supporter of Government, and I am--indeed several ladies of my
standing down in these parts have determined to stick to the Canine
Administration, which you oppose. Mr. Fulmer takes in the _Currier_,
and the _Currier_ supports them--besides, he knows the Duke of
Deafonshire, and so we cannot help being on their side.
You did not, perhaps, expect so soon to see Lord Doodley in place,
nor fancy Mr. Turney would be Master of the Mint, or else you would
not have been again Mr. Canine--for I know you like Lord Doodley,
and you always praise Mr. Turney.
Between you and me, I do not quite understand why they should have so
much Mint in the Cabinet as to want a man to look after it, when they
have no Sage there, nor do I see how our Statesmen can get into a
Cabinet to sit--to be sure, the French Minister sits in a bureau, and
one is quite as easy to get into as the other. I see by Mr. Canine's
speeches, that the King (God bless him!) sits in a closet, which is
much more comfortable, I think.
Fulmer tells me that Mr. Broom's brother is the Devil, and gets six
or seven hundred a year by it--I always understood he was related to
the family, but never knew how, till Mr. Canine's people got him a
place at Court, which I think very wrong, only I must not say so.
I was very near in a scrape on Monday. I went down to Common Garden
to buy some buckets for my Popery jars, out of which I empty the
Popery in summer, and put in fresh nosegays, being a great votery of
Floorar--when who should be there but Mr. Hunt, and Mr. Cobbett, and
Mr. Pitt, the last of which gentlemen I thought had been dead many
years; indeed I should not have believed it was him, still alive,
only I heard Mr. Hunt call for his Old Van, which I knew meant the
President of our Anti-Comfortable Society in Tattenham-court-road,
who is a Lord now, and was a friend of Mr. Pitt's before he retired
from public life into the Haddlefy.
Mr. Hunt told us a thing which I never knew before, which is, that
the pavement of Common-garden is made of blood and prespiration,
which is so curious that my two little girls and I are going down
Toosday to look at it--after hearing him say that, I got away, but
had my pocket picked of some nice young inions, which I had just
before bought.
Mr. Fulmer does not know I am riting to you, but I do rite because I
think it rite to do so, to warn you not to say that Mr. Canine has
gone away from what he was formerly--for I know as a fact that it
was _he_ which christened his present friends "all the talons," and
rote a pome in praise of them, which he would not have done had he
not thought eyely of them.
It is not true that he is going to make any new Pears, although
his anymes says so. Mr. Russell, of Branspan, I have known all my
life--he smokes more than his coles, and don't want to be a Lord at
all; and as for Mr. Bearing, he is a _transit land take_ man, and
cannot be a Lord here--at least so F. tells me. However, I think Sir
George Warrener will be a Barren something, let what will happen
elsewhere. I see, however, Mr. Canine has made both Plunkett and
Carlile Lords, and given all the woods and forests to the latter.
You see I begin to pick up the noose--_awnter noo_, as the French
say, have you seen our village clock in St. Giles's--it is lited up
by itself every heavening, at hate o'clock; and on account of its
bright colour, may be red at any hour of the nite: it is, indeed, a
striking object; if you should be able to get out of town, do drive
down this way and look at it.
Only think of these Mr. Wakefields being put into gaol for three
years for marrying a young woman--I suppose there is no chance of her
being confined in consequence of her going with them. Have you heard
Madame Toeso? is she any relation to Miss Foote? My papa is full, and
so'il hold no more, so adeu.
Yours truly,
DOROTHEA L. RAMSBOTTOM.
P.S.--Have you read Sir Ruffian Donkey's Pumpflet about Lord
Somersetshire?
XV.
MRS. RAMSBOTTOM ON SMOKING.
TO JOHN BULL.
August, 1827.
DEAR B.,--I wish you would please to say something about them nasty
men what smokes about. I took my daughter to Market last week in the
_Columbine_ packet, and there not only did the ship smoke, but almost
every man had either a pipe or a seagar in his mouth.
I made a little fox pos on board, for I was so sick of the smoking
that one of the men said I had better go and sit with the engineers,
for let it be ever so hot they were used to it and never smoked. Now
when we was living on Blackheath, poor Mr. Ram used to ask several
of the engineers to dine with us, which always come in a pretty
uniform of scarlet, with blue velvet facings, and which I knowed to
be a genteel corpse, because there were not no men in it, but all
officers. So I asked the gentlemen who talked of the engineers to
show me the way to them, thinking perhaps I might see some of my old
friends down there, but when I got into the place, which was like a
firnest, what should I see but two or three men without their coats,
with airy caps on their heads and dirty faces, a shovelling in coles
like anything--and when I come down they laughed at me and asked if
I wanted to be roasted. I soon found out they was different people
from what I thought, and a gentleman who helped me up out of the hole
were they was a grubbing, told me the difference was that the dirty
men were civil engineers, which I could by no means agree to--for I
thought them uncommon rude.
