i>,
+Victor, at my agitation? can you pity
+an old man’s sorrows, and not indicate
+feelings that ought perhaps to
+be extinct, after being a pupil in the
+school of experience to the present
+age.”</p>
+
+<p>He ceased; and, as he reclined
+back in his chair, I caught his hand.
+“My dear, my revered uncle,” exclaimed
+I, “I never till this moment
+knew the virtues of your heart—Why,
+ah! why have you concealed
+from the world those principles which
+so justly ennoble the human heart;
+was love a crime on your part! No,
+’twas the voluntary effusions of a
+soul replete with virtue, and crowned
+with honour, that bowed in silent
+submission to the decree of fate.—Alas!
+good sir, while contemplating
+your sorrows of the heart, how much
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>may I one day experience of my own;
+ah! should my destiny be consonant
+with your’s, where shall I find an antidote?”</p>
+
+<p>“Victor,” resumed my uncle,
+“heaven avert it—why look so serious?
+why speak with so much energy,
+my boy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, sir,” replied I, “I cannot
+explain; make but Rosa Fitzclarence,
+Cecilia Delmond, and search no farther
+the lacerated heart of St. Alban:
+your own feelings must tell you what
+mine are at this moment, equally,
+alas! hopeless as sincere.”</p>
+
+<p>“My uncle started forward on his
+seat, “<i>hopeless</i>,” ejaculated he,“Oh!
+heaven forbid; if my most sanguine
+wishes and endeavours can constitute
+your felicity: but crush, I conjure
+crush, the impetuous flame, nor let
+false hope, in cob-web guise, flit her
+visionary form before your love-filmed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>eye to lead you to destruction.
+Rosa Fitzclarence is an orphan heiress,
+in which case she is left in the
+power of her guardians till she becomes
+of age, which I understand a
+few months will complete; should
+the sentiments of those guardians be
+rigidly enforced, contrary to the inclination
+and future happiness of
+their ward, it’s more than probable
+she will adopt the system her own
+good judgment impels, and give her
+hand where love and prudence best
+direct it, for she has no stern father
+to oppose her happiness like her dear
+hapless polygraph: but be very cautious
+how you proceed—you have
+won my heart by your candour, and
+it shall not go unrewarded.”</p>
+
+<p>He wept like an infant; I forced
+a glass of Madeira through his trembling
+lips—nature wanted its revival.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></p>
+
+<p>“One word more,” continued he,
+“do not, I conjure you, drop the
+slightest hint of your prepossession to
+Dr. Tonic; the mischief-making imp
+would be a living chronicle of vexation:
+and, if a <i>shade</i> could cross your
+interest, in his <i>own behalf</i>, depend
+upon it you would rue the result of
+such communication.”</p>
+
+<p>I promised peculiar attention to his
+desire. “But, sir,” observed I, “e’er
+the subject drops, did you never receive
+any further intelligence of the
+fate, fortune, or family, of Madame
+Lausanne?”</p>
+
+<p>“I learnt,” replied my uncle, “that
+she sunk into a state of apathy almost
+immediately after her marriage, in
+which she ever expressed herself extremely
+unhappy, and great doubts
+were entertained of her life, for several
+years after, from the delicacy and
+impaired state of her constitution,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>subjoined to the morose behaviour of
+her husband, villain as he was; but
+thank heaven she was relieved from
+her persecution five years after her
+marriage by the death of her hymenial
+tyrant, soon after she had given
+birth to a daughter, a circumstance
+wholly unexpected, after so long a
+series of indisposition acting on a
+frame of such delicate texture, and I
+have been informed she quitted Florence
+immediately, retired to the recluse
+shades of Italy, where she soon
+after died a martyr to a broken heart,
+but whether her <i>child</i> is yet <i>living</i>, I
+know not.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_IV">
+    CHAP. IV.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Geoffry now entered, informing
+us Lady Lustre’s butler had just
+left a basket of grapes, and a bottle
+of tokay, of which she requested my
+uncle’s opinion next morning, being
+a present from London lately received
+from a connoisseur in that article,
+who had imported it in its native bag,
+considering it a choice present.</p>
+
+<p>“And here, sir,” continued Geoffry,
+producing a most flourishing envelope,
+emblazoned with a seal <i>three
+inches sexagon</i>, “here’s a large sort of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>a letter Mrs. Fungus’s boy brought,
+but I thought you and Mr. Victor
+seemed busy in conversation, and so
+I would not disturb you to bring it
+in.”</p>
+
+<p>Geoffry now laid his commissions
+on the table, and was leaving the
+room, when my uncle re-called him
+to draw the tokay cork, whilst I sat
+contemplating the enormous cachet,
+on which was inscribed, “<i>for particulars
+enquire within</i>,” a motto much
+exciting my curiosity, as I handed it
+to my uncle, who, pouting his under
+lip, observed, it was no bad inscription
+for a lodging-house window, and
+supposed it a pawnbroker’s relic that
+had escaped redemption.</p>
+
+<p>“Sir,” said I, “are you not playing
+the severity a little too sharp?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not at all,” replied my uncle,
+“it may be an instrument hired for
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>the purpose of consummate notoriety,
+a sort of <i>stop</i> trinket belonging to
+neighbour Deposit’s sanctorum.”</p>
+
+<p>Geoffry had by this time bounced
+the tokay cork, declaring, “never
+nothing smelt so fine, and it sparkled
+like Miss Fitzclarence’s eyes, God
+bless her pretty beads.”</p>
+
+<p>“Heyday!” exclaimed my uncle,
+“who made you a judge? who asked
+your opinion?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have been asked it all over the
+<i>willage</i>,” replied the honest menial,
+“and nobody dares contradict me,
+big or little: I would not give up my
+opinion to a king.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you understand the qualities
+of that wine?” said my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Geoffry shook his bald pate, poured
+out two glasses, and withdrew,
+without daring to offer any further
+comment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p>
+
+<p>My uncle now broke the seal of
+Mrs. Fungus’s envelope, which contained,
+what appeared to him, a
+painted and gold emblazoned valentine,
+so strongly impregnated with
+musk, that extending it at arm’s
+length, while he pinched his nostrils
+with the other finger and thumb, he
+requested me to peruse the contents,
+which ran as follows:</p>
+
+<p>“Mrs. Fungus at <i>home</i>, at a fete
+champetre, given next Thursday in
+celebration of Miss Fungus’s birth-day
+to a select party of <i>masked</i>
+friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“And how many does the foolish
+women expect to find <i>unmasked</i>?” exclaimed
+my uncle; “to be sure, when
+she expresses, “Mrs. Fungus <i>at
+home</i>,” she is exactly telling us where
+she <i>ought</i> to be, but is seldom found;
+however, we’ll go, Victor—and, availing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>ourselves of the proposed disguise,
+I’ll adopt a magician’s dress, and you
+may do as you like.”</p>
+
+<p>To this proposal I readily assented,
+and we sipped Lady Lustre’s liquor,
+the flavour of which we found
+peculiarly fine.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s like herself: it can’t be better,”
+said my uncle, “and it’s as
+bright and sparkling as Rosa’s pretty
+beads, as master Geoffry familiarly
+styled them just now: it’s well I was
+not in one of my crabbish moods, or
+he’d have said less upon that subject,
+I assure him.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe the honest creature
+would die to serve her,” replied I,
+“he thinks her the perfection of nature.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so do I,” rejoined my uncle:
+“but we’ll quit the subject, and advert
+to one less painful.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p>
+
+<p>We now strolled through the
+grounds, to enjoy the delightful
+breezes of evening, and had just passed
+through a small private gate
+which led into a green lane, when the
+mill cart of Cloddy Strut came rattling
+along the road, drove by a plain masculine
+woman, of truly vulgar appearance,
+supported in character by a
+birch broom on one side, with a mop,
+pail, door-mat, and sundry turnery
+utensils, subjoined to a leg of mutton,
+and a basket of fish, just landed from
+the London coach.</p>
+
+<p>“Your most hum<i>ble</i>, sir,” said the
+female Jehu, with the gruff voice of
+a boatswain, “I suppose you did’nt
+know me, clodhopping along in this
+pretty trim: but I’ve been to market,
+you see, I don’t mind trifles, I’m
+none of your fine London ladies, I’m
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>Joan Blunt, I care for nobody’s
+sneers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very true,” replied my uncle,
+“you’re the <i>plain</i> domestic miller’s
+wife, in every sense of the word,
+there’s nothing like buckling to one’s
+station in life.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye; Lord, well, I did not always
+ride in a cart: I’ve been the
+gayest of the gay in my time, till my
+<i>Cymon</i> made a convert of me, somehow,
+and metamorphosed me from
+the fine lady to poor humble <i>Nell</i>;
+well, it can’t be helped: I’m contented
+while my <i>lump</i> uses me kindly;
+the brats are my greatest plague;
+I never loved children.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, then, did you marry?” asked
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Strut attempted to blush, but
+it was only a sham tinge, the practice
+or theory of which she had never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>practised, nor had she any incitement
+in the obscure retreat of a water
+mill to call that power into action.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle, who only viewed women
+of that description in the most
+odious light, had passed her with a
+silent inclination of the head, if her
+loquacious tongue had not arrested
+his footstep, wished her good evening,
+and closing the gate, left her to
+bump along, in full riggle, with her
+cottage equipage of mops, brooms,
+and brushes.</p>
+
+<p>Our walk was delightful; we marked
+the evening primrose close its
+sombre leaf; the rose was weighed
+with diamond dew-drops—anon we
+listened to the high poised sky-lark’s
+evening carrol; and again, a secreted
+nightingale, in a hawthorn hedge,
+delighted us with the exquisite melody
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>of her vesper hymn; and, as the
+refulgent moon stole through the
+branches of the elegant acacia, all
+nature seemed to say, good night,
+the pillow of repose is sweet.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_V">
+    CHAP. V.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>We now returned to the saloon,
+partook our evening sandwich, expatiated
+on the qualities of Lady Lustre’s
+tokay, proposed visiting her
+next morning, and then retired very
+early to rest; but, e’er the village
+clock told seven, I left my sleepless
+pillow, and strolled the grounds
+for two hours in converse with old
+Geoffry, who was arranging the hothouse,
+and furnished me full exercise
+and employment, which being quite
+novel to me, afforded a pleasant amusement,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>till my uncle’s velvet night-cap
+made its appearance at the hall door,
+and his jocular whew! hollo! summoned
+me to breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>“Recollect we dine at Mrs. Henpeck’s
+to-day, Victor,” said he, “and
+there again we shall meet a fresh
+squad of comicals, to whom you have
+not been in introduced; but we shall
+find no Lady Lustres, or Fitzclarences
+there; yet we shall meet with
+diversion and good cheer, to pass the
+hour.”</p>
+
+<p>“To-morrow, Sir,” said I, “I presume
+we shall attend church.”</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure we shall; aye, and
+walk home with Rosa to the Rectory
+afterwards,” replied my uncle smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>“Ye Gods!” exclaimed I, leaping
+from my chair in a rhapsody of
+thought most enchanting, “who
+would not go to church!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Not you, I fear, without the stimulus
+of Rosa’s presence—hey, Victor,”
+cried my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>I felt the truth flash my convictive
+cheek, but I made no reply, and after
+our repast was finished, we set
+off for a gentle saunter through the
+village to Lady Lustre’s; here, trotting
+along, smothered in dust, we
+met the Doctor upon his old docked
+mare, returning from a distant visit,
+puffing and foaming like a lime-kiln,
+enquiring where we took our mutton,
+because, if at home, he’d help to
+play a knife and fork with us, but
+my uncle assuring him we were engaged
+at Mrs. Henpeck’s, silenced his
+self-in-vitation.</p>
+
+<p>“Ho! ho!” cried he, “what, you
+dine at Henpeck’s, do you? very
+odd! very odd! they should not
+have invited <i>me</i> and my <i>family</i>—drank
+tea there last night—never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>heard a syllable mentioned—d—d
+sly—can’t make it out. Well, I wish
+you merry—it’s much if I don’t drop
+in in the evening.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Like enough</i>,” replied my uncle,
+nodding his head, “you can play
+Harlequin, and introduce yourself
+any and every where; you’ve the happy
+knack.”</p>
+
+<p>“My profession authorizes me, in
+a great measure,” replied the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“You mean to say, you are a sort
+of being one must be cautious how
+one quarrels with,” answered my
+uncle, “because it’s as much as one’s
+<i>life’s worth</i> to bear enmity with a
+Doctor—for we all know you are the
+necessary village evil.”</p>
+
+<p>“Evil! evil!” muttered the Doctor,
+“I don’t comprehend you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, well, we’ll explain it over a
+game at cribbage next time we meet;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>good morning—I can’t stand broiling
+in the heat and dust any longer,” said
+my uncle, and off we walked till we
+came in sight of a small dwelling in
+the shape of a <i>baker’s shop</i>, into
+which my uncle mechanically walked,
+to order some corn; and, as I
+stood tat-tooing my cane upon the
+threshold, I espied the name of
+Sponge on the door-post; oh!
+thought I, as the little bell tingled
+behind the shop-door to announce us,
+as sure as I live this is the identical
+house my uncle promised to shew me
+the master of, and e’er I had formed
+the idea, out popped one of the <i>fat
+girls</i> I had met in the chaise, not a
+baker’s daughter as I expected to
+have seen, but a <i>half-naked</i> girl,
+whose <i>brawny</i> limbs protruded
+through a dress something similar to
+a miller’s <i>bolting-bag</i>, her hair was
+twisted and plaited after the similitude
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>of her father’s <i>twopenny loaves</i>
+that lay scattered on the counter, and
+her <i>tout-en-ensemble</i> gave her the appearance
+of a puppit-shew columbine.</p>
+
+<p>She requested I would walk into
+the parlour while she went in search
+of her father, whom, I presumed was,
+as my uncle observed, most probably
+to be found in his <i>drawing-room</i>, but
+we were mistaken; for, at the instant
+of our conjecture, in he came from
+the piggery, where he had been <i>butchering</i>
+a porker: a red worsted night-cap
+adorned his bald head, while the
+sleeves of a dirty greasy shirt were
+tucked up under his shoulder, exhibiting
+to the eye of horror, a pair of
+sinewy arms covered in smeary gore,
+and round his waist was tied a flour
+sack, drenched in blood, which, with
+the addition of an old blue pocket handkerchief,
+bound round the grizzled
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>chin of a week’s beard, and a mouth
+crammed with tobacco, the essence
+of which <i>distilled</i> from each <i>corner</i>,
+completed Mister Sponge’s portrait,
+father to the young <i>lady</i> aforesaid,
+who came flying into the room with
+a clean white apron, which she insisted
+her <i>par</i> should tie on, “for he
+was quite a fright.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the use on’t,” said he.—“The
+pig beant cut up yet; mayhap
+Mister Tweazy may like a joint,” and
+up he twitched his greasy leather
+breeches with a <i>carpenter’s shrug</i>.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, by no means,” replied my
+uncle, “if I had not seen you in this
+dreadful condition, I might have been
+tempted; but, to tell you the truth,
+my appetite is mighty delicate, and I
+could not touch it now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh, you’re mighty nice indeed,”
+replied the gruffy boor, whose innate
+manners never exceeded the <i>bounds</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>of his <i>piggery</i>, nor was it possible
+ever to rub off the incrustation
+even with his own <i>rasp</i>.</p>
+
+<p>“I thought you had given up pig-killing,”
+said my uncle, “since you
+got your <i>unexpected fortune</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nah!” exclaimed he, (smearing
+a nasal chrystal on the back of his
+gory <i>paw</i>, for it bore at the best
+of times very little similitude to a
+hand; in fact it was merely a <i>grasping
+hook</i>, with five <i>claws</i> at the end,
+moulded into a sort of <i>clutch</i>, wherewith
+to handle the <i>loaves</i> of his own
+family, and the <i>fishes</i> of others).
