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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 *** |