"Remember that, now; for you know I read the two last volumes first, to oblige Miss Cripps, who was waiting for them." "Why, Mem, you know if subscribers didn't accommodate each other in that way we shouldn't get on at all. Talking of Miss Cripps, sorry to say that the report so general, about an hour ago, of her having recovered her bag, is not true." "Poor Cripps! I'm very sorry for it, not that I believe a word about the two sovereigns. Pray, Yawkins, how does the raffle for the tea-tray and patent snuffers get on ?" "Why, Mem, you know the list hasn't been up above a fortnight, and forty chances at a shilling a-piece take a long while to fill up. However, we are getting on: eighteen down already, and I have every reason to expect that Mrs. Hobbs Hobbs and Mrs. Fitz-bobbin-visiters from London-will each take two chances. They are considering about it." "Well, Yawkins, it is but fair to tell you that, on Saturday, I tea'd with Mrs. Hobbleday in the Crescent; there was a large party; the whole evening we talked about little else but your raffle; and the general opinion was that you would have done much better with eighty at sixpence." "How, Mem!" exclaimed Yawkins, with an air of offended dignity; "much obliged to Mrs. Hobbleday and her party: a sixpenny raffle might do very well at such a place as Sniggerstone's, or Snargate's, but I should like to know what the company at Yawkins's would say to such a thing. No, Mem;"-(here he turned his eyes up to the ceiling and placed his hand upon his heart)-"No, Mem; rather than so compromise the respectability of my establishment, I would almost sooner return the eighteen shillings to the subscribers, and sell the teatray and snuffers at prime cost." The lady, after feeding the fat poodle with a couple of biscuits from the bag, withdrew-having first sent her unhappy servant forward with her commands that he would place her chair and foot-stool ready for her at the sunny corner of the Crescent. "That's the Miss Tidmarsh you must have heard so much about in London, Sir," said Yawkins. "I never heard the name till now," replied I. nature of the calamity which has befallen her?" "But what is the "Why, that is it, Sir. Dear me! it's very extraordinary you should not have heard of it in London! Why, Sir, it set all Little-Pedlington in a ferment for a month. Except about that atrocious affair of stealing the pump-ladle-which of course you must have heard of-I never knew the town in a state of such tremendous excitement. She had a most beautiful French poodle, Sir-twice as fat as the one she has got with her now-such a quantity of hair, too, and as soft as silk! She was in this very shop with it, Sir, only the day before it happened. Well, Sir, one morning she missed the dog: about two hours afterwards the poor thing returned, but in what a state! Conceive her horrorconceive the agonizing shock to her feelings! Some monster, some fiend in human form, had cut all its hair off-got hold of Miss Tidmarsh's poodle and shaved it-shaved it, Sir, as smooth as the palm of your hand!" "Horrible, indeed!" I exclaimed; "and that an event of such stirring interest' in Little-Pedlington should remain unknown to us!" Adding, "But strange as it may seem to you, Mr. Yawkins, it is my fixed belief that were a troop of monsters, a legion of fiends in human shape, to shave all the dogs of every description that infest one-half of London, the other half would probably never know anything of the occurrence." "Then blessed be Little-Pedlington!" replied Yawkins, "where everybody is acquainted with everybody else's affairs, at least as well as with his own.' "" Yet half an hour to spare before dinner. Time enough, perhaps, to see Daubson's grand picture-the Grenadier. Inquired whereabouts was Yawkins's skittle-ground. Informed that it was an immense way off-quite at the farther end of the town. Hopeless for to-day, thought I; but asked what the distance might be. Told, nearly four minutes' walk. Went; stood before the "all-but-breathing Grenadier," as it is designated by Jubb. Hard to describe its first effect upon me. As I approached it, involuntarily took off my hat. Thermometer 84° in the shade. Daubson certainly an original genius; unlike Reynolds, Lawrence, Phillips, or Pickersgill. Neither did his work put me much in mind of Titian or Vandyke-not in the least of Rembrandt. No servile imitator-in fact, no imitator at all. Perhaps a military critic might object that