+“Nah,” repeated he, “I likes the
+<i>job</i> and the <i>profit</i> too well.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t doubt that,” replied my
+uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“My pigs ain’t like most other
+people’s,” cried the baker.</p>
+
+<p>“True,” said my uncle, “your’s
+are <i>pye-house</i> pigs, that’s the reason.”</p>
+
+<p>Master Sponge not understanding
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>the exact inuendo of my uncle, snappishly
+replied, “As to their being
+<i>pious</i> pigs, he did not understand
+<i>that there</i> sort of language: it <i>mought</i>
+be <i>high church</i> manners, but he recollected
+it was not the first time as
+Mister Tweazy had called <i>his’n presbyterian
+pigs</i>, but that made no odds
+to a <i>religious</i> man like <i>hisself</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye! aye! <i>practice</i> what you
+<i>preach</i>, Master Sponge, there’s nothing
+like <i>honor</i> and <i>honesty</i>—we all
+know your <i>kind</i> of <i>people talk</i> enough
+about <i>both</i>, but I’m for <i>actions</i>,” said
+my uncle, “actions want no trumpeter
+whether they are good or bad.”</p>
+
+<p>The angry man of slaughter turned
+upon his heel, his fat fantastic
+daughter tossed up her head, and we
+marched out of the shop, pursuing
+our way to Lady Lustre’s.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you ever see such a disgusting
+object?” cried my uncle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Never in my life,” said I.</p>
+
+<p>“Then what would you think to
+see <i>such</i> a man <i>making love</i> to a genteel
+well-educated woman, with a
+peel full of ‘<i>toad’s-in-a-hole</i>,’ and
+‘<i>veal triangles</i>,’ smoking hot, balancing
+over his night-cap in the consonant
+trim, (the bloody sack excepted)
+which we have beheld him this
+day, and yet he had <i>charms</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“They must be hidden charms of
+the mind, or heart, I presume,” replied
+I.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you must ask his wife that
+question,” answered my uncle, “or
+enquire at the Golden Lion tap,
+where <i>old smoakey</i>, as they call him,
+lights the first pipe every evening
+since he pocketted his wife’s bundle
+of <i>soft rags</i>, and there he harangues
+and boasts his <i>mushroom</i> consequence
+to the diversion of his neighbours;
+drinks his best <i>sarvices</i> to the <i>miller</i>,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>who swallows them in a cup of <i>credulity</i>,
+and after traducing the characters
+of his <i>best friends</i>, who snatched
+him from the fangs of poverty,
+and the horrors of a <i>jail</i>, out of <i>compassion</i>
+to his <i>family</i>, he struts to
+<i>meetings</i> where, under the impervious
+cloak of fell hypocrisy, no dying
+magpie turns his eyes up more
+completely sanctified, as the tip of
+his <i>snub</i> grinds in close contact with
+the sacred white wall, against which
+he <i>grunts</i> out his <i>self-made</i> ejaculations.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say another word about
+him, Sir,” replied I, “the portrait <i>in
+propria personæ</i>, and its attached explanation,
+have been sufficient for
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>My uncle smiled—I shrugged my
+shoulders, and we now found ourselves
+in view of Lady Lustre’s park
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>gate, which soon after gave us admission
+to her presence.</p>
+
+<p>“I have obeyed your ladyship’s
+injunction,” said my uncle, as he took
+his seat, “and am come to tell you
+there is nothing in the village to compare
+with your tokay.”</p>
+
+<p>“I must beg leave to differ,” replied
+her ladyship, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed!” cried my uncle musing
+on his cane, “then I’m no judge, I
+suppose.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, you are,” answered her
+ladyship, “what think you of our
+Rectory nonpareil?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, hah!” said my uncle, “there
+I yield the palm of decision.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Mr. Tweazy,” continued
+Lady Lustre, “what a charming angelic
+young creature is that Miss
+Fitzclarence; oh, how I envy Dr.
+Markwell such a treasure as her society;
+they both called on me last
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>night, and had you seen her bewitching
+form, and heard her edifying
+scientific language on every subject,
+you would have been in raptures;
+for, though I’m an old woman, I
+must confess she has made a complete
+conquest of my heart: I am no
+novice in the school of science, but
+I feel I am only a mere pupil in the
+hands of an inimitable tutor; she
+possesses the abilities of the sage
+philosopher, and the juvenile Terpsichore;
+in short, she is human perfection,
+and Dr. Markwell whispers
+me, her principles of religion are no
+less eminent and admirable, and
+would do honour to the head and
+heart of an arch-bishop.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have seen her but once,” said
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Then, Sir,” resumed her ladyship,
+“will you and Mr. St. Alban
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>meet her here on Monday, to tea,
+with a small select party?”</p>
+
+<p>“With much pleasure,” answered
+my uncle, and the topic dropped, to
+make way for others, amongst which
+her ladyship proposed accompanying
+us over her grounds, to inspect some
+improvement lately arranged: and
+here we found ourselves in Elysium;
+the grotto was beautiful, the music
+rotunda superbly decorated with
+busts, bronzes, and stained glass:
+the cascade was an enchanting production
+of art and nature, that appeared
+a combination of magic, while
+various Gothic arches, of exquisite
+sculpture, subjoined to Chinese
+bridges thrown geometrically across
+the various canals, heightened the
+beauties of the surrounding scenery,
+and beguiled our footsteps almost
+beyond the limited hour of our return
+to dress for Mrs. Henpeck’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>dinner, which was to be set on table
+precisely at four o’clock, with the
+exactitude of the polar needle, as
+Mrs. Henpeck never delayed her
+grace one moment to please any body—punctuality
+was her table motto—and
+her <i>rule</i> was <i>law</i>.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_VI">
+    CHAP. VI.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At ten minutes, therefore, before
+the appointed time, my uncle and I
+found ourselves ushered into Mrs.
+Henpeck’s drawing-room, where all
+was gaudy and profuse, while the
+ruddy mistress of the feast introduced
+us to her guests already arrived;
+but to give you her portrait as
+she met our view, I must describe
+her dress, which consisted of a cambric
+<i>bolster-case</i> bedizened with lace,
+into which she had crammed her uncouth,
+ill-shaped figure, <i>a la swab</i>;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>her copper-coloured neck was adorned
+with an enormous necklace of
+<i>barley-sugar</i> appearance; and her
+trout skin, morphew-wrinkled unprepossessing
+visage, was encircled
+by the straggling ringlets of a black
+wig, which ever and anon tormented
+her gooseberry-coloured crowfooted
+blinkers.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Henpeck was as clean scraped
+up and powdered as lovey could
+make him appear: she had plaited
+his frill and tied his neckcloth as
+nice as a new pin, and no doubt deputed
+his seat behind the door, where
+he seemed fixed like one of Punch’s
+puppets, till the word of command
+from his wife twitched the wire of
+liberty, and set the poor automaton
+in motion.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Henpeck!” shrieked his lady,
+“how you sit <i>glued</i> to your chair,
+<i>my love</i>: why don’t you introduce
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>the company: pray, who so proper
+as the master of the house.”</p>
+
+<p>The placid man obeyed the mandate,
+and thus announced the group:
+“Mr. and Mrs. Coniac; Major Pea-Chick;
+Mr. Munchausen; Mrs.
+Wau-Wau; Miss Bleary Wau-Wau;
+Lady Flam;” he then continued—“Ladies
+and gentlemen, this is Mr.
+Tweazy, this Mr. Victor St. Alban:
+now, my love, I’ve done my duty,”
+and down he sat.</p>
+
+<p>“Lord! Mr. Henpeck,” exclaimed
+his wife, “you’ll never be <i>Sir Clement</i>
+the <i>Second</i>—but what, in the
+name of wonder, my dear, have you
+resumed your seat for? why don’t
+you ring the bell for dinner?”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Henpeck obeyed: but somehow
+stumbled, and his glossy shoe,
+of Fawcett brilliance, coming in contact
+with the ancle of his clean silk
+stocking, left an indelible mark, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>highly provoked the lady of the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>“My God, Mr. Henpeck, you’re
+worse than a child: see what a condition
+your stocking is in, and you
+know I always <i>wash</i> them myself—I’m
+the most particular <i>nice</i> woman
+living—you know I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, well, my love, never mind,”
+said the timid man.</p>
+
+<p>“But I do mind,” rejoined Mrs.
+Henpeck, “I hate to be put out of
+temper when I’ve my friends about
+me, I love <i>peace</i> and <i>mildness</i>;” then
+elevating her voice to a pitch of <i>violence</i>,
+“ring the bell again, Mr. Henpeck:
+if the servants don’t answer,
+ring it <i>down</i>, and don’t sit like a statue.”</p>
+
+<p>Again Mr. Henpeck agitated the
+wire, and the servant appeared.</p>
+
+<p>“Is dinner served?” asked Mrs.
+Henpeck with visible impatience.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p>
+
+<p>“No, Ma’am,” said the foot-boy,
+“cook’s had an <i>accidency</i> with the
+fish <i>sarse</i>, and it’s like to have set the
+chimbly on fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Henpeck,
+“all my rich lobster sauce
+wasted—a nasty careless hussy!”
+and up she jumped, like an enraged
+tygress, to bolt off to the scene of action.</p>
+
+<p>“You can’t get into the kitchen,
+ma’am,” continued the boy, “it’s all
+of a swim of water in trying to put
+the fire out, and cook’s washing the
+soot off the ducks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gracious heaven! I shall run
+mad,” cried Mrs. Henpeck, darting out
+of the room, without any interruption
+from her quiet husband, who knew
+he did not dare interfere in kitchen
+fracas, till his wife’s sonorous squall
+from the bottom of the stairs roused
+his obedience in the following words:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Henpeck! Mr. Henpeck!
+<i>put on my pattens</i>, and come down
+into the floating kitchen, this moment.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dear me,” said Lady Flam, “I
+hope the chimney is not on fire: the
+very idea makes me tremble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never fear, madam,” replied Mr.
+Munchausen, “there’s plenty of us
+to put it out; now I entertain no
+fears of conflagration, for I have very
+often a fire in every room in the
+house at my Staffordshire villa, and
+I think we compute <i>fifteen rooms, en
+suite, three stories high</i>—for it’s a
+d—d cold place, I do assure you, in
+the hunting season; why, would
+your ladyship believe it, that the
+poultry and spring chickens in my
+hennery, to the tune of about 750 of
+them, were actually so cramped with
+cold, that I was compelled to erect
+a Buzaglo stove in the centre, guarded
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>with gold wire work to prevent
+accident, and have a large <i>turkey
+carpet</i> to cover the floor, so that
+you’ll observe, they could use exercise
+over their woollen parterre, or
+huddle round the fire at pleasure;
+and then as to my pigs, no man so
+particular! Why it cost me 75 <i>guineas</i>
+in <i>chestnuts</i> for them last winter,
+beside a hundred weight of <i>Pistachio
+nuts</i>! I assure you my expences are
+not trifling.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bless me,” said Lady Flam, “I’m
+astonished—I really never heard of
+such things as <i>carpets</i> in a <i>hennery</i>,
+and <i>pigs</i> fed on a <i>Pistachio nuts</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear lady,” resumed Mr.
+Munchausen, “perhaps you have
+never visited Italy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Never,” replied her ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! then I don’t wonder at your
+surprise; because it’s a very common
+thing with people of distinction in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>Italy to give their choice pigs Pistachio’s,”
+replied the bombastic narrator;
+“my sow, for instance, was a
+present to me from the emperor of
+China, for some trivial services I had
+rendered myself conspicuous in at
+his court, and a most valuable beautiful
+creature she is—she was one of
+<i>five and thirty at a litter</i>! and, therefore,
+as I before said, no man in England
+possessing such a sow as myself,
+I don’t mind what expence I incur
+to maintain her.”</p>
+
+<p>“What a shame, Mr. Munchausen,”
+cried Miss Bleary Wau Wau,
+(hanging her head on one shoulder,
+and leering her non-descript eye in
+every direction of vacancy towards
+the object addressed) “what an extravagant
+creature to feed pigs with
+such delicious rarities—’pon honour,
+I don’t believe it.”</p>
+
+<p>“’Pon honor, Miss Bleary,” replied
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>he, turning his eye in the exact
+direction of her’s, “you really, my
+dear young lady, expose your want
+of knowledge very much; <i>I</i>, who
+have visited the Continent, and been
+in most parts of the known world,
+must know what I’m talking about;
+as well you might deny, that when
+I was in France, the dog that was
+made me a present at the Palais Royale,
+did’nt have a dish of Ortolans
+every day provided for his dinner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, monstrous!” exclaimed the
+ladies.</p>
+
+<p>“Pray, Sir,” said Major Pea-Chick
+(with his <i>white pig-tail</i>, and
+his <i>scarlet rimmed</i> eyes, who wished
+to play off a little of his witty artillery),
+“pray, Sir, where may this famous
+sow of yours be? I should like
+mightily to see her munch the Pistachio’s:
+I suppose she has a peculiar
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>method of cracking them—or do you
+<i>crack</i> for <i>her</i>?”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Munchausen aware of the little
+military punster’s sarcasm, replied,
+“he occasionally employed an <i>old
+disabled soldier</i> to crack them.”—This
+silenced the witticism which no
+one could parry more adroitly than
+Munchausen, the pupil of effrontery,
+who secretly determined to retaliate
+on the Major the first opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>“What colour is your famous
+sow, Mr. Munchausen?” drawled
+Mrs. Wau Wau, through her nose.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s brindle, ma’am,” replied he,
+“with a short curly white tail, about
+the length of <i>Major Pea-Chick’s
+queue</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“I should rather have expected to
+hear it was <i>nine yards long</i>, like the
+Bengal tyger’s that attacked a friend
+of mine, who positively swore to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>dimension,” cried the Major, bursting
+into a teh he!</p>
+
+<p>“I presume,” said my uncle, very
+gravely, “your friend <i>stretched</i> it to
+that length in his way home—it was
+an elastic tail, I imagine.”</p>
+
+<p>“Exactly so,” replied the Major,
+“for after we had <i>roasted</i> it well, it
+shrunk to a common size.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you keep pigeons, Sir?” resumed
+Miss Bleary.</p>
+
+<p>“No, ma’am, not always—I occasionally
+make them <i>keep me</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, you make them into pies,”
+I suppose, snuffled Mrs. Wau-Wau;
+“we are very fond of <i>pigeons</i> at <i>our</i>
+house.”</p>
+
+<p>“So am I, ma’am,” replied Mr.
+Munchausen, with a very serious
+face, “I generally <i>pot</i> all pigeons—its
+an excellent way, I assure you.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve a peculiar receipt, perhaps,
+for the article,” cried Major
+Pea-Chick, “though potted pigeons
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>are no great rarity now, as they used
+to be.”</p>
+
+<p>“When you was in the <i>Turkey-line</i>,
+you mean,” replied Munchausen;
+“d—me how you cropped and
+scragged them; I remember it well,
+though I was but a lad—aye! aye!
+you’ve been the sort, Major, you
+tamed your pigeons into goldfinches,
+netted them snug, and then turned
+over a new <i>leaf</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where, I believe, you’ll find few
+blots,” interrupted the little Major,
+reddening with passion, till his ears
+looked like the scarlet wattles of a
+dunghill cock; at which moment of
+snip-snap, Mr. Henpeck re-entered
+the room, announcing dinner on the
+table, which quietly ended the controversy.</p>
+
+<p>Here we found Mrs. Henpeck seated,
+with a face like scarlet, with passion
+and culinary exertions, apologizing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>to her company for the carelessness
+of her cook in destroying
+the fish sauce, and spoiling the delicious
+ducks—add to which, the baker
+had broke her a fine pigeon pye,
+which from its mutilated state could
+not make its appearance, and the
+fruit tarts were scorched to a cinder;
+“but here does not end my perplexity,”
+continued the auditress (who
+looked the picture of Medusa, with
+black snakes hanging over her fiery
+cheek) “for my beautiful blamange
+swan has entirely melted into a mass
+of cream owing to the heat of the
+weather.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind, madam, here’s a very
+good dinner still left to gratify our
+appetites,” said Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“I think so, too,” cried little Mr.
+Coniac, leering his <i>sneaking eyes</i> all
+round the table, and biting his <i>spite-puckered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></i>
+lips, “we’d a pig of the same
+sow at <i>our</i> house the other day.”</p>
+
+<p>“No such a thing, Mr. Coniac,”
+replied his contradicting wife, “you
+know nothing of the matter; I beg
+you’ll never trouble your head with
+my domestic concerns for the pleasure
+of retailing them in company; I
+want no mol-codling husband at my
+heels—I always chose to be directress
+of my own house, from the garret
+to the cellar.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, my dear, no;” replied Mr.
+Coniac, “not directress of the <i>cellar</i>
+neither, that is <i>my</i> department, Mrs.
+Coniac, women have no business in
+cellars for fear of ——” and he
+winked his eye at Mr. Henpeck.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, for fear of the <i>rats</i>,” interrupted
+Mr. Munchausen, “d—n the
+rats—I had one in my cellar the other
+day as big as a rabbit, gnawed me a
+dozen of Madeira corks; but, as luck
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>would have it, never touched those
+of a <i>pipe</i> of <i>port</i> I had just bottled
+and laid down.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, well,” continued Mr. Coniac,
+“I don’t know how it is, but
+I’d rather have four-legged rats than
+two-legged ones; there’s no vermin
+in our cellars, but a devilish lot of
+spirits, that vanish whenever the
+door opens; it matters not who turns
+the key, for when you come to look,
+egad they are all off.”</p>
+
+<p>“Lord! Mr. Coniac,” exclaimed
+his wife, foaming at the mouth with
+<i>anchovy froth</i>, “your disagreeable
+conversation is quite brutal and disgusting.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t quarrel with fish-bones in
+your mouth, Mrs. Coniac,” replied
+her aggravating husband, “take a
+little drop of brandy, my dear, or
+you’ll be sick presently.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Not I, indeed,” replied Mrs. Coniac,
+tossing her head in a terrible
+rage.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, do, madam,” cried Mr.
+Henpeck, “and I’ll pledge you—fish
+is very apt to <i>rise</i> in my stomach.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’m sure fish is likely to
+<i>fall</i> in your stomach,” replied Mrs.
+Henpeck—“Good God, Mr. Henpeck,
+touch a drop of brandy if you
+dare—what would Dr. Tonic say?