When I got up stairs again, I was sick of the smoking, and so I
went into the cabin, where there were more smokers--in short, dear
B., whether I travels by land or by water, still I am smoked to
death--it is a most horrid custom, and, perhaps, if you notice
it, some on 'em will leave it off. I will rite again when we are
settled.--Yours truly,
L. D. RAMSBOTTOM.
XVI.
MRS. RAMSBOTTOM'S CONUNDRUMS.
TO JOHN BULL.
Montague Place, Dec. 28, 1827.
DEAR B.,--I never like to fail writing to you at this season, but I
don't like puttin you to the expense of postage; and yet, when I hear
of any thing peakant, I wish to send it you.
You must know that me and all the gulls have taken to making
knundrums, as they call them, and what we can't make, we collex. We
got the idear from having purchased some of the hannual perodicals. I
boght the Omelet, and Lavinia boght the Bougie, and they set us upon
putting knundrums into our Albions.
It being Christmas, and it coming but once a year, I have sent you
some of ours, which perhaps you won't print, but may serve to make
you laugh.
What three letters spell Archipelago--(what that is I don't know; but
this is the answer)--E. G. and C.
Why is a man about to put his father in a sack like a traveller on
his way to a city in Asia?--Because he is going to _Bag Dad_.
Why is a child with a cold in its head like a winter's
night?--Because "it blows, it snows."--(nose, you know.)
Why is the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland like a man inquiring what
o'clock it is?--Because he is _as King_ for the time.
If a pair of spectacles could speak, what author would they
name?--Eusebius--(You see by us.)
Why is a flourishing landlord sure to have plenty of
relatives?--Because he must have _Ten-ants_.
What are the best shoes for wet weather?--_Pumps._
Why is a sermon on board ship like Sir Edward Codrington's red
ribband?--Because it is a _deck oration_.
Why is a very little devil sitting on the top of a cow-house like a
man who has squandered all his property?--Because he is _Imp over a
shed_.
What sea would one wish to be in on a rainy night?--_A dry attic._
Why is a libeller in Newgate like a traveller who has caught a
rheumatism at a bad inn?--Because he suffers for lying in damp sheets!
Why is a gentleman in a Calais packet on a stormy day, like a
gentleman sailing in part of the Mediterranean?--Because he is
amongst the _Cyclades_.
Why are glass coaches so plentiful in London?--Because they are
without number.
When is a door not a door?--When it is _a-jar_.
When is it more than a door?--When 'tis _to_!
Why is the root of the tongue like a dejected man?--Because it is
_down in the mouth_!
Why is a hired landau not a landau?--Because it is a _landau let_!
Why is a lean Monarch constantly worrying himself?--Because he is
always _a thin king_!
Why is a Tragedy a more natural performance in a theatre than a
Comedy?--Because the boxes are always in _Tiers_!
Why is Parliament-street like a compendium?--Because it goes to _a
bridge_!
If all the alphabet were invited to dinner, why could they not all
accept the invitation?--Because six of them come after T.
Why is a boy doing his first sums like a serpent erect?--Because he
is an _adder-up_!
And last, dear Mr. B. (which I will not tell you),
Why am I like a sheep's tail?
Yours always,
DOROTHEA R.
_Note._--Several of the above, with all respect to our dear friend
Dorothea, are extracted from that excellent paper the _Berkshire
Chronicle_, and others from a small book called "D'ye give it up?"
sold at a Charitable Bazaar, established at Kensington.
J.B.
XVII.
A LETTER FROM CHELTENHAM.
TO JOHN BULL.
Cheltenham, April 11, 1828.
MY DEAR B.,--I have been prevented writing you of late; two of my
youngest daughters have had the mizzles, which has been succeeded by
a cough and considerable expectation, but I have changed my doctor,
and shall do uncommon well now. The last person, who fancies himself
a second Hippocrite, had the impotence to say my girls had a low
fever--girls brought up as they have been, like duchesses--so I said
nothing; but when he called again, I was denied to him and sent for
his arrival; and we are all going on well, and keep up our spirits
accordingly.
