qualification whatever than her carriage, which (to use Bagshaw's words)
would carry herself and _us three_, and also transplant a large portion
of the provender to the place of rendezvous.
Bagshaw having made out a fair copy of this list, somewhat in the shape
of a bill of parcels, this, the first step towards the "pleasantest
thing that ever was," was taken with entire satisfaction.
"Why, Bagshaw," exclaimed Uncle John, who had cast up the numbers,
"including our three selves, we shall be thirteen!"
The member of the institution perceived the cause of his alarm! but
having been lectured out of _prejudices_ respecting matters of greater
moment than this, he prepared a look of ineffable contempt as his only
reply; however, happening to think of Uncle John's twelve thousand
pounds, he suppressed it, and just contented himself with,
"And what then, sir?"
"Why, _then_, sir, that is a risk I won't run; and unless we can manage
to--I have it! the very man. How came we to forget him?
_The--very--man!_ You know Jack Richards?"
The last four words were delivered in a tone implying the utter
impossibility of any human creature being unacquainted with Jack
Richards.
"Not in the least, sir. I never heard of him."
"What! never heard of Ja--The thing is impossible; everybody knows Jack
Richards. The very thing for us; such a wit! such a wag!--he is the life
and soul of everything. Should he be unengaged for the 24th of August.
But he is so caught up! I was invited to meet him at dinner last Sunday
at Jones's, but he didn't come. Such a disappointment to us! However, I
shall meet him on Thursday at the Tims's, if he should but keep his
promise, and then--"
"But, uncle," said Mrs. Bagshaw, "hadn't you better send him an
invitation at once?"
"I'll do better still, my dear; I'll call at his lodgings, and if I find
him hanging loose, I'll bring him to dine with you to-day." Then,
turning to Bagshaw, he added, "That a man like _you_ shouldn't know Jack
Richards, is surprising!"
As this was evidently pointed at Mr. Claudius Bagshaw in his capacity of
member of a learned body, Bagshaw pursed up his mouth into a
mock-modesty smile, and slightly bowed. Off went Uncle John in quest of
Jack Richards; and, that the pleasantest thing in the world might not
suffer by delay, off went Mr. Bagshaw to apprize the Snodgrasses, the
Groutses, and the rest of the nominees; and, more important still, off
went the lady to the poulterer's, to inquire whether he was likely to
have any nice pigeons for a pie, about the twenty-third of next month.
The dinner-hour arrived, and so did Uncle John, but with a face of
unspeakable woe.
"I feared how it would be."
"What! can't he be with us on the 24th?" inquired both the Bagshaws at
the same instant.
"He will if he can; but he won't promise. But to-day!--However, it
serves us right; we were unwise to indulge a hope of his coming at so
short a notice. He has almost engaged himself to you for Sunday
fortnight, though. What a creature it is!--he has given me such a pain
in my side!"
"Something he said that almost killed you with laughing? Repeat it,
uncle, repeat it."
"Why, no, he didn't say anything particular; but he has a knack of
poking one in the ribs, in his comical way, and sometimes he hurts
you."
We intended to describe Jack Richards at length; Uncle John's accidental
notice of this trait has, most probably, rendered that trouble
unnecessary. Indeed, we feel that we need scarcely add to it, that he
can sing a devilish good song (and everybody knows what is meant by
that), and imitated the inimitable Mathews's imitations of the actors,
not even excepting his imitation of Tate Wilkinson's imitation of
Garrick.
Except the uncertainty of Jack Richards, the result of the morning's
occupation was satisfactory. Bagshaw, still retaining his old
business-like habits of activity and industry, had contrived to wait on
every person named in the list, all of whom had promised their
attendance; and Mrs. Bagshaw had received from the poulterer a positive
assurance that he would raise heaven and earth to supply her with
pigeons on the 23d of the ensuing August!