+hemph, brandy indeed! <i>I’ll</i> take
+some with Mrs. Coniac, with <i>pleasure</i>;
+but as to you, it’s out of the
+question.”</p>
+
+<p>She then ordered the servant to fill
+out four <i>thimbles</i> full, one of which
+was handed to Lady Flam, another
+to Mrs. Wau Wau (who always sat
+with her mouth <i>open</i> for the ready
+convenience of any consequences
+that might arise from a <i>surcharge</i>) a
+third to Mrs. Coniac, (who never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>used such <i>small</i> glasses at <i>home</i>), and
+the remaining one she tossed off herself.</p>
+
+<p>“What a pretty dance, ‘Drops
+of Brandy’ is,” said Miss Bleary Wau
+Wau.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied the Baron’s great-grandson,
+<i>alias</i> Mr. Munchausen, “I
+have seen many capital <i>reels</i> danced
+to that <i>tune</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ma’r and I are very fond of
+reels,” continued Miss Bleary.</p>
+
+<p>“Not <i>brandy reels</i>, I hope,” whispered
+Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“O you brute! no, to be sure;”
+answered she, “I mean Scotch reels,
+danced with skipping-ropes; you
+should see my <i>Ma’r</i> skip: Commodore
+<i>Grapple</i>, Captain <i>Flash pan</i>, and
+Lieutenant <i>Powder-proof</i>, all India
+folks of our acquaintance, declared
+she skipped scientifically, about two
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>or three years ago, when it was such
+a fashionable amusement.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Nar, now</i>, Bleary, <i>now</i>! you
+make a body blush; consider I’m an
+old <i>duman</i>, you should not talk about
+such nonsense now,” drawled the
+lady mother, grinning like a turnip-ghost
+upon the head of a mischievous
+school-boy’s crab stick, decked
+in the Eastern presents of Messrs.
+Grapple, Flash-pan, and Powder-proof,
+ornamented by <i>Indian pigeon</i>
+feathers, highly <i>perfumed</i>: while
+Miss Bleary, a mere composition of
+musk and otto, was the quintessence
+of affectation.</p>
+
+<p>“Pray,” said Mr. Coniac, sneeringly,
+“who might be the upholsterer
+that furnished your Staffordshire
+villa?”</p>
+
+<p>“Who,” replied Munchausen, “why
+that stilish dog <i>George Oakley</i> to be
+sure, one of the most tasty fellows in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>England; I left it all to his management:
+even the <i>carpet</i> and <i>curtain</i> of
+the <i>buttery</i> were his choice; every
+suite of rooms carries you into a different
+country, we have the Chinese,
+the Grecian, the Parisian, and the
+Russian costume, with transparent
+blinds attached, to correspond, with
+the scenery of the various countries;
+so that I can breakfast in China, dine
+at Paris, and drink tea in Russia,
+every day of my life; and then there’s
+the grounds, the successive houses,
+the forcing tables for my nectarine
+and peaches, where you may sit
+round, and by taking the trouble to
+raise the leaf, every person has the
+pleasure to pluck his own fruit. I
+mean to take Mrs. Munchausen, and
+my family, down, in the course of a
+fortnight, with a few select friends;
+for, to say the truth, I can’t well go
+earlier on account of my new landau-barouche,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>the springs of which
+are so infernal stiff, that I have lent
+it to a friend to give it a fortnight’s
+rattle; but, observe you, I don’t lend
+him my set of greys—no, no, they
+are training in high condition—cost
+me a cool five hundred, and four
+more for the barouche—I’m a sad
+extravagant dog, but I can’t help it:
+it’s a <i>knack</i> I was <i>born</i> with.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” cried the Major, “I can
+content myself with my humble marine
+cottage.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s according to the taste you
+possess, or was bred up in, probably,”
+replied Munchausen, “for my
+part, a <i>Pleb</i> cottage would have nothing
+but the horrors for me; I should
+imagine myself transported to a Dyot-street
+attic, where the pigs, poultry,
+jack-asses, family and Co. independent
+of the live-stock they enjoy
+gratis, all exist in the same enclosure,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span>graced with a garden of wall-flowers,
+stuck in a broken tea-pot to
+conceal the ventilator of the shattered
+crockery casement, and make it
+look <i>rural</i>: or, what think you, by
+way of a <i>cooler</i> prospect, of a <i>canal</i>
+in a <i>red dish</i> full of <i>tittle-bats</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>The company set up a loud laugh;
+but Mr. Munchausen did not smile:
+it was no laughing matter, in his opinion,
+for he had <i>visited such scenes</i>,
+and <i>coloured</i> them to the <i>life</i>.</p>
+
+<p>“Talking of fish-ponds,” resumed
+he, “I have some of the first in England:
+I sent down three waggons of
+Portland stone to dam the banks
+with—one I have fitted up in a peculiar
+style of elegance for gold-fish,
+where, by this time, I suppose I have
+about <i>five hundred brace</i> under the
+good management of my steward,
+who has stocked two extensive canals
+with every description of curious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>and delicious fish, reserving a
+certain snug corner for the accommodation
+of a pair of turtles during their
+appropriate residence in this country,
+according to the statute of their
+existence, that they may enjoy their
+<i>lives</i>, and I their <i>deaths</i>, devoting an
+elegy to their perfection from the pen
+of the <i>jaw-worker’s</i> company, some
+men of <i>taste</i> belonging to which I
+should invite for the express purpose.”</p>
+
+<p>“What a funny man you are,” exclaimed
+Miss Bleary; “is it possible
+you can ever be grave, blessed with
+such a share of spirits as you possess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed,” replied Munchausen,
+“I should have no objection to become
+possessor of a much more <i>eminent
+share</i> of <i>spirits</i>, and make you
+my pretty bar-maid, the cordial drops
+you would retail would revive every
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>expiring cockle in a poissard’s basket,
+and then the world would be
+justified in calling me a <i>rum</i> fellow,
+while your situation would be constituted
+the <i>mart</i> of <i>universal comfort</i>,
+supported by men and women of
+<i>taste</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I should not be thought a
+girl of taste—I thank you kindly,
+Sir,” answered Miss Bleary with
+much resentment, “I’d have you to
+know, Sir, my ideas soar to a palanquin.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! the sweetest lounge upon
+earth—don’t mention such an uncomattable
+luxury: I’ve been carried in
+the most superb stile in one the emperor
+lent me, covered with musical
+bells, that played fifty different successive
+tunes; the mattrass was eider
+down, covered with pink embroidered
+silk, and the curtains were
+fringed with gold—and, egad, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span>slaves scampered along with me at
+the rate of ten miles an hour!”</p>
+
+<p>“Delightful,” exclaimed Lady
+Flam, “how I should like a trip to
+the East, to be waited on by slaves,
+and actually lulled to repose in the
+cradle of luxury, if my time was to
+come over again.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, madam,” replied Major
+Pea-Chick, “but <i>you</i> and <i>I</i> e’ent
+<i>chick-a-biddies</i> now.”</p>
+
+<p>“D——n it,” said Munchausen,
+“you can’t forget <i>trade</i>, the old
+<i>Guinea-hen concern</i> seems to stick in
+your stomach; I’ll thank you to amputate
+me a limb of that duck—ah,
+if you could see my <i>Staffordshire
+duckery</i>, you’d say they exceeded all
+the ’Change-alley waddlers, for we
+hatch them in such abundance, that
+half an acre which I ordered to be
+sowed with onions and sage, is not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>sufficient to season them with, so
+that my cottagers and menials are
+literally <i>gorged</i> with them.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish I was your neighbour,”
+cried Mr. Henpeck, “for ducks are
+a terrible price in London.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pray, Mr. Henpeck, hold your
+tongue; you’ve no business, my dear,
+to trouble yourself with market expences;
+we a’nt going to exact so
+much a-head from our friends after
+dinner, as to explain the various
+prizes like an inn-keeper,” said the
+indignant Mrs. Henpeck, seizing a
+beautiful bowl of sallad, which she
+unmercifully devoured before any of
+the company had partaken of it; and
+after having half bolted it down,
+observing it to be an article in
+much requisition, she actually re-called
+the servant, and returned the remaining
+particles off her plate into
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>the bowl, <i>pro bono publico</i>, which vegetable
+was not again demanded at
+table, for Mr. Munchausen observing
+the circumstance, immediately enlarged
+on the qualities of his spring
+cucumbers.</p>
+
+<p>“My gardiner,” said he, “cut me
+<i>six brace</i> of patagonian cucumbers
+last <i>Valentine’s day</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Natives</i> of <i>Brodinag</i>, I presume,”
+replied Major Pea-Chick, “for I’ll
+be bound they were the <i>only</i> ones in
+England at that <i>period</i> of the season.”</p>
+
+<p>My uncle, who had been a mere
+eating automaton during the retaliating
+snip-snap of Messrs. Munchausen
+and Pea-Chick, and who well
+knew the rhodomontade principles
+of the former, proposed a general
+bumper of Madeira, to wash
+down the patagonian cucumbers,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>which caused another laugh at the
+expence of the credulous.</p>
+
+<p>“You shall not drink Madeira,
+Mr. Henpeck, I assure you,” exclaimed
+his observant wife, just as he had
+raised the bewitching glass to his
+lips, the contents of which he, with
+a brisk mechanical chuck, gulped
+down, before the sentence of forbearance
+reached his ears, the lady not
+having been quick enough in her
+commands, which were never delivered
+in the mildest terms.</p>
+
+<p>This breach of non-conformity encreased
+Mrs. Henpeck’s anger. “If
+you choose to kill yourself, Mr. Henpeck,
+I have no fears of getting a
+third husband, depend upon it—there
+<i>are</i> men who would take my advice,
+and <i>value</i> it too: so play your own
+game, and see who’ll suffer for it in
+the end.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Madam,” cried Mr. Munchausen,
+“it was only an accidental slip over
+the tongue, I declare Mr. Henpeck
+was making <i>full charge</i>, when your
+mandate to <i>halt</i> vibrated on his ear,
+and had he stopped at the moment,
+strangulation had made you a widow
+in the midst of your gala.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, you’re a good hand to help
+a lame dog over a stile, we well
+know,” replied Mrs. Henpeck, helping
+the floating remains of her vanished
+blamange swan, which so reminded
+Lady Flam of a dish of
+cream, that she asked Mr. Munchausen
+if he kept cows?</p>
+
+<p>“O, yes, ma’am,” replied he, “and
+some extraordinary <i>bulls</i> of my own
+breed; I have likewise half a score
+choice buffalos, about five and twenty
+couple of deer, and three score of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>Merino sheep, all the children of liberty
+in my park.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, the lovely brebi’s,” exclaimed
+Lady Flam; then turning to Mrs.
+Coniac, “Oh how I doat on the brebi’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“The what?” enquired Mrs. Coniac,
+to whom Mrs. Flam might as
+well have talked Greek or French:
+“the what, did your ladyship say?”</p>
+
+<p>“The brebi’s, the petite agneau’s.”</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Coniac shook her head in
+non-comprehension.</p>
+
+<p>“What, don’t you know what I
+mean?” resumed her pedantic ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said Mrs. Coniac, very ignorantly.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Flam, astonished, drew up
+her lips to the dimension of a buttonhole,
+exclaiming, “impossible!”
+then dilating them on equal stretch,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>and curving her arched eye brows
+into a frown of incredulity, “incroya’ble,”
+continued she, staring Mrs.
+Coniac from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>“He! he! he!” sniggered Mr. Coniac,
+“my wife don’t understand the
+<i>parley-woo’s</i>—she don’t understand
+French but when I order soup and
+<i>bully</i> of a washing-day. Mrs. Coniac
+never loved school, though she was
+at it the first twenty years of her life,
+but somehow she could never learn
+French.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, not I,” answered Mrs. Coniac
+(with cheek of scarlet indignation,
+who, well knowing the origin
+of Lady Flam was no other than an
+<i>Abcedarian</i> at a London school,
+from whence she eloped in the character
+of <i>chere amie</i> to Lord Flam,
+who afterwards married her). “As I
+was neither bred, or intended for
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>a <i>teacher</i>, it was a science of no consequence
+where my <i>livelihood</i> was not
+<i>dependant</i> upon my abilities.”</p>
+
+<p>Lady Flam, who felt the <i>retort uncourteous</i>,
+instantly replied, “it was
+very fortunate where people’s bread
+was ready buttered to their appetites,
+particularly if they were deficient
+in ability to earn it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, aye,” replied little Coniac,
+“We’ve plenty of bread well buttered
+in my <i>wife’s family cupboard</i>: but
+the <i>lock’s rusty</i> at present, and the
+<i>hinges</i> are creaky, so you see we only
+take a peep through the keyhole.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes,” cried the vulgar pleb
+Major, “we all know you fell with
+your nose in a butter-tub when you
+married.”</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure I did,” replied Mr.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>Coniac, “but I took care not to <i>butter</i>
+my <i>fingers</i> as <i>some folks</i> do.”</p>
+
+<p>The Major coloured from the effect
+of his private feelings on that
+score, but made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>“Egad,” said Munchausen, “I
+should have no objection to fall with
+my nose into a tub of tallow, but the
+chance is gone by I believe; I’ve played
+many harlequin manœuvres in my
+time, skipped out of the frying-pan
+into the fire, leaped from thence on to
+the grid-iron, and been soaked in
+boiling-water, by way of stewing out
+my troubles, have been roasted like
+a red-herring on a fork, and picked
+to pieces, so that all the grease I ever
+possessed, melted away in torrents
+like a pound of rush-lights in the
+dog-days, and now the sweat of my
+brow must make up for’t, that’s all I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>know—I must look sharp after my
+Staffordshire tenantry, and save my
+bacon—yes, yes, they sha’nt gammon
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you play <i>back gammon</i>?” asked
+Lady Flam.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, frequently,” replied
+Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“He is an adept, madam, I assure
+you,” said the Major, “and more
+particularly in the science of <i>face
+gammon</i>: may be that’s a game you
+never heard of, if you are not very intimate
+with Mr. Munchausen.”</p>
+
+<p>“La! what is <i>face gammon</i>?” cried
+Miss Bleary.</p>
+
+<p>“A very deep game, I assure you,”
+replied Munchausen; “extremely
+difficult to attain, because there are
+one hundred different ways of playing
+it, there being no established rule
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>or prescription, so that each party
+plays it according to his own judgment
+and benefit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it played with cards or dice?”
+enquired Mrs. Coniac, (whose husband
+was a dab at <i>back gammon</i> in
+more senses of the word than one.)</p>
+
+<p>“Madam,” replied Munchausen
+gravely, “it is played only with <i>brass</i>
+instruments, such as arrows, lancets,
+shuttlecocks, &amp;c.; in short, it’s by no
+means a lady’s game, tho’ I have seen
+some attempt it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I can’t comprehend it,” replied
+Mrs. Coniac.</p>
+
+<p>“I can only say, it’s a pity you
+should, madam—it ill suits your
+sex,” answered Munchausen, laughing
+in her face.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come,” cried Mrs. Henpeck,
+“you gentlemen seem to be at
+cross purposes—pray don’t measure
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>swords, while we ladies adjourn to
+make your coffee. Mr. Henpeck,
+my dear, remember your restrictions:
+help your friends liberally, but don’t
+exceed three glasses yourself—now
+mind what I say, don’t play the baby
+in my absence—we shall expect you
+in the drawing-room to cards in half
+an hour;” so saying, the ladies following
+in train, withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Henpeck assumed his wife’s
+chair, requesting Mr. Munchausen
+to officiate as vice-president:
+no one better calculated to push the
+bottle, fabricate a story, or confound
+an argument as long as a Chancery
+suit; and, suffice it to say, he completely
+kept the company in a roar,
+till Mrs. Henpeck’s patience being
+quite exhausted, her card table all
+arranged, and her coffee cold, rushed
+into the room like an unexpected
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>hurricane, insisting Mr. Henpeck
+was an invalid, and should drink no
+longer.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Vice,” cried she, “pray
+oblige me by doing the duties of the
+chair, and supplying every gentleman’s
+glass—but as to my dear Mr.
+Henpeck, he shall not take poison
+before my face—he must and shall
+retire with me to the drawing-room,”
+saying which, she linked her arm
+within his, and led the placid soul
+out of the room in triumph, thereby
+setting an example we all felt compelled
+to follow; and, therefore, as
+he had marched off under the flying
+colours of petticoat government, we
+had only to bring up the rear,
+which we immediately did, each digesting
+his own opinion upon the
+transaction.</p>
+
+<p>Coffee having been cleared away,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>Mrs. Henpeck arranged us at the
+card-table, as follows:</p>
+
+<p>My uncle and Lady Flam, with
+Mrs. Coniac and Munchausen; Mr.
+Coniac and Mrs. Wau-Wau, versus
+Major Pea-Chick and Mrs. Henpeck.
+Miss Bleary and Mr. Henpeck,
+and myself, were seated at
+three handed cribbage.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_VII">
+    CHAP. VII.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>No sooner had the whist group
+taken their seats than an exclamation
+from Mr. Munchausen roused every
+body’s attention.</p>
+
+<p>“D——n it,” said he, “I’m neatly
+dished:” searching his pocket
+nearly as low as his knees, “changed
+my small clothes before I came
+out, and egad the d——l a sous
+have I got. Who’ll be so kind to
+lend me half a guinea, or five shillings?