A regiment is I believe the best thing after all; for I have just
discovered that Shakspeare, the mortal bird, as my son calls him,
died of indisgestion, which I did not know till my new doctor told
me so; he said, that poor Shakspeare was quite destroyed by common
tato's, which must have been some coarse sort of the root in use in
his time; and the doctor also told me, that he was attended by a
Doctor Johnson and a Mr. Stevens; but I thought to myself, too many
cooks spoil the broth; and even my medical said he thought he would
have done better if they had left him alone. What made us talk about
the great swain of Avon was my saying I thought She Stoops to Conquer
a very droll play.
My son-in-law has bought a beautiful picture, a Remnant undoubted;
it is as black as your hat, and shines like a tea tray, and is
considered, as indeed it is, what the French call, a _shade over_
of that great master; he has also bought a jem of considerable
vallew; he says it is an antic of a dancing fawn, but it looks to me
like a man with a tail, a jumping. He has got several very curious
things at shops here; but he goes poking his nose into all the oles
and corners for curiosities, and sometimes gets into sad scrapes;
he is a French Mounsheer, you recollect; and at one of the sails
he scraped acquaintance with a young dandy-looking man with dark
musquitos on his lips, which we had seen every morning a drinking
the waters regularly, and so we let him walk and talk with us; and
at last we was told that he was no better than he should be, and had
been convicted of purgery, which I did not think so great a crime,
considering where we was; however, he is gone away, which I am glad
of.
I told you my son-in-law was a French Mounsheer, but I did not know
till the other day that he was in the army, for he has been so sly
as never to mention it; but I saw one of his letters from his elder
brother, and in the direction he called him Cadet, which after all is
no very high rank, you know. I should, however, have very much liked
to have seen the boys from the Miliary Asslum march to the Surrey
Theatre; it must have been a beautiful site; I suppose they got leave
through the Egerton General's office.
Have you read Lord Normandy's _Yes or No_, or Mr. Liston's _Herbert
Lacy_? I should think it must be very droll, he is such a droll
cretur himself; and pray tell me if you have heard any news from
Portingal of the Don. Major Macpherson calls him Don _M'Gill_, and
Captain O'Dogherty calls him Don _My jewel_--how do you pronounce
it? I am told Lord Doodley used to call him, while he was in London,
_My gull_.
There is not much stirring here; the good effect of the waters is
quite aperient in our family; we are all mending, and exorcise
ourselves for four hours at a time on what is called the well walk,
which is a different place from the sick walk, which is entirely for
the innphaleeds. Lavinia has got hold of a book called _Bookarchy_,
containing the lives of a hundred Knights, she says; but she won't
shew it to her sisters as is not yet marred; it is translated out of
a foren tongue by a Mr. D. Cameron; all the Scotch is very clever.
Mr. Fulmer is going to Hauksvut next term, to be made a Doctor of
Laws. He says he shall be away only two days, but I doubt its being
over so soon, because he told me himself it must be done by degrees.
After he is made a Doctor, he says he means to practise; but I told
him I thought he had better practise first, in order to understand
what he has to do afterwards. A friend of his came here to see him
from Hauksvut College, who I thought was a clergyman by his dress;
but I found out, by what Mr. Fulmer told me, that it was an old lady
in disguise, for he said she was Margaret Professor, and he even
went so far as to call her a Divinity, which to me did seem uncommon
strange. However, there is no understanding these scholars; for it is
not more than a fortnight since, that Fulmer told me he expected a
brazen-nosed man to dinner, and when the gentleman came, his nose was
just like other people's: so I suppose it was to surprise Lavinia,
who was reading a work on Nosology at the very time.
You will be pleased to hear that I have let my house in Montague
Place, unfurnished with conveniences, for three hundred and
twenty pounds a-year, besides taxis; and I have skewered a very
nice residence in the Regent's Park, within ten doors of the
Call-and-see-um where the portrait of St. Paul is to be exhibited,
and where I hope you will visit us; my two youngest, which is
a-shooten up, is uncommon anxious to know you, now they have made
their debutt into saucyity. The young one is a feline cretur as ever
trod shoe leather. The other is more of an orty crackter, with very
high spirts. They are indeed quite Theliar and Molpomona of the
Ramsbottoms.
If you should run down here before we leave for town, pray come and
take pot-luck, which is all we can offer you at Cheltenham. You must
take us as you find us: we are all in the family way, and, as you
know, delighted to see our friends, without any ceremony.