Committees were forthwith summoned. First, a committee to consider of
the whereabout. At this, after an evening of polite squabbling, which
had nearly put an end to the project altogether, Twickenham meadows
received the honor of selection,--_nem. con._ as Bagshaw said. Next,
lest it should happen, as it did once happen, for want of such
preconcert, that a picnic party of ten found themselves at their place
of meeting with ten fillets of veal and ten hams, Mr. Bagshaw called a
committee of "provender." Here it was settled that the Snodgrasses
should contribute four chickens and a tongue; the Bagshaws, their
pigeon-pie; Wrench and son, a ham; Sir Thomas Grouts, a hamper of his
own _choice_ wine; Miss Snubbleston, a basket of fruit and pastry;
Uncle John, his silver spoons, knives, and forks; and Jack Richards--his
charming company. And lastly came the committee for general purposes! At
this important meeting, it was agreed that the party proceed to
Twickenham by water; that to save the trouble of loading and unloading,
Miss Snubbleston's carriage convey the hampers, etc., direct to the
place appointed,--the said carriage, moreover, serving to bring the
ladies to town, should the evening prove cold; that, for the
_water-music_, the following programme be adopted: 1. On reaching
Vauxhall Bridge, the concert to commence with Madame Pasta's grand scena
in "Medea," previous to the murder of the children, by Miss Corinna
Grouts. 2. Nicholson's grand flute concerto in five sharps, by Mr.
Frederick Snodgrass. 3. Grand aria, with variations, guitar, by Miss
Euphemia Grouts. 4. Sweet Bird; accompaniment, flute obligato, Miss C.
G. and Mr. F. S.--and 5. The Dettingen Te Deum (arranged for three
voices, by Mr. F. S.) by Miss Euphemia, Miss Corinna, and Mr. Frederick
Snodgrass. The "interstices," as Mr. Bagshaw called them, to be filled
up by the amusing talents of the elder Wrench and Uncle John's friend.
And, lastly, that the company do assemble at Mr. Bagshaw's on the
morning of the 24th of August, at ten o'clock _precisely_, in order to
have the advantage of the tide both ways.
Three days prior to the important 24th, Mr. Bagshaw went to engage the
boat, but, in a squabble with the boatman, Mr. B. got a black eye. This
was the first mishap.
Restless and impatient though you be, depend upon it, there is not a
day of the whole three hundred and sixty-five will put itself, in the
slightest degree, out of the way, or appear one second before its
appointed time, for your gratification. O that people would consider
this, and await events with patience! Certainly Mr. Bagshaw did not. The
night of the 23d to him appeared an age. His repeater was in his hand
every ten minutes. He thought the morning would never dawn,--but he was
mistaken; it did; and as fine a morning as if it had been made on
purpose to favor his excursion. By six o'clock he was dressed!--by eight
the contributions from all the members had arrived, and were ranged in
the passage. There was their own pigeon-pie, carefully packed in brown
paper and straw; Sir Thomas's hamper of his own choice wine; and the
rest. Everything promised fairly. The young ladies and Mr. Frederick had
had thirty rehearsals of their grand arias and concertos, and were
perfect to a demi-semiquaver; Jack Richards would _certainly_ come; and
the only drawback upon Mr. Bagshaw's personal enjoyment--but nothing in
this world is perfect--was the necessity he was under of wearing his
green shade, which would totally deprive him of the pleasure of
contemplating the beauties of the Thames scenery,--a thing he had set
his heart upon. Nine! ten!
"No one here yet! Jane, my love, we shall infallibly lose the tide." And
for the next quarter of an hour the place of the poor repeater was no
sinecure.
A knock! Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass and Mr. Frederick. Another! The whole
family of the Groutses. Next came Mr. Charles Wrench.
"Bless us! Mr. Charles," said Bagshaw, "where is your father?"
Now, Mr. Wrench, senior, was an agreeable old dentist, always gay,
generally humorous, sometimes witty; he could _sketch_ characters as
well as _draw_ teeth; and, on occasions of this kind, was invaluable.