+I’ll give it them again to-morrow.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>Mr. Tweazy, Sir, may I beg the favour
+of you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir,” said my uncle, very deliberately,
+“I have no more in my
+pocket than the exigencies of my own
+game may demand, neither has my
+nephew, for we were obliged to have
+recourse to the housekeeper’s purse
+for all the silver we could collect.”</p>
+
+<p>This was a glorious hint to me,
+which, from my uncle’s manner, I
+plainly perceived had some peculiar
+inuendo inexplicable at the moment,
+or I had most readily complied with
+Mr. Munchausen’s request.</p>
+
+<p>He next applied to Major Pea-Chick,
+who declared he had only a
+solitary seven shilling piece and a
+five pounder in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Well, that wouldn’t do, and Munchausen
+bit his nails.</p>
+
+<p>“Coniac, my dear fellow, can you
+assist me?” continued he; but Coniac
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>too was poor, and must take care of
+himself, so what was to be done.</p>
+
+<p>“Why give your draft,” said the
+Major, “it will be <i>honour</i>, at the
+<i>pump</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“What by washing away his debts
+of honour, I suppose you mean,”
+cried Mr. Coniac.</p>
+
+<p>“True,” replied Munchausen, nothing
+daunted, “I can give my note.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, you’re a <i>noted</i> dog we all
+know,” said Mr. Henpeck. “Here
+I’ll lend you five shillings.”</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Henpeck looked <i>unutterable</i>
+things, but for once she did not reprove,
+and in the sequel of the game
+Mr. Munchausen left off half a crown
+winner; and, gentleman-like, politely
+returned Mr. Henpeck’s loan.</p>
+
+<p>Sandwiches and fruit succeeded;
+and at twelve we took our respective
+leaves: Miss Wau-Wau and her mama
+were escorted home by Major
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>Pea-Chick: Mrs. Coniac <i>sailed</i> out
+of the house like a full <i>furled man of
+war</i>, and her husband leering under
+his deep slouched beaver, sneaked
+after, while Lady Flam, to mortify
+Mrs. Coniac, offered my uncle and self
+seats in her chariot, the acceptance
+of which she would take no denial
+to; which, though extremely averse
+to the principles of my uncle, politeness
+compelled him to comply with,
+and we actually drove off before Mrs.
+Coniac could make the <i>clogs fit</i> at
+all, while a carriage stood at the
+door, to her a convenience at all
+times most desirable; and of which
+she still anticipated the possession
+when her old rich aunt resigned it
+for one of <i>Jarvis’s patent</i> accommodations.</p>
+
+<p>Thus ended our medley visit, and
+much rejoiced was I to press my
+pillow, and dream of meeting Rosa
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>at the sacred fane of piety next
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle’s hour of breakfast on
+the Sabbath was nine precisely, that
+he might have time to dress for
+church without hurrying himself, for
+no man alive was more punctual to
+religious duties; and as the church
+tinkled its triple chime, off we set,
+followed by Geoffry with the books,
+who escorted Mrs. Esther Rebecca
+Susanna Rangewell, the house-keeper,
+on his arm, dressed in rich brocade
+lutestring, and her stiff starched
+book-muslin apron and handkerchief,
+bedecked with her master’s old point
+ruffles—oh, what a swell she cut as
+she waggled out of the gate, full
+dressed, to see old Geoffry’s <i>village
+angel</i>, alias Miss Fitzclarence, on
+whose beauty and accomplishments
+Geoffry had rung such a peal in Mrs.
+Esther Rebecca Susanna’s ears, that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>the antiquated dame was absolutely
+half <i>jealous</i> to think he could prefer
+any body to herself, after living together,
+as they had done, in love and
+harmony for thirty years. But Geoffry
+was a man of <i>taste</i>, superior to a
+<i>French cook</i>—and though his knowledge
+did not extend much beyond
+the best peach, or the finest rose in
+the garden, he had perspicuity to
+discern, that neither excelled the
+<i>cheek</i> of Miss Fitzclarence.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at the pew-door, we reverently
+took our seats, amidst the assembly
+of the whole village, for curiosity,
+like a summer sun, had drawn
+every snail from its shell, and even
+Messrs. Fungus and Deposit, had
+supported the fatigue of a fag, in the
+broiling heat, above a mile, <i>to see</i> this
+divine creature.</p>
+
+<p>My uncle nudged my elbow, and
+by the direction of his intelligent eye,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>directed mine to the opposite pew,
+where sat the amiable Mrs. Markwell
+and her lovely protegee—a reciprocal
+bow passed between us—but
+such a radiance of sublimity as illuminated
+the countenance of Rosa, I
+never beheld—her devotion was fervent,
+her eye never wandered; Eloise
+in her confessional was not more recluse
+from the incitement of public
+gaze, unconscious that every eye benignant,
+or malicious, levelled its
+scrutiny on her most minute action.</p>
+
+<p>There was no organ—an uncouth
+rustic sounded the pitch pipe, and
+Rosa’s seraph voice caught every
+ear—’twas melody extatic—’twas
+harmony divine—I could have leaped
+the pew and pressed her to my
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Five different times had Mrs. Deposit
+changed her seat from one corner
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>to the other, but still a protruding
+pillar precluded a full view, and
+a sidelong glance was the most she
+could possibly obtain.</p>
+
+<p>The service ended, the congregation
+(peasantry excepted) drew up in
+the church porch to make their reverent
+obeisances to the Rector, and
+enjoy a full stare at Rosa, who stood
+by his side, whilst my uncle and I
+remained silent spectators in the
+back-ground, to avoid the malevolence
+of satirical observers; and
+thanks to heaven, the worthy rector,
+aware of the impertinent curiosity
+her reported beauty had excited, led
+her from the rude gaze of her surrounding
+complimenters.</p>
+
+<p>The throng dispersing, we followed,
+unnoticed, to the Rectory, where
+the smiles of benignity welcomed us
+in every countenance.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span></p>
+
+<p>I took my seat beside Rosa—I
+gazed in rapture, and my uncle’s
+eyes glistened in tears, as he thanked
+the good Rector for his excellent
+sermon, observing, he had never favoured
+his congregation with it before.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t thank me, my dear Sir,”
+replied Dr. Markwell, “it is Miss
+Fitzclarence who selected it from
+her library, as the composition of the
+celebrated Blair-’tis therefore to her
+taste and judgment your thanks are
+due.”</p>
+
+<p>“I then fervently acknowledge the
+favour and satisfaction I have received
+from hearing so excellent a
+discourse,” replied my uncle, “though
+I much fear,” continued he, “it made
+very little impression on Mrs. Fungus,
+or Mrs. Deposit, their curiosity
+seemed to me to be more prevalent
+than their devotion.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p>
+
+<p>“We received a visit from them
+very unexpected—and, I must say,
+unwished,” answered the Rector,
+“my sweet Rosa contributed every
+thing in her power to entertain them,
+but their flippant mock consequence
+was so evident and disgusting, that
+necessity compelled me to ask them
+if they eat nettles, as I had been told
+there was a species of them that <i>envenomed</i>
+the tongue, but that Miss
+Fitzclarence had favoured my family
+with an antidote superior to my recipe
+in the Pharmacopia: and should
+such an effect ever attack them, she
+would administer it with pleasure;
+they burst into an effected laugh—and
+when they did us the <i>favour</i> to
+take their departure, I believe Rosa
+did not regret it.”</p>
+
+<p>Rosa nodded assent; but as calumny
+had never parched her coral
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>lip, she would not contaminate it
+now.</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Sir,” said she, “strangers
+are not prepossessing; and
+though I had the happiness to captivate
+<i>you</i> at first sight (when your extended
+arm clasped me to your bosom,
+and your benignant voice hailed
+me as your child); those ladies
+might consider me in a very different
+point of view—young and unpractised
+as I am in the school of modern life,
+I am, I hope, the harmless child of
+nature.”</p>
+
+<p>“And they are the vile pupils of
+art,” exclaimed the Rector, interrupting
+her, “the corruption of the
+village—and glad shall I be when
+the voluptuous scenes of London recalls
+their hateful company from our
+valley of peace and contentment; and
+I don’t doubt but Mrs. Deposit’s Loo
+club will, in the course of next winter
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>be established every <i>Sunday</i> evening,
+where their adoration will be
+paid at the shrine of Pam.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir, sir, you make me tremble,”
+exclaimed Rosa; “is it possible such
+conduct can be countenanced or suffered
+in a christian country.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! my child, too possible—’tis
+even in some instances become
+habitual, though I grieve to acknowledge
+it even in my closet, that the
+infection may never produce the direful
+contagion in any circle of my connexion.”</p>
+
+<p>“My father, alas! was too much
+addicted to its baneful influence, I
+have heard say,” sighed the beauteous
+Rosa, “and caused my beloved
+and excellent mother much grief
+on the occasion, but all her prudential
+remonstrances were vain, he played
+deep, but in general very successful.
+Yet, with all his excess of folly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>he never profaned the sabbath with
+that dreadful innovation of its laws,
+though many other vices were attached
+to the unhappy principles he possessed.”</p>
+
+<p>The soft tear of sensibility fell
+from the eye of Rosa—it flowed from
+the spring of nature, and in its fall
+rested on the string of coral suspended
+round her alabaster bosom.</p>
+
+<p>“My sweet Rosa,” observed Dr.
+Markwell, who had so unknowingly
+touched the chord of sympathy in her
+susceptible heart. “If I have roused
+a dormant and unpleasing recollection
+in your bosom, banish it at
+the shrine of my contrition, resume
+your charming wonted gaiety of
+heart, and by way of diverting the
+subject, will you shew Mr. St. Alban
+my prize carnation bed.”</p>
+
+<p>Rosa instantly caught up her parasol,
+and I followed her, like a second
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>Adam; for, blessed with her
+society, that little spot of ground
+was paradise, and never shall I forget
+the combination and excess of
+feeling I at that moment experienced,
+as taking her soft hand, I pressed it
+to my lip, and drew it with familiar
+fond and timid perturbation through
+my proffered arm.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa led me to the blooming parterre,
+and here I soon discovered she
+was <i>mistress</i> of <i>botany</i>, while I in return
+would have given worlds to convince
+her I was an equal <i>adept</i> in the
+science of <i>love</i>. Her expatiation,
+which would have charmed a naturalist,
+was to me logic, whilst my
+head and heart were replete with a
+subject so different.</p>
+
+<p>I admired the carnations—but I
+admired the fair narratress of their
+beauties much more.</p>
+
+<p>“Those flowers are beautiful,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>said I, pointing (I confess with a roguish
+intent) to a bed of heart’s-ease,
+one of which my innocent, my unsuspecting,
+companion stooped to gather
+and present me with.</p>
+
+<p>“Examine minutely the brilliant
+velvet of that purple leaf, Mr. St.
+Alban,” said she, “it’s a simple little
+flower, but it ranks high in my
+estimation.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, then, must it do in mine,
+charming Rosa, as a present from
+you?” replied I.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, if you really admire them,”
+resumed the innocent Rosa, unconscious
+of my fallacious metaphor,
+“I’ll have a plot dug up, and send
+them you to-morrow morning, with
+pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p>At this portentous moment, a vagrant
+rose bush caught the robe of
+Rosa, and made her its momentary
+prisoner.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You are caught, Miss Fitzclarence,”
+said I, laughingly, “give me
+leave to extricate you, and I’ll punish
+the offender by divesting it of part
+of its beauty;” saying which, I cropped
+a beautiful rose, and placed it in
+her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>This badinage d’amour had, perchance,
+explained all I wished, if the
+appearance of my uncle, and the
+Rector, had not interfered.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come, are you taking lessons
+on botany from your fair tutoress?”
+said my uncle, “if so, you
+may resume your studies at tea-time,
+as we shall pass our evening here by
+Dr. Markwell’s kind invitation—at
+present we’ll walk home.”</p>
+
+<p>“Adieu, Miss Fitzclarence,” said
+I, “we shall meet again e’er sun-set,
+and renew our pleasing and instructive
+theme.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Come early,” said the soft voice
+of Rosa, as she closed the gate after
+us: nor was her look less inviting
+than her words, “come early, that
+we may renew our botanical researches
+e’er the shades of evening closes
+the flowers, if my worthy monitor
+does not deem it an improper amusement:
+for sure in <i>contemplating</i> the
+sublimity of nature, we must at the
+same moment <i>adore</i> the Creator of
+it.”</p>
+
+<p>“What sentiments that lovely girl
+possesses,” exclaimed my uncle,
+“she not only steals my heart, but
+my very soul—I love her already as
+a darling child, and I begin to feel
+every hour languid that is not passed
+in her company.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hold, Sir,” cried I, “don’t make
+me more enthusiastic than I am. If
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>you behold her with <i>admiration</i>,
+what must I do?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, love her most sincerely,
+no doubt,” said my uncle, “what
+more would you do?”</p>
+
+<p>“And what less can any mortal
+do who beholds her?” replied I,
+“but what will Dr. Markwell say?”</p>
+
+<p>“What will your father say, more
+likely,” answered my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, my God,” cried I, “in consulting
+my own choice, I never thought
+of his dissent.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you don’t know he will dissent,”
+continued my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! I fear it—and then again
+my prescribed fortune, subjoined to
+his caprice, makes me shudder at
+the reflection of my temerity—Rosa,
+too, an heiress, rich, beautiful, accomplished:
+may not her ideas soar
+to equal, or superior, possessions?
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>she who might command a coronet—she,
+whom eastern idolators might
+worship, will she prefer and accept
+the humble St. Alban! No, no, there’s
+folly in the thought; I have no pretension—I
+feel I have none—nor dare
+I reveal them to my father, who
+would instantly crush my presumptive
+hopes.”</p>
+
+<p>“He shan’t crush them, by G—d,”
+said my uncle, vehemently, striking
+his stick against a cottage paling with
+such force, that a little yelping dog
+flew furiously to the gate, followed
+by a pretty little girl, who endeavoured
+to pacify the animal.</p>
+
+<p>“Fury! Fury!” cried she, “how
+dare you bark at his honour,” and
+she dropped a low curtsey.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that you, Cicely?” said
+my uncle, “how is your mother, and
+the twins?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Brave and charming, please your
+honour.”</p>
+
+<p>“And have you been to church?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, your honour.”</p>
+
+<p>“And where was the text?”</p>
+
+<p>Cicely repeated it fluently.</p>
+
+<p>“Good girl,” said I, giving her a
+shilling; the child’s bright eyes glistened,
+and she dropped me half a
+dozen curtseys. My uncle gave her
+something for her mother, with which
+Cicely and Fury re-entered the cottage.</p>
+
+<p>“Mark the effects of fidelity, civility,
+and truth, how each attain their
+own reward. The fidelity of the dog
+in retaliating the noise I made, thereby
+to preserve the property of which
+he knew himself guardian, caused
+the civil interference of Cicely, who
+by demonstrating the truth, in repeating
+the text, was rewarded by
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>you, and thus,” continued my uncle,
+“out of evil cometh good, sure
+enough.”</p>
+
+<p>We soon after reached home,
+where Alice opened the hall-door to
+us, Geoffry being in the garden gathering
+our desert.</p>
+
+<p>“Lack-a-daisey! stars alive!”
+cried she, “Sir, what a heavenly-looking
+young lady Miss <i>Fitzthingembob</i>
+is, surely: I knows no more
+about the sermont then if I’d been at
+Jericho, for I could attend to nothing,
+God forgive me—I never was
+so <i>onpious</i> in my life; but Geoffry
+says I have committed no sin, for
+looking at, and admiring, a godly
+person is like unto being in an angel’s
+company, and that’s no harm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alice,” cried my uncle, “you’re
+a woman of discernment: and I can
+tell you Miss Fitzclarence is as good
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>as she is handsome; but don’t let the
+contemplation of her virtues make
+you forget your own—therefore, go
+and inspect my dinner concerns.”</p>
+
+<p>Alice withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>“The whole village is infected
+with the mania of admiration: men,
+women, and children,” said my uncle,
+“and as to you and I, I believe we
+are incurables.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a complaint that will bring
+few grist to Dr. Tonic’s mill, though,”
+replied I.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall banter him, however,
+upon it, you may depend,” said my
+uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was now served up; during
+which, it was a constant rule of
+my uncle’s never to enlarge on <i>family
+topics</i>, politics, or any private conversation,
+before <i>servants</i>, whom he
+always styled “telegraphs of mischief;”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>our topics, therefore, were
+confined to common occurrences,
+such as the wind and weather.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_VIII">
+    CHAP. VIII.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>As soon as our desert was placed
+on table, Dr. Tonic, the formidable,
+rang at the gate: and, as usual,
+stalked into the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Fine day! hem—hem—how dy’e
+do?” and down he sat, wiping his
+bronze countenance.</p>
+
+<p>“Its excessive hot,” continued he;
+“I called to look at your barometer—mine’s
+up to ninety-two—how
+stands yours, eh, squire, eh?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It hangs in the corner, I have not
+consulted it to-day, I have had better
+amusement,” replied my uncle;
+“what think you of our sermon this
+morning?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, very fair! very fair!—<i>long
+enough</i>, in all conscience.”</p>
+
+<p>“But not <i>so long</i> as your <i>consience</i>,
+Mr. Doctor,” said my uncle,
+“it was one of Miss Fitzclarence’s
+I understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hey! what! hem, hem—one of
+Miss Fitzclarence’s <i>making</i>, did you
+say?” asked the Doctor, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” replied my uncle, in the
+key F sharp, “I did not say any
+such thing: I said it was one of <i>her
+sermons</i>—but it does not follow that
+she <i>composed</i> it; why, you’re mad: I
+only meant to observe, it was one of
+her choosing, and a finer or more sublime
+discourse, to the heart, I never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>heard: I won’t pretend to say how
+you might <i>feel</i> it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I hope he won’t tip us
+such a long one next Sunday: for I
+can assure you my beef was boiled to
+rags in consequence of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I hope <i>as</i> you fasted you
+prayed,” said my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“I did,” replied the doctor, “for
+the <i>end</i> of the sermon, but it did not
+avail.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t wonder at that,” said my
+uncle, “you know the <i>adage</i> without
+explanation, I’m sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“How demure our new visitor sat,
+and how <i>loud</i> she sung,” continued
+the doctor; “did you see Mrs. Deposit
+laughing behind her? for, egad,
+she’s kicked the skin off my wife’s
+shin, she was so diverted with the
+little girl’s piety.”</p>
+
+<p>“Poor <i>idiot</i>!” exclaimed my uncle
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>taking a pinch of snuff, “unhappy
+lunatic!”</p>
+
+<p>“Idiot! lunatic!” repeated Dr.