the fixed bayonet is rather longer than the musket itself; be this as it may, owing to that contrivance it appears a most formidable weapon. In order that the whole of the arms and accoutrements may be seen by the spectator, the painter, with considerable address, has represented the cartridge-box and the scabbard of the bayonet in front. Scabbard about one-third the length of the bayonet-judicious-needless to exaggerate in this-nothing formidable in the appearance of a long scabbard, whatever may be thought of a long bayonet. Legs considerably thicker than the thighs--grand idea of stability characteristic of a "grenadier standing sentry.' Resolved to sit to Daubson, Five o'clock. Returned to "as nice a little dinner as I could wish to sit down to." Such was I promised by mine host. Thermometer inveterately holding to 84°. Huge hot round of beef, which filled the room with steam-hot suet dumplings, and hard-hot carrots, each as big as the grenadier's leg-scalding hot potatoes in their skins. Nice little dinner indeed-for the season! Five minutes past five. Finished dinner and ordered some wine. Wine fiery as brandy, and warm: complained of it. Scorewell assured me it was the very same wine he was in the habit of serving to the family with the fly, and that they never complained of it. Indeed, neither the St. Knitalls, nor the Fitz-bobbins, nor Mr. Twistwireville, nor even Mr. De Stewpan (who was remarkably particular about his wine)-in short, this was the first time his (Scorewell's) wine had ever been complained of by mortal man. Such authorities it would have been downright insolence to oppose. Said no more, but simply ordered a little weak brandy and water. Scorewell undertook to try again." Whilst he was away, fancied I heard a pump-handle at work. Returned; wine by no means so strong, and much cooler. The first decanter chipt at the lip; so was this-odd coincidence. Inquired how the decanter came to be so wet outside? Scorewell replied, that he had just given it a minute in ice. That's a reason, thought I. 66 Whilst I was sipping my wine, and reading Jubb's "Pedlingtonia" -(found Rummins's "Antiquities" too learned, too profound, for after dinner reading), Mr. Hobbleday came in. Merely looked in to see the time by the coffee-room clock. Recollecting his civilities to me in the morning, invited him to wine. Ordered a fresh bottle. "Know the sort of wine Mr. Hobbleday likes," said Scorewell, as he quitted the room. "Good creature that Scorewell," said Hobbleday," and one of the best inns in Little-Pedlington." "Then I am fortunate," said I," in having accidentally been brought to it. The other inn-keepers are but moderately honest at least, so I am told by Scorewell; and for a stranger as I am to have fallen upon the only one who—” "What I say, understand me, I say in confidence. Good creaturecapital inn; but call your bill every morning-that is, if you should find it possible to stay at it for more than a day or two. Call it, I say, every morning—you understand. In the hurry of business people sometimes forget what you have not had, and down it goes into the bill. After a week or so, you can't tax your memory as to whether you had such or such a thing, or not; and, rather than dispute about it, why you ahem! Now, Scorewell, what have you done for us, eh? Is that some of Squire Dribble's wine?" Scorewell assured us that it was. Squire Dribble? Isn't that the gentleman who has a place in this part of the country-a collection of pictures-statues?" inquired I. "The same," replied Hobbleday; "about a mile beyond Squashmire Gate. My most intimate friend. I'll give you a letter of introduction to him, which you'll find very useful. Fine place, fine place! Squire himself as great a curiosity as anything he has to show." Eight o'clock. "No more wine," said Hobbleday, "I must go. We have a meeting of our Universal-Knowledge Society. Never miss it. Although I have been a member upwards of two years, I am still in want of an immense deal of knowledge-you'd be astonished to hear how many things I am ignorant of! Some of our learned members say that I bore them to death with questions. Can't help that, you know. No use to subscribe one's money to a Knowledge-Society, unless one is allowed to profit by it." Expressed a desire to attend the meeting. 