The son was a mere donkey; a silly, simpering, well-dressed young
gentleman, the owner of no more than the eighth of an idea, and of a
very fine set of teeth, which he constantly exhibited like a sign or
advertisement of his shop. Appended to everything he uttered were a
preface and postscript, in the form of a sort of Billy-goat grin.
"He! he! he! he! Fayther regrets emezingly he caint come, being called
to attend the Duchess of Dilborough. He! he! he! he!"
As we have already said that it was in pure compliment to the father
that the son was invited, and not at all for the sake of his own
company, his presence was a grievous aggravation of the disappointment.
The next knock announced Miss Snubbleston. But where was her carriage?
Why, it had been newly varnished, and they might scratch her panels with
the hampers; and then she was afraid of her springs. So here was Miss
Snubbleston without her carriage, for the convenience of which alone she
had been invited, considered by the rest in exactly the same light as
young Mr. Wrench without old Mr. Wrench,--_id est_, a damper. A new
arrangement was the necessary consequence; and the baskets, under the
superintendence of a servant, were jolted down in a hackney-coach, to be
embarked at Westminster. But Miss Snubbleston brought with her a
substitute, which was by no means a compensation. Cupid, her wretched,
little, barking, yelping, Dutch pug, had eaten something that had
disagreed with him, and his fair mistress would not "for worlds" have
left him at home while he was so indisposed. Well, no one chose to be
the first to object to the intruder, so Cupid was received.
"But where can Uncle John and his friend be? We shall lose the tide,
that's certain," was scarcely uttered by Mr. Bagshaw, when in came our
uncle, together with the long-expected Jack Richards.
The usual introductions over, Mr. Richards saluted everybody with the
self-sufficient swagger of a vulgar lion.
"The day smiles auspicious, sir," said Bagshaw, who thought it requisite
he should throw off something fine to so celebrated a person.
"Smile?--a broad grin, I call it, sir." And here was a general laugh.
"O, excellent!"
"Capital!"
Uncle John, proud of his friend, whispered in Bagshaw's ear, "You see,
Jack's beginning." And now hats and gloves were in motion.
"You have got your flute, Frederick?"
"Yes, mother," was the reply.
"Lau, ma," cried Miss Corinna, "if I haven't come without 'Sweet Bird,'
and my scena from 'Medea,' I declare."
As these were indispensable to the amusements of the day, a servant was
despatched for them. He couldn't be gone longer than half an hour. Half
an hour! thought Bagshaw; 'tis eleven now; and the tide.--But the
servant was absent a few minutes beyond the half-hour, and poor Bagshaw
suffered severely from that gnawing impatience, amounting almost to
pain, which every mother's son of us has experienced upon occasions of
greater--or less importance than this. They were again at the very point
of starting, when a message was brought to Mrs. Snodgrass that little
Master Charles had cut his thumb dreadfully! What was to be done? Mrs.
Snodgrass vowed she shouldn't be easy in her mind the whole day unless
she knew the extent of the mischief; and as they _only_ lived in Euston
Square, and she could be there and back again in twenty minutes, she
would herself go see what really was the matter,--and away she went.
Twenty minutes! During all this time, Bagshaw--but who would attempt to
describe anguish indescribable? At length he was relieved by the return
of Mrs. Snodgrass; but, to the horror and consternation of himself and
of all present, she introduced the aforesaid Master Charles,--an ugly,
ill-tempered, blubbering little brat of seven years old, with a bloated
red face, scrubby white hair, and red eyes; and with the interesting
appendage of a thick slice of bread and butter in his hand.
"I'm sure you'll pardon this liberty," said the affectionate mamma; "but
poor Charley has cut himself very much, and he would not be pacified
till I consented to take him with us. He has promised to be very good.
There, don't cry any more, darling!" and, accordingly, the urchin roared
with tenfold vigor. There were no particular manifestations of joy at
this arrival; and it is just possible, although nothing was uttered to
that effect, that there did exist a general and cordial wish that young
Master Snodgrass were sprawling at the bottom of the deepest well in
England. Uncle John, indeed, did utter something about the pug and the
child--two such nuisances--people bringing their brats into grownup
company.