+Tonic with astonishment, “who dy’e
+mean? what dy’e mean? how dy’e
+mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“I mean,” answered my uncle
+fiercely, “that Mrs. Deposit is an
+<i>idiot</i> to ridicule the pious deportment
+of the exemplary Miss Fitzclarence;
+and a <i>lunatic</i> to expose her impious
+folly by laughing in a church: I’ll
+tell you what, Doctor, if you don’t
+blister her distemper, I shall turn
+physician <i>extraordinary</i>, <i>without fee</i>,
+and apply one myself the first time I
+see occasion.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hah! hah! hah!” chuckled the
+Doctor, “will you accept of a pot of
+my Spanish flies?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, thank you, I am already
+provided,” answered my uncle, looking
+very grave, “you may have occasion
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>for all your stock to counteract
+the epidemic fever that reigns so
+contagious in the village.”</p>
+
+<p>“Fever! fever! what fever? I’ve
+heard of none,” cried the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“Poh!” cried my uncle, “how
+you attend to business: if you send
+your son Bob to feel Mrs. Deposit
+and Mrs. Fungus’s pulse, he’ll find
+them scorching alive with the <i>fever</i>
+of <i>envy</i>—they’ll be good customers
+for your saline mixtures. Then
+there’s Mrs. Coniac, and Mrs. Henpeck,
+they must have <i>extra draughts</i>:
+likewise Mrs. Windfall, Mrs. Wau-Wau,
+Lady Flam, Widow Quiz,
+and Mrs. Dashwell, must all go on
+the <i>yellow</i> sick list—aye, and even
+your daughters, Miss Wau-Wau, and
+Miss Macfriz, will be obliged to
+swallow pills in consequence of the
+infection; for, depend upon it, they’ve
+all caught the distemper—I give you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>joy, you’ll have a long job of it, for
+it’s a devilish incurable complaint.—Now,
+as to Lady Lustre, Mrs. Downright,
+Mrs. Prolix, Mrs. Markwell,
+the Rector, myself, Victor, Alice,
+Rangewell, Geoffry, and all the villagers,
+must have a different remedy,
+for the whole squad are affected with
+an extreme opposite attack, stiled a
+sort of <i>love</i> fever, no ways prejudicial
+to the female sex, but very curable
+in most males. Now, Doctor, if
+you can exert your skill by curing
+these <i>yellow fever</i> gentry, you’ll establish
+your celebrity for ever.”</p>
+
+<p>The Doctor could only laugh, for
+he had no words to invalidate the
+argument.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll tell you what,” said my uncle,
+filling the Doctor a bumper of bucelis,
+“if Miss Fitzclarence could but
+innoculate us all with her virtues, as
+you vaccinate the parish, what a new
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>and happy set of beings we should
+appear—come, drink her health,
+“Fitzclarence for ever!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Lord no,” said the Doctor,
+“Fitzclarence as long as she pleases,
+but not <i>for ever</i>—consider she’s a
+d—d fine girl, she must not die an
+old maid.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not for the world,” replied my
+uncle, “though sometimes there’s
+little difference between a woman’s
+<i>driving monkies</i>, or leading apes.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re satirical, Sir—you’re too
+severe, upon my soul,” cried the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“England’s motto for that, Doctor,”
+replied my uncle, “I said no
+harm—I aimed no arrow, fly as it
+might; you grow touchy in your old
+age, high mettled chicks have quick
+pulses, they tell me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said the Doctor, “and old
+game cocks have <i>spurs</i>, I’ll assure
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>you, that can strike pretty <i>home</i> occasionally;
+talking of game cocks,
+by the bye, puts me in mind of that
+<i>old game dorking</i> mother Henpeck—you
+passed the day there, I heard,
+yesterday—you was <i>well entertained</i>,
+no doubt; mice don’t starve in that
+cupboard, hem! hem! I’m going up
+to the Rectory this afternoon, with
+my daughter Elizetta, just by way
+of introduction so as to establish an
+intimate footing between her and
+Miss Fitzclarence, charming clever
+girl—an acquaintance worth cultivating—gain
+something by it, perhaps.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you’re sure you can <i>lose
+nothing</i>,” cried my uncle, peevishly,
+and much vexed to hear of his intended
+visit to the Rectory. “I dare
+say,” continued he, “Dr. Markwell
+and the ladies will be out: we were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>to have taken tea, and a walk together.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, here! taken tea here?”
+enquired the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Here</i>, or <i>there</i>, no matter which,”
+replied my uncle, “but at all events
+it was a reciprocal engagement,
+which makes me say I think you’ll
+not find them at home.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we can but go and see,”
+said the Doctor, nothing dismayed,
+“if we don’t find them at home, we
+shall conclude they are here, and we
+can <i>join</i> your walk in the evening,
+you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“No: I don’t know any such
+thing,” answered my uncle, “it’s an
+equal chance we don’t walk at all;
+I may not be inclined, perhaps: and
+they, I’m sure, will have too much
+good manners to leave me at home
+alone.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, of course,” rejoined
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>the Doctor, looking very foolish at
+not receiving an expected invitation
+to join the tea party, as he imagined,
+and rising precipitately from his chair,
+“we’ll set off and try our luck, however,”
+cried he, “so, good day, gentlemen,”
+and away he went.</p>
+
+<p>“Deuce take the man,” exclaimed
+my uncle, “how he perplexes and
+counteracts all my plans: now I
+won’t go to Markwell’s: I’ll send
+Geoffry to say so: all the delightful
+and edifying converse I anticipated
+will be marred by his scandalous
+babbling larum, and before breakfast
+to-morrow the whole village will
+know what we all <i>said</i>, <i>did</i>, and even
+<i>thought</i>, with a correct catalogue of
+how many pieces of bread and butter
+each person eat, and the precise
+attitude in which Miss Fitzclarence
+sipped her tea: therefore, I won’t go,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>Victor—I can’t bear it—I shall be
+out of temper all night.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall be greatly disappointed,
+Sir,” said I—“don’t send Geoffry:
+let us take a walk up, at all risks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well! well! have your own
+way,” replied my uncle, “but as
+Tonic and his chit are gone off, full
+tilt, I shan’t stir this hour to come.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rosa will <i>expect</i> to see us, at all
+events,” said I in the mildest, humblest,
+tone I could assume.</p>
+
+<p>“Most likely,” rejoined my uncle,
+“and <i>you</i> expect to see Rosa—yes,
+yes—I comprehend.”</p>
+
+<p>I now dared not say another word
+about it, and different topics took
+their turn, till the irksome hour had
+elapsed; and, as I began to fidget on
+my chair, and draw my watch, my
+uncle caught the hint of my impatience,
+and calling for his hat and cane,
+instantly set off for the Rectory,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>where we expected to find the Tonics,
+but to our great satisfaction
+Dr. Markwell informed us, they had
+called and left their card in the absence
+of the family; for, as there was
+no afternoon service, they had strolled
+with Rosa to shew her the adjacent
+prospects that bounded the village,
+and make some calls of cottage
+benevolence, in the Rector’s usual
+way; and in one of these visits the
+Tonics missed them, and no doubt
+returned very sullenly home again,
+keeping an Argus’s eye on my uncle’s
+gate, to see the expected tea-visitors,
+while we were most happily employed
+in the romantic seclusion of the
+Rectory: my uncle and Dr. Markwell
+commenting over Macklin’s superb
+bible, with which a certain bishop
+had presented him, and Rosa
+and I botanizing till the evening dews
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>compelled us to decline our amusement,
+and commence another theme.</p>
+
+<p>As we approached the parlour-window,
+we distinctly heard the gentlemen
+in earnest conversation; and,
+in order not to interrupt them, we returned
+to a little romantic sort of hermitage,
+on which the resplendent
+moon-beams played in full lustre
+through the acacia boughs, lightly
+waving in the evening breeze, as the
+dulcet nightingale twitted her sombre
+lullaby, in cadence broken, or irregularly
+sinking to repose within her
+foilaged nest.</p>
+
+<p>The hour, the scene, the opportunity,
+was most auspicious; we took
+a seat—my arm encircled the waist
+of Rosa, whose soft blue eyes were
+fixed upon the beauteous evening
+star.</p>
+
+<p>“Behold,” cried she, “yon glorious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>planet—lovely resplendent gem
+of heaven—’tis Venus.”</p>
+
+<p>“Queen of love,” answered I, abruptly,
+“whose <i>celestial shadow</i> I
+<i>there</i> behold, whilst I <i>here</i> clasp the
+<i>terrestrial substance</i>”—and what effervent
+rhapsody followed, I shall suppress,
+and leave to the reader’s imagination,
+merely observing, before
+Rosa Fitzclarence, and Victor St. Alban,
+quitted the hermitage, he had
+sworn eternal love by the light of the
+moon, and sacred fidelity, pure as
+the lustre of the evening star, the celestial
+witnesses of his fervent vows
+scarce breathed in whisper, e’er the
+voice of Dr. Markwell broke upon
+our ear, and hastening from the seat,
+the beauteous Rosa, whose trembling
+hand rested on my arm, close to her
+palpitating heart, entered the room,
+suffused in blushes, to which I rapturously
+felt I had given birth, as the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>candles beamed full upon her face,
+where love’s temerity did not permit
+him to discern a frown of disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Mark well now requested Rosa
+to favour us with some of the exquisite
+airs from the Messiah, which
+she executed on the piano in such
+masterly style, that Handel might
+have stood entranced with admiration.</p>
+
+<p>“Rosa makes her piano talk, positively,”
+said the amiable and charming
+Mrs. Markwell.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed, it speaks to the
+heart pretty eloquently,” replied my
+uncle: “I’ll tell you what, young
+lady,” continued he, “you have a
+great deal to answer for; it is not
+clear to me, but all the epidemics in
+the village will be laid to your
+charge: you are a very <i>dangerous</i>
+young lady—you rob us of our
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>hearts”—my uncle paused, leered at
+me, and Rosa’s cheek was scarlet
+with hermitage conviction, as he thus
+continued: “Yes, you make us invalidate
+our understanding, by your
+superior knowledge and perfections;
+you kill all the women with envy,
+and you deal daggers among the
+men;” then, turning jocosely to myself,
+and looking earnestly at Dr.
+Markwell, “guilty, or not guilty,
+what say you both? behold the culprit
+smiling at her crimes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Guilty! guilty!” replied I, emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>“And am I not allowed to make
+my defence?” asked Rosa, “unconscious
+as I am of conviction.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your condemnation is general—your
+actions speak for themselves,”
+cried my uncle, who had fixed himself
+at her elbow, and was enthusiastically
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>pressing her hand between
+his.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I must bow to the decision
+of my jurors,” continued Rosa, “but
+I hope, if I should hereafter be accused
+of that heinous crime called
+vanity, I shall find friends in court
+to allow every lenity for the offence,
+when they reflect on the source from
+whence it could alone originate: I
+have never been used to adulation
+from my birth, and it’s a science I cannot
+inculcate.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pardon me, my child, it’s a baneful
+weed that does not grow in our
+village,” said the Rector, “suffer me,
+for the first time, to correct your opinion
+on that head as erroneous, for I
+am bold to say, those friends you now
+behold are no adulators.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, by heavens,” replied my uncle,
+“and I trust <i>time</i> and circumstance
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>will convince Miss Fitzclarence
+of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s in vain to contend the point,”
+answered Rosa, extending a lilly
+hand to my uncle and the Rector,
+“thus, thus, accept my grateful
+thanks for your good opinion, which
+I shall hope ever to cherish and deserve
+in a still more eminent degree.”</p>
+
+<p>“And won’t you subjoin mine,
+Miss Fitzclarence?” asked I, extending
+my hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Could Mr. St. Alban suppose
+himself excluded in those sentiments
+of gratitude? ah, if he did, he little
+knew the heart of Rosa.”</p>
+
+<p>At this unguarded moment I seized
+her hand, I pressed it to my daring
+lip, but Rosa gently withdrawing
+it, awaked my reverie, as did the reprehension
+of my uncle, who observed
+I was a more gallant fellow than
+he supposed me to be.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p>
+
+<p>We soon after partook sandwiches,
+and at the sober hour of ten left Rosa,
+and the worthy family, to their
+private and regular system of evening
+prayer.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_IX">
+    CHAP. IX.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“You had a fine long chat with
+Rosa, in the garden,” said my uncle,
+as we walked home.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied I, “such a one as
+will <i>never</i> be forgotten by me.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a mighty emphatical <i>never</i>,”
+repeated my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“It is, however, a reality,” said I.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what conversation can have
+made so deep an impression on your
+mind?” continued he.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p>
+
+<p>“The language of the heart, the extacies
+of the soul, which in the moment
+of impulse, I revealed to Rosa.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have?” said my uncle,
+grasping my arm tighter.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Sir, most solemnly, I swear
+it—and never will I for a moment be
+guilty of duplicity to you—by your
+counsel I will ever abide; and, if I
+attain the accomplishment of my
+hopes, ’tis to you <i>only</i> I shall be indebted
+for the earthly bliss I may
+enjoy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Noble boy,” exclaimed my uncle;
+“I blame no part of your conduct
+but the precipitancy of your explanation.”</p>
+
+<p>“But do you reflect on the torments
+of suspence, to counterbalance
+that precipitancy? do you consider
+the priority of <i>rivalship</i>? do you
+think it possible any man can behold
+Rosa Fitzclarence with a heart
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>of indifference? and may not that
+heart be devoted in a moment, whilst
+I, through the idle prepossession of
+diffidence, became its unalterable
+victim, and lead a life of despair.”</p>
+
+<p>My uncle uttered one of his deepest
+groans, but made no reply—and
+by this time we reached home.</p>
+
+<p>“Success and happiness attend
+you, my boy,” said my uncle, as he
+closed the door of his apartment, with
+his eyes suffused in tears. “Don’t
+be too sanguine, I’ll make a point of
+conversing with Dr. Markwell on the
+subject, from whom I shall gain much
+information, as he is the intimate
+friend of the guardian who consigned
+Rosa to his protection, at the period
+of whose return from the continent
+all her concerns will be settled, and
+she becomes her own mistress, if
+with a disengaged heart, vive l’amour,
+and Victor St. Alban, if——”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></p>
+
+<p>“For heaven’s sake, not another
+word, that <i>if</i> is dagger sufficient,”
+cried I, closing my door to press my
+pillow, and ruminate on hopes and
+fears, for certainty of her sentiments
+I had none; Dr. Markwell’s interruption
+had precluded even the most
+faultering syllable from escaping her
+lips—time, and patience, were the
+only alternatives, and I was compelled
+to abide by them.</p>
+
+<p>With sleepless eyes, and feverish
+anxiety, I left my thorny restless pillow
+the moment I heard the domestics
+arranging the house, and without
+knowing why, directed my wandering
+footsteps to the Rectory, without
+reflecting on the impropriety of
+such an early intrusion—but rosy-footed
+love would not be checked in
+his career, though the path had been
+strewn with thorns, and I found myself
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>at the gate before I knew I was
+half way there.</p>
+
+<p>I gazed earnestly around: Rosa’s
+chamber-window was thrown open,
+but the closed shutters of the good
+Rector denoted he was still in the
+embraces of Morpheus. My heart
+beat high—no Rosa made her appearance.