Do right, dear B., and send us the noose; for really the old Engines
who are here for their health look so billyus, that without something
to enliven us, we should get worse instead of better.
Ajew, ever yours,
D. L. RAMSBOTTOM.
XVIII.
HASTINGS AGAIN.
TO JOHN BULL.
Hastings, July 8, 1828.
DEAR B.,--Here we are, after a short tower to Dip in France, in the
esteem packet the _Tarbut_--my fourth has been mylad, as the French
say, and was recommended a little voyage, and she picked up an old
bow, which talked to her in French, and called her a belley spree,
which I thought was impotence, but Lavinia said no, and reminded me
of judy spree, which is another gallowsism, as they style them--but
why they call this place green and young Hastings, which is old and
brown, I don't know--they are going, however, to move it about a mile
nearer Bexhill, to the stone where William the Third landed when he
had conquered the Normans--our old bow said it was a capital sight
for a town; but as yet I couldn't see much, although everybody is
taking the houses before they are built.
We was a-staying with a couzen of mine near Lewis, before we crossed
the sea--he is married, and has a firm hornee, which his wife calls
a Russen hurby, it is so close to the town, and yet so uncommon
rural--the sheep he has, is called marinos, because it is near the
sea; and their wool is so fine that they fold them up every night,
which I had no notion of--they have two sorts of them, one, which
they call the fine weather mutton, stays out all night, I believe,
and the other doesn't. But the march of intellect is agoing on, for
the dirty boys about the farm-yard, they told me, are sent to Harrow,
and the sheep themselves have their pens found them every night; what
to do I don't know, and I never like to ask--at Battle, where there
is an old abbé living--we did not see him--they have built a large
chapel for the Unicorns; I scarcely know what sex they are--I know
the Whistling Methodists, because when Mr. Ram and I was young we
used to go to the meetin, and hear them preach like anything--there's
a great deal of religion in Sussex of one sort and another.
My eldest, Mrs. Fulmer, has come here for her a-coach-man--Fulmer
wishes it may be a mail, because what they have already is all gurls;
if it hadn't been for that, I should have gone to Mrs. Grimsditch's
soreye at Hackney last week, when I was to have been done out as
Alderman Wenables, but I was obliged to be stationary here. I was
so sorry to see in the noosepapers that when the Lord High Admiral
exhibited his feet on the 18th of June, Maria Wood was dressed up so
strange; they said that after she had been painted, and some part of
her scraped clean from duck weed, they tied flags to her stays, and
put a Jack into her head, which I think quite wrong, because them
Jacks is uncommon insinuating.
I see that in Portingal Don Myjewel has got three estates, but they
cannot be very grand ones, if they produces only a crown; however,
I don't know what they mean in that country, only as they call him
real, I suppose he is the rightful king--I don't henvy him, Mr.
B.--there's many happier than them as sets upon thorns, though they
be gilded ones.
We met one of the Engines here from Cheltenham--he talks of returning
to some friend of his in Hingy, I think he called him Ben Gall. I
know he spoke very familiar of him. He has been at Stinkomalee, in
Sealong, and at the Island of Malicious, where a gentleman of the
name of Paul killed himself with Virginia. Our Engine said he was
at Malicious and at Bonbon at the time of the Conquest, which my
Trusler's Crononhotonthologos tells me was in the year 1072, which
makes his old appearance not surprising--he is very antick indeed--he
says he shall go out in a China ship, which sounds to me very
venturesome, but I suppose he knows what he is about--he is going to
Bombay, he tells us, to buy cotton, but that, between you and me, is
nonsense, because if that was all, why could he not go to Flint's, in
Newport-market, where they sells every sort of cotton, all done up in
nice boxes ready for use?
One thing I heard about hunting while I was at the Firm Hornee which
I thought shocking. There is a Squire Somebody which keeps a pack of
beadles, and there is ever so many of them--and they sleep in the
kennell every night, and a man is paid to whip them into it--but that
is not the worst--they feed them upon humane flesh. You would not
scarce credit this, but I heard my cousin say that he wondered this
hot weather did not hurt the dogs, for that they had nothing to feed
on but the Graves.--Do just touch them up for this--I am sure they
deserve it.