66 Take you with the greatest pleasure-not to-night-'tis not my turn -any other night you choose." Reminded him of his promise to introduce me to Rummins, Jubb, and the rest of the great Little-Pedlingtonians. "To-morrow I'll introduce you to them all. Let me see-come and take a bachelor's chop with me at five: I'll invite them to meet youHoppy and Daubson, too-just we six-flow of reason, feast of soul,' eh? If they are all unengaged and can all come-five to-morrow, eh? Let you know by twelve. Good evening. Capital wine, that." (To Scorewell, who just then entered the room)- I say, Scorewell, if you should hear anything positive about Miss Cripps's bag, send word to me at the U. N. S. Good evening." "What does he mean by the U.N.S., Mr. Scorewell," inquired I. "Universal Knowledge Society, Sir. Pleasant gentleman, Mr. Hobbleday, Sir." "And exceedingly civil to me," said I. Nice gen "Invited you to dine with him to-morrow, Sir. Ahem! tleman, Sir, but the greatest humbug in Little-Pedlington. He never gave a dinner to anybody in his life-a tea and turn-out now and then and never once offered an invitation without an if tacked to it. He knows that to-morrow is Mr. Hoppy's teaching day, so he can't come : he knows that Mr. Jubb is engaged to dine with Mr. Rummins (for he heard Mr. R. order a bottle of Cape Madeira to-day for the purpose), so they can't come." This was "the most unkindest cut of all." That there should be to be found in Little-Pedlington roguish innkeepers, disreputable librarians, poisoning pastry-cooks, and pick-purses; the envious, the mali. cious, and the scandal-monger; wicked husbands and naughty wives; nay, even purloiners of pump-ladles, and shavers of pet poodles-little as I expected to hear of all or any of these, I might, in the course of time, have reconciled myself to the circumstance. Knowing them, I might avoid them. But that there should exist in this pre-eminently virtuous town one of that contemptible race so emphatically named by mine host a race (as I had hitherto imagined) peculiar to London—! “As soon should I have expected," I exclaimed, " to hear, that you have amongst you one of those uttermost miscreants who are at once the scorn of the honourable profession which they disgrace, and the despised of the society they infest-a pettifogging attorney Unhappily for us, Sir," said Scorewell, we have one. I'll tell you some of the rogue's tricks. His name isdon, Sir; I hear the family-with-the-fly bell." To-morrow Regretted that I didn't hear his name. Resolved to inform myself of it to-morrow; and (together with the account of his tricks, with which Scorewell is to favour me) to hitch it into my journal, that it may stand Beware" to all future visiters to Little-Pedlington. as a *** Ten o'clock.-Finished reading "Pedlingtonia." Very Pope-ish, and the work of a Protestant minister! Fatigued by the excitement of the day, and a busy morrow in store for me. Rang for chambermaid. Mem. Inquire of Hoppy (when I shall have the honour and happiness of seeing him) who and what those Fitzes and Villes really are. From a momentary glimpse I had of Hobbs Hobbs, Esq., fancied there was something of the valet cut even about him. Chambermaid to "marshal me the way." Met Scorewell in the passage. Nothing certain yet about Miss Cripps's bag. Had just returned from the office of the Pedlington Weekly Observer. Editor keeps the press open till the last possible moment, in order to give their readers to-morrow the latest intelligence concerning it. Happy Pedlingtonians! An affair of ten times this" stirring interest" would scarcely produce a perceptible effect upon us poor over-excited Londoners. Desired they would let me have the paper in the morning, to extract anything remarkably interesting. "Good night." Half-past twelve.-A loud knocking at my door. "Are you asleep, Sir?" "I was, and soundly too, till you disturbed me. do you want ?" "Please to get up, and open the door a-jar, Sir. Ugh! There-now-what's the matter?" Who is it, and what It's chambermaid." "Master thought you'd like to know, Sir: Miss Cripps has got her bag safe, with everything in it-except the money." (To be continued.) P*. Though gnarl'd the storm-toss'd boughs that braved Not always through his darkness raved The storm-winds of the soul. Oh, no! in hours of golden calm The wren its crest of fibred fire The lark, above, sweet tribute paid, Ev'n when his stormy voice was loud, Beneath the frown that shook the proud, Dead Oak, thou liv'st! Thy smitten hands, The thunder of thy brow, Speak, with strange tongues, in many lands, June 23rd, 1835. |