+A cow-boy advanced towards
+the spot—’twas little Peter, the gardner’s
+son, who worked for Dr. Markwell:
+the boy was alternately whistling
+the cows along, and munching a
+handful of cold suet pudding.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know Miss Rosa?” asked
+I.</p>
+
+<p>“Ees, Sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you seen her this morning?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ees, Sir,” and he took another
+mouthful of pudding.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you tell where she is?”</p>
+
+<p>“Noa, Sir.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span></p>
+
+<p>“How long ago did you see her?”</p>
+
+<p>“A main good bit,”—and down
+went another piece of pudding, which
+Peter regarded more than my enquiry.</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me,” continued I, taking
+out all the halfpence I had, and putting
+them in his spare hand, “tell
+me where to find her.”</p>
+
+<p>Peter stuffed the last morsel of
+pudding into his mouth, eyed the
+halfpence, which he pocketted, and
+half choaking, with a variety of faces
+to clear his mouth, and pointing with
+his smutty finger down the opposite
+lane, exclaimed, “yonder be’es leady
+a-coming.”</p>
+
+<p>Away I flew, and met her in a moment;
+she had been herberising on
+the heath that bounded one extremity
+of the village, and had collected
+in a little willow basket, a variety of
+wild blossoms, which she smilingly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>told me were for her pupil, St. Alban’s
+edification.</p>
+
+<p>We soon entered into a more interesting
+conversation, for I persuaded
+her to return to the heath, where, unheard
+and unseen, our intercourse
+was sacred, and in this sequestered
+spot I again renewed the subject of
+my thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa heard me with attention: her
+ingenuous lip avowed her heart had
+no prior prepossession, neither had
+her guardian any dominion over her
+at the moment of her coming of age,
+but that the high estimation in which
+she held Dr. Markwell, from the character
+represented of him by her
+guardian, would never permit her to
+dispose of her hand without his approbation,
+as she beheld him with
+parental love and reverence.</p>
+
+<p>“Allow me time,” said she, with
+one of her angelic smiles, “to learn
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>the virtues of St. Alban, that I may
+assure myself my heart is no truant
+to his precepts, and by that means
+experience, in various shapes, will
+convince him if the <i>bauble</i> he seeks
+is <i>worthy</i> his acceptance.”</p>
+
+<p>I was now the happiest of human
+beings, and when I parted with Rosa,
+at the Rectory gate, I learned
+with rapture we were to meet again
+at Lady Lustre’s in the evening,
+where Rosa extorted a faithful promise
+I would not render myself particular,
+as the embarrassment would
+cause her much displeasure, for the
+observant eye of my uncle, on such
+occasion, would expose what she
+most wished to conceal, “for I know
+not why,” said she, “but whenever
+he looks at me my heart <i>trembles</i>,
+and my <i>burning</i> cheek seems to indicate
+some <i>unfathomable reason</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“And is it not equally strange,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>said I, “that the sight of you always
+creates <i>similar</i> sensations in him;
+but I can in some measure account
+for his perturbation, by your <i>similitude</i>
+to a lady to whom he once paid
+his addresses in the early part of
+life, and whom he loved with that
+degree of fervour, that he never suffered
+any other women to supplant
+her: thus, when he gazes on your
+polygraphic form, wonder no longer
+at his starting tear, his heart-felt
+sigh, for he loves you as his child.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good heavens,” said Rosa, “how
+singular; I almost wish you had’nt
+told me, I shall now feel doubly embarrassed—good
+old gentleman, how
+much I pity him; his sensibility must
+be exquisite, and I am the unfortunate
+cause of perpetually rousing its
+dormant tranquillity.”</p>
+
+<p>The village clock struck nine—we
+bade each other a hasty adieu—and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>in a few minutes I reached home,
+just as my uncle had descended to
+breakfast, who, like myself, had passed
+a sleepless night. Disdaining
+an iota of duplicity towards my uncle,
+I frankly told him where, and
+with whom, I had been; the topic of
+our conversation, the surprise of
+Rosa at the explanation of her resemblance;
+and, in short, all that
+had past, soliciting his advice how
+to proceed towards the attainment
+of my hopes, as I felt as much awe
+in the presence of Dr. Mark well, as
+Rosa did in that of my uncle; he,
+however assured me, I had nothing
+to fear, if the worthy Rector was the
+only impediment: “but I advise you
+to write to your father,” continued
+he, “explain the affair, dutifully implore
+his consent to your happiness,
+and tell him, if liberality has not power
+to draw <i>his</i> purse-strings, love and
+nature have sufficient influence with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>your <i>churlish old misanthropical</i> uncle,
+to induce him to reward virtue, and
+constitute happiness, with the contents
+of <i>his</i>, even to his last shilling;
+or, though he died a bankrupt, you
+now know my sentiments Victor,
+therefore express your own to your
+father in what terms you think proper,
+and if he disproves your choice,
+lay the blame at <i>my</i> door.”</p>
+
+<p>“My gratitude, Sir,” replied I—but
+my voice faultered, I felt the momentary
+sensation of strangulation
+seize my throat—I burst into tears
+like an infant—nor could I have finished
+the sentence for worlds, had
+even the loss of Rosa, at that moment,
+been the consequence of my silence.</p>
+
+<p>“Keep your gratitude, my boy,
+till it is more requisite—it’s always a
+current coin in every country, and
+when you forget to enrich yourself
+by its possession, you will be <i>poor</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>indeed; liberally disburse what you
+can spare, but reserve a portion for
+the hour of exigence; retire after
+breakfast to my study, and dispatch
+your letter to London.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not till you have perused its
+contents, Sir,” replied I.</p>
+
+<p>“That as you please,” answered
+he, “but here comes Mr. Prolix, on
+some tenantry business, I will give
+him audience while you retire.”</p>
+
+<p>Away I brushed, and never pen
+glided smoother on such a subject.
+My uncle highly approved its effusions,
+and the portentous letter was
+dispatched two hours after in the
+postman’s bag, much to my joy and
+anticipated hope.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_X">
+    CHAP. X.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>We had scarce sat half an hour
+talking over the pleasure we expected
+in our afternoon visit, when Dr.
+Tonic called to inform us his family
+had received an invitation from Lady
+Lustre, to meet Miss Fitzclarence,
+assuring us Mr. Earwig, and Mr.
+Munchausen were to be of the party.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” ejaculated my uncle,
+“I hope Mrs. Deposit won’t be
+there also.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, Lady Lustre and her
+don’t set their horses,” replied the
+Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“I should think not,” said my uncle;
+“sin and innocence, black and
+white, snow and sunshine, are not
+more opposite.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mrs. Deposit’s a devilish clever
+woman, though,” continued Dr. Tonic.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Devilish</i> enough, I’ll allow,” rejoined
+my uncle; “but if, like Sir Andrew
+Analize, you search your dictionary
+for the explanation of the
+word <i>clever</i>, you’ll trace no analogy
+to Mrs. Deposit’s perfections; but,
+if you look to the word <i>craft</i>, there
+you have it in full force.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! oh!” said the Doctor,
+“she must not come here for a character,
+I find.”</p>
+
+<p>“O, yes, she may,” answered my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>uncle, “I’d give her a <i>just</i> one at any
+time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” continued the Doctor,
+“I can only say, your nephew ranks
+high in her estimation—she talks of
+nobody else, calls him the Apollo
+Belvidere in every company, and
+makes him the constant theme of her
+discourse, and is to my knowledge
+now filling up her cards of invitation
+for a grand route, on purpose to sport
+your paragonized nephew.”</p>
+
+<p>“She may spare herself that trouble,”
+replied my uncle, “my nephew
+won’t sport himself in the <i>Calypsian</i>
+grotto, you may depend upon it.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, not go?” fiercely answered
+the Doctor, “Oh, fie! fie! you
+can’t refuse—consider your nephew
+is on his preferment.”</p>
+
+<p>“No such thing,” said my uncle,
+“he’s already <i>preferred</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“What?” resumed the Doctor,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>sharply, “you don’t presume to tell
+us, Mr. Victor bids defiance to the
+fascinating charms of all our village
+belles, and has brought down a heart
+in chains?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I do,” cried my uncle, “I
+pronounce it a <i>captive</i>; tell the girls
+from me, though Victor St. Alban’s
+form is free, his heart is fettered, in
+indissoluble links, which even the
+all powerful charms of Miss Fitzclarence
+can <i>never break</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! ah! say you so—hem, hem!
+I have my doubts you’re playing the
+rogue with us,” said the Doctor, visibly
+chagrined; “at that rate <i>my</i>
+daughters have no hopes, and I promise
+he’s no small favourite of Elizetta’s:
+I’m afraid we shall have a
+sad female contest when this comes
+to be known; you’ll have much to
+answer for, squire, by introducing
+such a dangerous object.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Like enough,” cried my uncle,
+“if girls will build castles in the air,
+and grasp at shadows, they must
+thank themselves for their disappointment.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, but at all events, you will
+certainly go to Deposit’s gala?” said
+the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“I <i>pledge</i> you my word I will not,”
+resumed my uncle, “I’ll <i>pawn</i> my
+honour, unredeemable, if you catch
+me there; and as those are very
+comprehensive expressions to the
+lady in question, you may make the
+town larum of your tongue, if you
+like it, and disburse the news wholesale,
+retail, or for exportation.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hah! hah! hah!” cried the
+Doctor, “I can win a high bet at the
+Three Pigeons to-night, if I choose
+to take in the knowing ones: what
+dy’e think, now, was the odds at the
+Dolphin on Saturday night, that your
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>nephew was in love with Miss Fitzclarence?
+egad, Sir, I was laid twenty
+guineas to five—but dam’me I had
+my doubts, I little thought how the
+game stood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, aye! you’re <i>gammoned</i>,
+sure enough, Doctor—e’ent he, Victor?—have
+I not spoke the truth?”</p>
+
+<p>“You certainly have, Sir,” replied
+I.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’m dumb: I have not a
+word to offer; but I suppose I may
+<i>advance</i> what I’ve heard, from such
+undoubted authority?” said the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“O yes, you may <i>advance</i> it on
+<i>full speed</i> round the village, we shan’t
+<i>retreat</i>, depend upon it,” replied my
+uncle; “you may administer it as
+you please to the men, and make it
+into <i>boluses</i> for the <i>ladies</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Uncle,” said I, laughing, “why,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>at that rate, you’ll physic the whole
+parish.”</p>
+
+<p>“So much the better for the Doctor,
+he knows how to dose’em: it’s
+an ill wind that blows nobody good,
+and I’ll bet a hundred, that in consequence
+of this unexpected gust,
+Mrs. Deposit’s weathercock principles
+will shift completely opposite,
+and the Apollo of Belvidere be
+transformed, in a twinkling, to a
+dæmon of abhorrence.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never talk of the devil with a
+<i>doctor</i> at your elbow,” exclaimed
+Tonic, rising from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re right, Tonic! you’re
+right!” said my uncle, “I forgot
+myself at the moment; I did not intend
+it as a lancet touch, I assure
+you, so if it made an incision, it must
+have been on your conscience.”</p>
+
+<p>The Doctor forced a hah, hah!
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>and, wishing us good morning, bundled
+off with his budget of news.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, where’s your flying colours,
+Victor?” asked my uncle,
+“now, what’s the price of <i>gudgeons</i>?
+who says an old sportsman can’t net
+game?”</p>
+
+<p>“And not only <i>net</i>, but dexterously
+<i>make game</i> that nets itself,” replied
+I.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said my uncle, “I’m mistaken
+if my opthalmic invention has
+not blinded the whole parish, and
+annihilated all suspicion from your
+attentions to Rosa, which was the
+baneful village hydra I wanted to
+crush, and I think my plan will now
+repel all the arrows of sarcasm that
+were flying against you: so that
+you’ll neither be plagued by the women,
+nor bantered by the men.”</p>
+
+<p>I confessed myself highly indebted
+to his ingenuity, and the remainder
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>of the day passed on without any
+peculiar occurrence, till the appointed
+hour of Lady Lustre’s engagement
+called our most willing attendance,
+save the mortifying idea of
+meeting the Tonic family.</p>
+
+<p>“Be cautious, Victor,” said my
+uncle, as we entered the park gate,
+“be cautious and reserved—remember
+’tis the request of Rosa—yonder,
+I descry, the Tonic’s watching our
+approach from the window.”</p>
+
+<p>My heart bounded as we entered
+the drawing room—but the Rector’s
+family were not arrived; Munchausen
+was playing off his artillery with
+Misses Tonic’s and Lady Lustre,
+who had never been in his company
+but once, and was not aware of his
+rhodomontade: thought him a pleasant,
+entertaining, well-read man,
+and in consequence of her encouraging
+politeness, subjoined to his own
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>brazen effrontery, he was now paying
+his adulative respects, <i>self-invited</i>
+by an accidental call of convalescent
+enquiry; king of the company,
+and carbonading the poor doctor into
+a stew, one moment while he
+wound him round his little finger the
+next, in the most ludicrous style;
+and Mr. Earwig was buzzing in Lady
+Lustre’s ear an account of the
+successful progress of a certain charity,
+to which most respectable institution
+he had the honour to belong,
+and on which establishment he was
+setting down her ladyship’s name as
+a new member of that laudable society—“charity
+covereth a multitude
+of sins,” exclaimed he, putting his
+tablet and pencil into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“The mantle of charity ought to
+be elastic, in my opinion,” said Munchausen,
+“for if it was as large as
+the flag of Victory, that reached
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>from the Old Bailey to St. Paul’s, as
+the covering of Lord Nelson’s virtues,
+it would not be half big enough
+to cover <i>some folk’s sins</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Probably you mean your own,”
+said the pedantic man of charity,
+“shall I lend you my Dutch wrapper,
+as an additional covering? he!
+he! he!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, thank you! thank you! you
+want it yourself,” replied Munchausen;
+“beside, to tell you the truth,
+I don’t like the <i>lining</i>, it’s too light
+and <i>flimsey</i>, the outside is a <i>specious
+sample</i>, but the <i>inside part</i> won’t answer
+my purposes—<i>seem warm</i>, and
+<i>be warm</i>, I don’t admire gauze blankets—it’s
+also got a <i>double facing</i>,
+and that I dislike.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is the very reason why I
+offered it,” answered Mr. Earwig, “I
+thought it would suit you exactly.”</p>
+
+<p>At this moment of controversy,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>Rosa and Mrs. Markwell, on the
+arm of the Rector, approached
+through the elm vista.</p>
+
+<p>Munchausen, rushing to the window,
+on the intelligence, and applying
+his glass to his quizzical eye, exclaimed,
+“there comes beauty, and
+divinity—ye Gods preserve me from
+corruption! what a charming girl.”</p>
+
+<p>“What a speech from a married
+man,” observed the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“Poh,” replied Munchausen, “it
+was a public invocation to the gods:
+if any married man makes <i>no worse
+speech</i> in <i>private</i>, than I have done
+publicly, he need not ask <i>you</i> to blush
+for him, Doctor.”</p>
+
+<p>By this time Rosa entered the
+room, and the exercise of walking
+had suffused such a roseate blush on
+her angelic countenance, I never saw
+her look so enchanting.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Lustre received her with her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>usual engaging urbanity, and placed
+her by her side on the same sopha.
+Oh, how I contemplated her lovely
+form, reclining its elegant symmetry
+full on my opposite gaze, one blooming
+rose adorned (if possible) her
+beauteous bosom, whilst another was
+pinned into a chip hat that shaded
+one of the finest faces nature ever
+moulded; her robe was the vesture of
+simplicity, formed of plain white
+sarsnet.</p>
+
+<p>“Dam’me,” exclaimed Munchausen,
+in a whisper to me, “I can’t sit
+it, by G—d—I never saw such a
+d—d fine girl in my life—what a dog-day
+picture of contemplation—are
+you, for God’s sake, transfixed in silent
+adoration? or are you an inhabitant
+of Mont-Blanc, whom nothing
+but a salamander could melt
+into feeling? Zounds, man, the famous
+Mirza Abdallah has not such
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>a woman in his Haram; look how
+the old Doctor <i>screws</i> his <i>funny</i> eye
+at her: do also observe the swelling
+envy of the daughters, Tonics, <i>versus</i>
+Hygiæ—hey, my good fellow, did you
+ever see such an angel?—I’m sure I,
+who am in the constant habits in
+London of seeing and gallanting
+thousands at your <i>ram-cram</i> city
+balls, never! no, never! saw her
+equal!”</p>
+
+<p>“She is extremely handsome,” replied
+I, non-chalantely, “and I dare
+say you will presently be as much
+charmed with her conversation as
+her person.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! that I was five and twenty,”
+exclaimed Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, then,” replied Mr. Earwig
+(who had stuck himself by the side
+of Rosa, peering close in her face,
+and offering her his <i>mocaba tabatiere</i>)
+“you would be just half your age.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Is there any occasion to remind
+a man of his most formidable enemy?