That selection for member of Parliament in Clare is very strange,
isn't it? Our old bow tells us that O'Connell can't take his place
because he won't swear against transportation, for he says it is one
thing for a Papist to stand and another for him to sit, which _enter
noo_ I could have told _him_--however, he says he thinks O'Connell
will go to the Pigeon House strait from the selection. Of course I
did not like to ask what he wanted to do in such a place as a Pigeon
House, and so the conversation dropped; indeed, the bow (as we call
him) told us such a strange story about Mr. O'Connell's getting to
the top of a pole the first day, and keeping up there for four days
afterwards, that I begin to think he tells tarrydiddles sometimes.
He is very agreeable though, and I believe he is rich, which is the
mane point when one has gurls to settle. He is always a making French
puns, which he calls cannon balls,[15] but I never shall be much of a
parley vous, I did not take to it early enough.
We expect the Duke of Clarence to review the Blockhead service on
this coast, which will make us uncommon gay. He will visit the
_Ramlees_, which Captain Piggut commands, at Deal, and the _Epergne_,
Captain Maingay's ship, at New Haven. I should like to go to
Brighton, but Fulmer is afraid of movin his better half while she is
so illdisposed, and expectin every minute; however, when that is over
we shall, I dare say, go to London, and hope to see you in our new
house. If you come here we shall delight in seeing you; but I believe
you like London, and never leaves the bills of morality, if you can
help it. Adoo, dear B. They all sends their loves.
Yours,
LAVINIA D. RAMSBOTTOM.
P.S.--You write sometimes about the Niggers, and abuse them--depend
upon it they are uncommon mischievous even here; for my couzen told
me that the Blacks had got all his beans--I only gives this as an
int.
XIX.
NEWS FROM HASTINGS.
TO JOHN BULL.
Hastings, Aug. 4, 1828.
DEAR B.,--It is all over--Lavy is as well as can be expected--she was
put to bed with a gull, which sadly disappointed Fulmer, who was very
desirous of having a sun and air. We have had another burth in our
family, of which I says nothing--the dennymang of that fox paw[16]
has been uncommon unpleasant; however, when such things happen to
females, they must grin and bear them, as the saying goes.
We have found out who our old bow is: he is the Count Narly, a
French mounsheer of high rank, and acquainted with Prince Pickle and
Mustard, the gentleman who was at the haughtycultural breakfast with
Mrs. Wise, the day she was so silly as to try to drown herself in a
bason--if it had not been that one of the Human Society had picked
her up, she must have been a lost cretur--Fulmer calls her a diving
bell, but I'm sure I don't know why.
Count Narly is very conversible, only he talks all in French--Fulmer
says that he is too much of a hegoatist, and that all his nannygoats
are about himself. He is acquainted with Mr. Brunel, who has put his
toenail under the river Thames, who has asked him to visit him in
London.
I was very glad to see some partitions in Parlyment against
sutties--the sooner they does away with the poor little climbing boys
the better--no wonder they burn themselves sometimes--and I see it is
just the same in Hingy, although one wouldn't think they wanted fires
there.
As soon as ever Lavy gets about we are going to Brighton to drink the
water, which some gentlemen there makes for the use of inphalids--it
is uncommon curious how they do it; but I'm told that you may get
there the Side-shoots and the Side-lights, and the Carls bad water,
(I don't know if they have any of that sort, good,) and the Spawn
water, and the Arrowgate, and Matchlock, and Hems, and Gentleman
salts; indeed, any sort you like to ask for--however, I don't think
I shall like Brighton much in this summer wether, they tell me there
are so many flies about. The 10th Huzzas are also there, which I
want very much to see--the foot regimen is moved from there, in
consequence, I suppose, of the quarrel between our King and Don
M'cgill, and, from all I can make out of it, a very silly quarrel it
is. Last year or so we were all going to loggerheads because one man
liked Turkey better than Grease, and now we are to have a blow up
because they cannot decide whether Port or Madeira should be opened
first--I have no patience with such stuff. I think if folks are to
quarrell, women is a better thing to quarrell about than wine, and so
the Autograph of Russia and the Grand Senior think, for they, I see,
are fighting about two of the fair secks, Bess Harabia, and Moll Davy.
There has been some dreadful wether here; the other evening, as I was
sitting at my twilight, preparing to go to bed, the eclectic fluid
looked quite awful, and the winds blowd tremendous; indeed the raging
of the elephants was terrific; two gentlemen were upset in a boat,
and obleeged to swim ashore in their He-meeses; at least that is what
I supposes French for shirts, because what the ladies wear they call
She-meeses; however, such has been the reign that it has come down
in Torrens, and if our Bows had not provided themselves with Duck
Trousers and Pumps, I don't know what they would have done.