+the personal innovation of that hoary
+monarch, <i>Mister Time</i>, are quite
+mortifying enough, without talking
+of <i>winter</i> while the tree is in <i>bloom</i>,”
+said Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, Earwig,” cried the witty
+Doctor, “Munchausen’s a pretty
+<i>full grown blossom</i>, methinks; I suppose
+he’s German cousin to the <i>evergreen</i>
+family—hah! hah! hah!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no, he is the <i>genuine hereditary</i>
+great-great-great grandson to the
+celebrated Baron Munchausen—an
+absolute descendant, in every sense
+of the word, his matchless polygraph
+in thought, <i>word</i>, and deed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pray, Sir, who might furnish you
+with my pedigree?” asked Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Yourself, Sir—you explore it to
+every body.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p>
+
+<p>Lady Lustre smiled, and so did
+Rosa, but Munchausen remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>“I had a visit from Mr. Faddle
+this morning,” observed her ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>“What,” interrupted the Doctor,
+“did he bring your ladyship a receipt
+to make a plumb-pudding?—hem!
+hem! hem!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed, he did not,” replied
+Lady Lustre, “he called only with a
+polite enquiry after my health—I invited
+him to join our party, and meet
+Miss Fitzclarence, but he’s so wonderfully
+bashful, he declined.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t wonder he’s a <i>coward</i>,
+where there’s such an object of <i>danger</i>,”
+said Munchausen; “what
+think you, Mr. Victor?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh,” rejoined the Doctor, “I
+won’t allow Mr. Victor any judgment
+in the business; Mr. Faddle
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>might feel himself in eminent danger;
+Munchausen has a heart to <i>lose</i>,
+but Mr. Victor has ne’er a one to <i>lose</i>
+or <i>find</i> in this village—he is no longer
+the ladies’ Apollo Belvidere, but their
+invulnerable Achilles; some London
+<i>elegante</i> has purloined the treasure,
+it seems, and sent us the casket.”</p>
+
+<p>At this speech, Rosa, whose eyes
+had been fixed on Dr. Tonic, reverted
+them on me, with such a glance of
+enquiry, as I would have given worlds
+to explain, as the Doctor thus continued
+his ill-timed aggravating discourse.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, Mr. Victor, we shall be
+aware how you play the rogue
+amongst us—shield your hearts, ladies—beware
+of the archer—I’m not
+in joke—Nunkey will vouch for the
+truth—won’t you Mr. Tweazy?”</p>
+
+<p>“I never suffer any body to catechise
+me but the <i>parson</i>,” replied my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>uncle, “if Dr. Markwell asks me
+that question to-morrow morning, I
+shall reveal the <i>truth</i>: but as private
+concerns should be privately discussed,
+we’ll drop the subject, as I’m
+no pupil of buffoonery, and I presume
+my nephew does not mean to
+obtain a wife by <i>public</i> election—but
+in case it should be necessary,
+you’ll give him your vote, and canvass
+for him, into the bargain, won’t
+you, Doctor?”</p>
+
+<p>“It depends upon the object in
+view,” replied Tonic (leering at Rosa,
+whose cheek had actually lost its
+roseate tint, and appeared much embarrassed)
+“if Miss Fitzclarence was
+the point of contention, I’d hold up
+both hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Miss Fitzclarence’s charms
+will canvass for her, without your
+assistance,” replied Mr. Earwig;
+“when she stands candidate, it will
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>be a hollow election, without bribery
+or corruption, depend upon it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, don’t turn match-maker,
+Doctor Tonic, it’s a very unthankful
+office,” said Lady Lustre; “I dare
+say,” continued she, “if Mr. St. Alban
+has lost his heart, those who
+possess it will guard it with great
+care and fidelity.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of that your ladyship, I am well
+convinced,” replied I, fixing my stedfast
+eye on that of Rosa, which at the
+instant meeting, spoke eloquent for
+the beauteous blush remantled on her
+cheek.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come, gentleman, a truce
+to what don’t concern the moment;
+general love is as nauseating as an
+emetic, while mutual love belongs only
+to the disquisition of two, and is a
+palatable potion of <i>syrup of roses</i>
+mixed with <i>extract of thorns</i>,” said
+Lady Lustre.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I wish to my soul, parson Faddle
+was here to pop down that receipt,”
+cried Munchausen, “I’ll invent
+a few <i>nong-tong-paw</i> dishes the next
+time I see him; I’ll furnish him with
+a natty collection, I warrant me, if
+he loves receipts: pray, what sort of
+a sermon does he dish up as he’s so
+clever at cooking?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, a very digestable one,” replied
+Dr. Markwell, “but, my dear
+Sir, no reflections on the cloth, I
+can’t allow that, we must call another
+topic.”</p>
+
+<p>“We have discussed the two most
+divine upon earth, viz. Love and Religion,”
+answered Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose we drop both, and call
+another,” said Lady Lustre, “satirical
+subjects are always dangerous.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_XI">
+    CHAP. XI.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A walk round the grounds was
+now proposed, and most readily assented
+to by me, who longed to speak
+to Rosa; but having no hopes of accomplishing
+it, evasive of the argus
+eyes of the Misses Tonics, I remained
+in the rear of the pedestrian group,
+and hastily scribbling the following
+lines with my pencil, I determined
+giving them to her as the moment of
+opportunity served: the billet run
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>thus:—“Doubt all you hear from
+Tonic relative to St. Alban’s <i>engaged</i>
+heart—’tis only Rosa’s, imperviously
+veiled to mislead the babbler, by the
+ingenuity of my uncle; meet me at
+the Rectory gate, to-morrow morning,
+at seven, where I will explain
+all.” I now mixed with the group,
+and crossing one of the Chinese
+bridges, over which a willow hung
+in rich profusion, and occasioned us
+to pass singly, I slipped it into her
+hand, and she as dexterously consigned
+it to her pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Willing to unfold the secret to her
+inspection, I turned the conversation
+on epigrams, charades, enigmas, &amp;c.
+observing I was certain Miss Fitzclarence
+could favour the company
+with some, either of her own production
+or selection. This roused the
+mettle of Miss Tonic, who drew out
+her pocket-book, and read several.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p>
+
+<p>I touched the elbow of Rosa, requesting
+her to search her’s.</p>
+
+<p>“As a proof I have no such thing,”
+replied she, “here’s my repository,
+you’re welcome to convince yourself,
+it retains no secrets.”</p>
+
+<p>“But some scrap of paper, in your
+pocket, may contain a thing of the
+kind?” and I looked so earnestly in
+her face, that she instantly comprehended
+me, and taking the arm of
+Miss Tonic, I lead her away for a
+moment, to facilitate the inspection
+of Rosa, whose eye glanced over the
+contents of the billet in a moment,
+and she joined us instantly, enquiring
+if I had solved the enigma.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you?” said I, “as you
+stood musing under that tulip
+tree?”</p>
+
+<p>“O, yes,” replied she smiling, “I
+think I <i>have</i>—but if Miss Tonic will
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>favour we with another sight of it, I
+shall be more competent.”</p>
+
+<p>I was now satisfied the telegraph
+had answered in unison, and all was
+right—Rosa gave the proper solution
+to Miss Tonic, who declared
+she was a witch.</p>
+
+<p>Munchausen had by this time arrived
+at the famous tulip tree, (under
+which Rosa had perused my billet),
+on the curious shaped leaf of which,
+he was holding an elaborate argument,
+observing, that those leaves he
+saw in Italy were so <i>large</i>, that he
+always made use of them for <i>saddle-cloths</i>,
+being a cool and elegant ornament
+for his thorough-bred filly; he
+had also, in very hot weather, caused
+some of them to be sown together
+with <i>vine tendrils</i>, to form him a
+<i>counterpane</i>, which had a very novel
+effect.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Novel enough:—hem!—hem!”
+cried the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“It was an <i>invention</i> of <i>my own</i>,”
+resumed Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Nobody doubts it,” said Mr.
+Earwig, “you’re one of the unaccountables.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, hang the fool who has no invention,”
+replied Munchausen, “I
+would not give a farthing for a
+man who could not hoax a whole
+parish—aye, and make them treat
+him with a rump, and dozen, for his
+ingenuity afterwards, without finding
+it out.”</p>
+
+<p>“That must be no easy task,” observed
+Dr. Markwell.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing more easy, begging your
+reverence’s pardon, than to take in
+the <i>flats</i>,” answered Munchausen:
+“it’s nothing, when you’re used to it,
+it really becomes natural, and familiar.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span></p>
+
+<p>“To constant practitioners it
+may,” assumed Dr. Markwell, who
+began to suspect he had an adept at
+his elbow, towards whom it would
+be nesessary to keep a very reserved
+conduct, to prevent those glaring impositions
+on his understanding, which
+he perceived Munchausen was practising
+on the credulity of others.</p>
+
+<p>Munchausen next peeped into the
+music rotunda, a most spacious and
+elegant structure lately finished, and
+here he spied, Miss Fitzclarence, on
+bended knee, in the whimsical attitude
+of an imploring statue, to favour
+the company with a song, with which
+the dulcet warbler instantly complied,
+diffusing universal admiration,
+and throwing Munchausen into extatics;
+he swore by every heathen divinity,
+that the Mara, the Billington,
+the Catalani, were a trio of <i>ravens</i>,
+compared to her melody; that she
+lived upon nightingale’s eggs, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span>that Apollo only could have been her
+music-master.</p>
+
+<p>Rosa laughed at his panegyric,
+and we strolled on to the Gothic arch,
+which Munchausen pretending to
+measure with his cane, pronounced
+the one lately erected in his park to
+be five feet higher, supporting on its
+summit a colossal statue, in highly
+preserved bronze.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, not your own image <i>executed</i>
+in <i>brass</i>?” asked Mr. Earwig.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, why not, indeed,” said the
+Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“Because that would be no novelty—but
+if either of <i>you gentlemen</i>
+will sit to my statuary, for a <i>cast</i>,
+the composition may be brass, or
+bronze, which ever best suits <i>your
+complexions</i>, I care not which, for
+whether it’s Colossus, Dr. Tonic, or a
+Colossial Earwig—an <i>object’s</i> an <span class="allsmcap">OBJECT</span>.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p>
+
+<p>This speech, uttered with the most
+sanctified appearance of reality,
+caused a hearty laugh between Lady
+Lustre, Rosa, and Dr. Markwell,
+while Dr. Tonic, and Mr. Earwig,
+completely caught in their own net,
+walked silently on towards the cascade.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ha!” exclaimed the ever-ready
+Munchausen, “here we are
+at Tivoli, sure enough; now, I’ll tell
+you how I have arranged my Staffordshire
+grotto, exact in the Tivolian
+similitude, observe, because I
+have added a transparent painting
+of Macenæ’s villa, upon a curious construction,
+so as pleasingly to delude
+the senses of the spectator, and make
+him imagine himself actually at the
+extreme of that beautiful perspective
+ruin.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who the d—l is to imagine what
+they never saw?” cried the Doctor,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span>“I know nothing about <i>Miss Senna’s</i>
+villa, not I.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’ve no conceptive ideas
+beyond <i>senna tea</i>,” said Munchausen,
+laughing at the Doctor’s stupidity;
+“who the d—l is <i>Miss Senna</i>, as you
+call her, I never heard of her at Tivoli?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nor I, neither,” said Rosa, smiling,
+“but I have contemplated with
+rapture the picturesque scenery of
+the celebrated ruins and cascade—indeed
+I have a sketch I made on
+the spot, in my portfolio.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now are you satisfied, Doctor,”
+exclaimed Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Not perfectly,” replied old Tonic;
+“you learned people are too refined
+in your ideas, to be at all times
+comprehensible.”</p>
+
+<p>“But there <i>are</i> enlightened beings—there
+are souls of congenial
+sentiment—heaven forbid we should
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>all be the offspring of the Dunderhead
+family, though it’s an immense
+numerous one, I allow,” cried Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>“Your birth-day’s the <i>fourth</i> of
+November, I presume,” said Mr. Earwig.</p>
+
+<p>“Thereabouts, I believe,” replied
+Munchausen, “I know you and I
+both came into the world time enough
+for a Guildhall dinner, on the <i>ninth</i>—you
+for the <i>toast</i>, and I for the
+<i>crumbs</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>Having now strolled over the principal
+part of the grounds that excited
+admiration, we returned to the
+house, where tea awaited our arrival,
+which was succeeded by a merry
+game at loo, and a whist table, till
+the hour of ten, when a genteel and
+elegant little cold collation completed
+our evening’s hospitable entertainment,
+and treated me with a moonlight
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>walk home, by the side of Rosa,
+to whom, in a whisper, I related
+the substance of Dr. Tonic’s conversation,
+by repeating the excellent expedient
+my uncle had used, to promote
+his taciturnity, and quell suspicion.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_XII">
+    CHAP. XII.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It now wanted but three days to
+Mrs. Fungus’s fete champetre, to
+which the Markwell family had received
+individual cards of invitation;
+but as it was a species of amusement
+dissonant to the principles of
+Dr. Markwell, and not agreeable to
+his wife, it was agreed Rosa should
+return an excuse, to elude suspicion,
+and go <i>incog</i>, under the protection of
+my uncle and self; but what character
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>to assume was the puzzle, for
+either as ballad-singer, or minstrel,
+she would instantly be discovered;
+it was therefore agreed, after much
+discussion, she and my uncle should
+go as “Sterne and Maria,” precisely
+habited in costume, whilst I dressed
+in Alice’s old clothes, determined to
+enjoy a little sport as an old gypsey
+fortune-teller, my uncle having promised
+to furnish me with a private
+tablet of the dresses of each parties I
+most wished to torment, which by
+going half an hour previous to my
+entrance, and enclosing the list in a
+small purse, as a reward for my occult
+abilities, would have it amply in
+his power to accomplish; and further
+to carry on the joke, I proposed sending
+to London for <i>false noses</i>, to wear
+during supper.</p>
+
+<p>This was a scheme highly approved
+by my uncle; Rosa and Mrs. Markwell
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>undertook the superintendance
+of my habiliment, and her own, while
+the Rector furnished my uncle with
+a bushy white wig, cocked hat, and
+cane, which was all the character
+required, subjoined to a black suit.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening preceding the fete,
+while Alice and the house-keeper
+were patching and gypsyeizing a
+ragged gown and petticoat, to render
+me appropriate, in bounced Dr. Tonic,
+red hot with village news of the
+intended characters he had been able
+to collect, a piece of intelligence very
+acceptable to me.</p>
+
+<p>“So,” cried he, “the whole village
+is in a bustle; I understand there
+won’t be an unmasked face at the
+supper, except the hostess, and her
+daughter; it’s a d—d good plan; we
+shall have rare fun, my girls are half
+mad—Mrs. Tonic goes as a <i>blind
+woman</i>, and my son Bob’s wife is to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span>lead her as a beggar-girl—Elizetta a
+<i>ballad-singer</i>—Georgiana a <i>flower-girl</i>—Bob,
+as a noisy <i>watchman</i>, for
+it’s easy enough to cry the hour.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied my uncle, “he can’t
+have any great task in doing that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you know, squire,” rejoined
+the Doctor, “we country Puts
+don’t understand masquerading like
+you Londoners; we have therefore
+but little inclination to expose our
+deficiencies on the score of witticism:
+for my part, I have not fixed upon
+any character yet—how do you mean
+to go?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps as Dr. Slop,” answered
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Egad!” exclaimed Tonic, “that
+character will exactly suit me—I’ll go
+home and study it directly—it’s the
+very thing—but have you heard of
+Lady Lustre’s intention? she means
+to go as <i>Charity</i>, with Dame Margery’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>three little brats, on a plan of
+beneficence; she’s a wonderful strange
+woman; then, again, let me consider;
+I can tell you half the characters
+in the parish; Major Pea-Chick
+goes as a <i>sultan</i>; Mrs. Deposit, a
+<i>sultana</i>; Lady Flam, a <i>virgin of the
+sun</i>; Mrs. Macfriz, a <i>chair-woman</i>;
+Mr. Windfall, a <i>sweep</i>; Mr. Prolix,
+the <i>devil on two sticks</i>; his wife, a
+<i>quaker</i>; Mr. Deposit, an <i>old clothes
+man</i>; Mr. Faddle, a <i>tiddy-dol</i>, with
+hot plumb-pudding; widow Quiz, a
+<i>cabbage-woman</i>; Mr. Undermine, a
+mole-skin dress; and, his son Simon,
+a <i>Patagonian</i> goose; Mr. Consequence,
+a <i>common-councilman</i>; Mrs.
+Coniac, a <i>bar-maid</i>; Mr. Coniac,
+<i>Jerry Sneak</i>; Mrs. Downright, a
+<i>landlady</i>; Mr. Strut, two faces under
+one hat, and his coat turned
+wrongside outwards; Mr. Downright,
+an <i>old woman</i>; Mrs. Wau-Wau, a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span><i>house-maid</i>, with mop and pail; Miss
+Bleary, a <i>lady doll-snip</i>; Mrs. Henpeck,
+in male attire, as a <i>slave driver</i>
+with her husband in chains; Mrs.
+Dashwell, as <i>nobody</i>; Mr. Dashwell,
+as a <i>dust-man</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you correct in your information?”
+asked my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“O yes, perfectly,” answered the
+Doctor; “there are various other
+characters which I don’t immediately
+recollect—but of these I am positive:
+but for the soul of me I can’t
+find out Munchausen, though I hear
+he has sent to London for some particular
+habit; he’ll be the life of the
+cause—but how shall you go, hey,
+Mr. Victor? every body’s dying to
+know your character.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, tell them I go an <i>Achilles</i>
+in complete armour.”</p>
+
+<p>“But where did you get it from?”
+asked the credulous Doctor.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p>
+
+<p>“A friend has furnished me.”</p>
+
+<p>“The Markwells are not to be
+there, I understand,” resumed old
+Tonic; “every body thought Miss
+Fitzclarence would at least have represented
+Venus—by the bye, it’s a
+bit of a hoax upon us, for she was
+fully expected—it’s a devilish disappointment
+to Mrs. Fungus—I wonder
+what’s the reason—some say she
+did’nt choose to <i>hide</i> her pretty face,
+others assert she was not <i>competent</i>
+to support a character.”</p>
+
+<p>“And I’ll bet a wager both suggestions
+are erroneous,” cried my
+uncle, “particularly the latter.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are partial,” answered the
+Doctor; “we make no phenomenon
+of her in our family, as you do—you
+absolutely magnify the very atoms
+of merit into enormous objects of
+admiration.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you, by peering at them
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>through the diminishing optics of
+envy, imagine them lessened in proportion
+to your wishes; but, recollect,
+Doctor, it is not every body sees
+with the <i>black</i> eyes you do,” replied
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>“Poh!” cried Tonic, “I allow her
+to be a very fine girl, handsome, accomplished,
+rich, and so forth: but,
+like most people, possessed of those
+endowments, she knows it, for she
+carries her head high enough to my
+daughters; she’s not familiar enough
+to please them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Overfamiliarity is truly contemptuous,”
+said my uncle; “a modest,
+elegant, degree of reserve is so much
+more fascinating, that I don’t wonder
+a young lady brought up in the refined
+style Miss Fitzclarence has been
+educated, should not suit your
+daughters’ ideas; a common village
+education, and a continental one in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>the bosom of science, and the school
+of genius, must form pupils of as different
+a class as St. Giles’s and St.
+James’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t see that,” returned the
+Doctor, highly piqued—“good day,
+good day, Mr. Achilles, we shall look
+sharp for you to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, <i>look sharp</i>, and <i>be sharp</i>, is
+the order of masquerading, and Victor
+won’t be deficient, I’m sure,” said
+my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Away went the Doctor; and highly
+elate at the discovery I had made
+of the various characters, we augured
+much amusement from our intended
+quiz, not doubting we should
+hear a pretty budget of village skits,
+at the expense of Rosa and ourselves,
+which was, in fact, the sole motive of
+our attendance, as my uncle most
+heartily despised Mrs. Fungus’s principles,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>which he was now willing to
+put to the test, as the only opportunity
+of obtaining their genuine knowledge.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAP_XIII">
+    CHAP. XIII.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Now as it was totally impossible
+Rosa could dress at the Rectory without
+detection, the village not affording
+a supply of carriages to accommodate
+one quarter part, it was agreed
+Lady Lustre should be informed of
+the scheme, and fetch her privately in
+her carriage from the Rectory to our
+house, from whence she would be
+escorted by my uncle.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o’clock therefore on the
+following evening Rosa alighted from
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span>the carriage of Lady Lustre, the most
+perfect “Mouline’s Maria” possible;
+for Yorick might have mistaken the
+original and admitted the polygraph.
+Her luxuriant ringlets were confined
+by a green silk net, and braided with
+a wreath of olive, a flageolet was depended
+across her shoulder by a pale
+green ribbon, over a white jacket, and
+the symmetry of her elegant shape
+was displayed by another fastened
+round her waist, at the end of which,
+a little spaniel, she had procured of a
+cottager, was made prisoner, and completed
+the costume; my uncle, though
+not so tall or thin as Yorick, looked
+the respectable representative of that
+celebrated character, and Rosa was
+so completely at home in recital and
+circumstance, as actually to have
+placed Sterne’s handkerchief in her
+bosom, wrapped and tied in the vine
+leaves, “But with which I shall not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>part till I find the owner you may depend,”
+said she smiling, “for not
+knowing how I may be attacked I
+was determined to be armed at all
+points.”</p>
+
+<p>I had not yet equipped myself and
+therefore left her tete-à-tete with my
+uncle, whilst the house-keeper slipped
+on my ragged black petticoat, old
+brown stuff gown, and a shabby red
+cloak, well patched, which, with a
+tattered blue pocket handkerchief,
+tied over the mutilated rim of a dirty
+straw hat, completed my metamorphose,
+at which Rosa actually
+started as I entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>“What an Apollo Belvidere,” said
+she laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“Rather what an <i>Achilles</i>,” replied
+I, placing myself before the
+looking glass, by which means I discovered
+I was incompleat, my arms
+being naked; I therefore begged
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span>Alice to supply me with the legs of
+a pair of black worsted stockings,
+which made me a pair of gypsey mitts,
+and after presenting a few bob curtseys,
+we jumped into a post chaise,
+we had previously ordered, and off we
+set.</p>
+
+<p>The distance was about a mile,
+which brought us to the romantic
+cottage of Mrs. Fungus (who seated
+in the drawing room beside her little
+daughter Miss Minerva, mama’s darling
+image), was receiving the company
+as they entered, who respectively
+paid their birth-day compliments
+to the fairy queen of the gala, who
+was enquiring of her Lady mother
+who every body was, and receiving
+the constant negative “I don’t
+know.”</p>
+
+<p>The room was decorated most fantastically
+with artificial flowers, coloured
+lamps, and a chalked floor,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>which the scientific skill of Mama
+and Miss Minerva had scrawled over
+in non-descript emblems of nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The lawn at the back of the cottage
+was appropriated for dancing, the music
+was placed in the shrubbery, and
+a platform erected for the “fantastic
+toe” was shaded by a famous Chinese
+awning, lined with rose-colour calico,
+and decorated with bunches of
+palm and laurel, intermixed with a
+numerous blaze of lamps, many of
+which encircled the trees in a stile of
+magic brilliance, such as Mrs. Fungus
+had read of in her favourite novels,
+and from which she had copied
+the present display.</p>
+
+<p>A numerous assemblage was crowding
+in, which compelled as many to
+throng out, for better accommodation
+on the lawn, but willing to remain as
+long as possible in the receiving room,
+to reconnoitre my game, we took our
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>seats near the throne of audience,
+where a general buz was in circulation
+to discover who Rosa could possibly
+be.</p>
+
+<p>We had not stood long (for to sit
+was impossible), when in sailed Mrs.
+Deposit as a sultana, loaded with all
+the jewels her apprentice could spare
+from the fangs of <i>redemption</i>, and one
+of the richest dresses the <i>repository</i>
+could furnish, that had not yet come
+under the <i>hammer</i>. Most unmercifully
+did she quiz, through an enormous
+glass set with brilliants, the
+form of our Mouline’s Maria.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t trace who she can be for
+the soul of me,” cried she, lolling on
+the arm of Major Pea-Chick, who,
+audaciously snatching the handkerchief
+from her bosom, told her if she
+would give it him he’d <i>throw</i> her a
+better in exchange.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p>
+
+<p>“That’s impossible,” said Rosa,
+angrily snatching it from his rude
+grasp, “for it’s consecrated with the
+tear of sensibility, and as it belongs to
+a wise man I shall never part with it
+to a fool.”</p>
+
+<p>“’Pon honour, that’s a dashy little
+mad speech,” resumed the Major;
+then turning on his heel “the girl
+don’t want wit, we’ll teaze her again
+bye and bye,” and off he strutted with
+his sultana.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Undermine, in his mole-skin
+dress, next approached to pay his
+respects, followed by his Patagonian
+goose, who, after making a reverential
+bend of his long neck, set up three
+loud <i>quacks</i>, much to the diversion of
+the company.</p>
+
+<p>“If that young goose has not <i>learnt</i>
+how to hiss yet, send him to me for
+a few lessons,” said a city alderman,
+who was regaling himself with a large
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span><i>cheesecake</i>, which he carried in his
+hand, a bite of which he offered a
+<i>flower</i> girl for old acquaintance-sake.</p>
+
+<p>The devil upon two sticks now attacked
+the virgin of the sun, declaring
+he remembered the time when <i>he</i> was
+her greatest favourite, which so perplexed
+her <i>purity</i> that she dashed out
+of the room without giving him an
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>Farmer Strut with his <i>two faces</i>
+was very busy looking about for his
+<i>old friends</i>, but nobody knew him
+from having <i>turned his coat</i>, he had
+therefore nothing to amuse and comfort
+him but a feast upon his <i>nails</i>,
+which he trimmed unmercifully.</p>
+
+<p>“Sweep! sweep! sweep!” bawled
+Mr. Windfall in the ear of the widow
+Quiz, who was wheeling a barrow of
+cabbages.</p>
+
+<p>“Lard, don’t make such a noise,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>we all know you are a sweeper,” exclaimed
+the cabbage woman.</p>
+
+<p>“And the best trade going,” replied
+he; “you ought to know that,
+you served three <i>apprenticeships</i> to it,
+though you haven’t <i>sacked</i> the <i>soot</i>
+out of the <i>last old family</i> chimney
+yet.”</p>
+
+<p>“Past twelve o’clock,” yelped Bob
+Tonic, tossing the cabbages over,
+“you’d better <i>shut shop</i> and <i>go home</i>
+mistress.”</p>
+
+<p>“What and leave such a noisy
+fellow as you heir to my cabbages?
+No! no! I’ll make you a present of
+one for your little family, but the
+<i>young caterpillars of my own</i> must
+divide the remainder.”</p>
+
+<p>“Any thing to be given away here?”
+asked old Tonic, in the character of
+a fisherman, with a net of gudgeons.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” answered Jerry Sneak,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>“a cabbage as hard hearted as yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose if it had been a <i>sop in
+the pan</i> you’d have seized it,” replied
+the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh I’ll make him a present of
+one as well as his son, for the trouble
+of distributing my remaining stock,”
+said the cabbage woman; during
+which speech Mr. Prolix at her elbow
+exclaimed, “Don’t forget a few leaves
+for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You need not tell me, lawyers
+can look as sharp for a cabbage as a
+tailor; you’ll take care of yourself
+no doubt, only mind the caterpillars
+don’t blight your share of the pickings,”
+resumed the widow, and away
+she trundled.</p>
+
+<p>“Any old cloaths! cloaths! cloaths!”
+cried Mr. Deposit, catching hold of
+Mr. Undermine’s mole-skin domino,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span>“any <i>common counshil</i> men’s <i>cowns</i>
+to <i>shell</i>?”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” replied Undermine, surlily,
+“don’t bother me, I never traffic with
+Jews, I like open dealing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, but you <i>tont teal open</i> wit
+you neighbours, you trick dem in de
+dark; <i>haf</i> you <i>cot</i> any quantity of
+mole’s skins in you <i>pack cround</i>, I’ll
+puy dem all, I vont some for a pair
+of <i>couty shoes</i> for an <i>owlt frint</i> vot can
+<i>pay</i> you vell.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sirrah, begone!” exclaimed Mr.
+Simon, who was waddling behind his
+<i>par</i> forgetting he was a goose.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my cot vat <i>you</i> talk; vel I
+vos never! no never, hear de like;
+how much you ax for your feathers?
+come, I make a <i>pargain</i> wit you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hiss him! hiss him!” exclaimed
+Alderman Cheesecake, en passant.</p>
+
+<p>“Vell! vell! I’ll go tell all my peoplish
+about de wonderful <i>coose</i> vat I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span>heard talk; I tink now you voud look
+very stilish wit a sage nosegay, and a
+necklace of onions hung round your
+<i>neak</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“You deserve a d—d good thrashing
+for making me the sport of the
+company,” replied the goose.</p>
+
+<p>Hah! hah! hah! laughed the
+jew, most immoderately, “<i>You</i> make
+de sport not me. Shall I treat you
+wit a slish of hot plum-pudding? Titly
+Tol, where are you, here’s de talking
+<i>coose</i> in a passion for her supper,”
+and off he slipped in search of the
+walking cupboard.</p>
+
+<p>A huge bear now rushed in, who
+throwing his paws round Mrs. Deposit’s
+neck, moosled her most violently,
+and caused her to utter a loud
+shriek for the assistance of the watchman
+to take the Bear into custody
+before the sitting Alderman, who jocosely
+replied he was not <i>sitting</i>, nor
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>was he in office. Bob Tonic took aim
+at the bear with his staff, and the
+shaggy animal, in revenge, served
+Bob’s wife the same trick; which in
+fact he practised on every female not
+excepting Rosa, whom it was remarked
+he sniffed at and surveyed with
+seeming sagacity, and saluted as politely
+as any bear could possibly do.</p>
+
+<p>He next seized hold of Mrs. Henpeck’s
+cat-o-ninetails and rearing himself
+on his hind legs gave her a sharp
+lash over the shoulders and threw it
+down; he then seized Lady Dol-snip,
+encircling her waist with one paw and
+escorting her with the other all round
+the room for a promenade, to the terror
+of some and diversion of others;
+for little Miss Minerva was so frightened
+that the bear should touch her,
+that her mama had much trouble to
+convince her it was not a real animal,
+and when he approached to pay his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span>quadrupedical respects Mrs. Fungus
+assured Mr. Bruin she should feel
+herself much obliged if he would lay
+aside or exchange his dress, as it
+much annoyed her company, and she
+was astonished any <i>gentleman</i> should
+assume so unprepossessing a character.</p>
+
+<p>This rebuff in some measure restricted
+the liberties of the bear, who
+paced off to the dancers, where he
+caused much confusion by chiming
+in between every couple and turning
+every body the wrong way, and in
+going hand across with the goose
+catched him fast by the beak and set
+the whole group in a roar of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>He next upset the devil-upon-two
+sticks; by resuming his quadrupedical
+march twitched off Mrs. Coniac’s
+shoe, by which he discovered
+a large hole in her stocking, which
+he took great pains to display to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span>company, by gripping her foot fast in
+his paw and growling fiercely over
+it to cause attention, much to the dismay
+of the lady; and poor Tiddy
+Tol’s plum pudding basket was overturned
+with as little ceremony, a
+slice from which he snatched away
+and walked off with it in his mouth
+towards charity and her three children,
+to whom he dropped the piece
+of pudding as his mite, much to her
+ladyship’s amusement, for in this well
+assumed character Lady Lustre collected
+near ten pounds for dame Margery’s
+twins.</p>
+
+<p>Having now practised innumerable
+antics, and tormented the people almost
+beyond bearing, Bruin was retiring
+from the busy scene to re-dress
+when he accidentally popped upon
+Major Pea-Chick, the sultan, to whom
+giving a cornish brotherly hug till the
+little man cried for mercy, he hoisted
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>him dexterously upon his back
+and returned with him mounted á la
+Mamoset, into the drawing room,
+where at the feet of the terrified Miss
+Minerva he shook off his burthen,
+by tipping the Major heels over head;
+he vowed to be revenged on the <i>audacious
+brute</i>, be who he would;
+but his ursine majesty could make
+no reply, he growled ludicrously and
+made a precipitate retreat out of the
+house into a little back cottage, where
+he had previously conveyed a change
+of dress to avoid detection, and returned
+to the company e’er he was
+well missed, as Captain Allclack,
+equipped in costume, with an immense
+snuff box, the macaba of which
+he had plentifully impregnated with
+Cayenne, this in the quickest succession
+he presented to every body, enlarging
+with rapid volubility on its
+excellent properties, protesting “It
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>would rouse their energies, clear their
+understanding,” &amp;c. &amp;c. the unwary
+of this scheme to the tune of nine out
+of ten, became instant victims of credulity,
+and the whole room was in
+one incessant sneeze, some stamping
+with the agony of their noses, others
+compelled to unmask to wipe the involuntary
+tears that flowed from their
+eyes and half blinded them, during
+which tumult Captain Allclack had
+found his way into the garden and
+well plied the musicians, who dropping
+their instruments sneezed a complete
+concerto, while the captain still
+dexterously employed in the circulation
+of his “Tabac Mystique” was
+execrating them as a set of <i>hoaxing
+rascals</i>, who did not choose to play; by
+which confusion and stoppage of the
+music, the dance was totally interrupted
+for near half an hour.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span></p>
+
+<p>This stratagem having had the desired
+effect (particularly on Major
+Pea-Chick, who was nearly strangled)
+Captain Allclack suddenly disappeared
+and retiring again to his rustic
+toilet, equipped himself in a long
+flannel dressing gown and cap, and
+supporting the character of a pantaloon
+most ably, he kicked, boxed,
+hissed, danced, and hoaxed every
+body the remainder of the evening.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">END OF VOL. II.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph4">Plummer and Brewis, Printers, Love Lane,
+Little Eastcheap.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="tnote">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_note">
+    Transcriber’s note
+  </h2>
+
+
+
+<p>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.</p>
+
+</div>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77028 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
diff --git a/77028-h/images/cover.jpg b/77028-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e0a025
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor1.jpg b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0dadc56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor1.jpg
diff --git a/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor2.jpg b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor2.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a727e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor2.jpg
diff --git a/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor4.jpg b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor4.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12ec02c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor4.jpg
diff --git a/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor5.jpg b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor5.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24cec62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77028-h/images/i_titltepage_decor5.jpg
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5dba15
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this book outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f66d4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for book #77028
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77028)