At length the procession set out: the Bagshaws, Uncle John, and Jack
Richards bringing up the rear in a hackney-coach. On reaching the corner
of the street, Mrs. Bagshaw called out to the driver to stop.
"What is the matter, dear?" said Bagshaw.
"Your eye-lotion, love."
"Well, never mind that, sweet."
"Claudius, I shall be miserable if you go without it. Dr. Nooth desired
you would use it every two hours. I must insist,--now, for my sake,
love,--such an eye as he has got, Mr. Richards!"
So away went Bagshaw to the Lake of Lausanne Lodge for the lotion,
which, as it always happens when folks are in a hurry, it took him a
quarter of an hour to find.
They were now fairly on the road.
"What a smell of garlic!" exclaimed Uncle John; "it is intolerable!"
"Dear me!" said Mr. Richards, "do you perceive it? 'Tis a fine Italian
sausage I bought at Morel's, as my contribution. We shall find it an
excellent relish in the country." And he exhibited his purchase,
enveloped in a brown paper.
"Pha! shocking!--'tis a perfect nuisance! Put it into your pocket again,
or throw it out at the window." But Mr. Richards preferred obeying the
first command.
Apropos of contributions--"Uncle, have you brought your spoons?"
"Here they are," replied Uncle, at the same time drawing from his pocket
a parcel in size and form very closely resembling Mr. Richards's
offensive contribution.
On arriving at Westminster Bridge, they found the rest of the party
already seated in the barge, and the first sound that saluted their ears
was an intimation that, owing to their being two hours behind time (it
was now past twelve), they should hardly save the tide.
"I knew it would be so," said Bagshaw, with more of discontent than he
had thought to experience, considering the pains he had taken that
everything should be well ordered.
As Uncle John was stepping into the boat, Richards, with great
dexterity, exchanged parcels with him, putting the Italian sausage into
Uncle John's pocket and the spoons into his own; enhancing the wit of
the manoeuvre by whispering to the Bagshaws, who, with infinite
delight, had observed it.
"Hang me," said Richards, "but he shall have enough of the garlic!"
The old gentleman was quite unconscious of the operation, as Richards
adroitly diverted his attention from it by giving him one of his
facetious pokes in the ribs, which nearly bent him double, and drew a
roar of laughter from every one else.
Just as they were pushing off, their attention was attracted by a loud
howling. It proceeded from a large Newfoundland dog which was standing
at the water's edge.
"Confound it!" cried Richards, "that's my Carlo! He has followed me,
unperceived, all the way from home--I would not lose him for fifty
pounds. I must take him back--pray put me ashore. This is very
provoking--though he is _a very quiet dog_!"
There was no mistaking this hint. Already were there two nuisances on
board,--Master Charles and the Dutch pug: but as they were to choose
between Jack Richards with his dog, or no Jack Richards (or in other
words, no life and soul of the party), it was presently decided that
Carlo should be invited to a seat on the hampers, which were stowed at
the head of the boat,--Uncle John having first extracted from Mr.
Richards an assurance that their new guest would lie there as still as a
mouse. This complaisance was amply rewarded by a speedy display of Mr.
Richards's powers of entertainment. As soon as they reached the middle
of the river Jack Richards suddenly jumped up, for the purpose of
frightening Miss Snubbleston; a jest at which everybody else would have
laughed, had not their own lives been endangered by it. Even his great
admirer suggested to him that once of that was enough. His next joke was
one of a more intellectual character. Though he had never till this day
seen Sir Thomas, he had accidentally heard something about his former
trade.
"What is the difference between Lord Eldon and Sir Thomas Grouts?"
Nobody could tell.
"One is an ex-chancellor,--the other is an ex-chandler." Everybody
laughed, except the Grouts family.
This was succeeded by another thrust in Uncle John's side; after which
came a pun, which we shall not record, as the effect of it was to force
the ladies to cough and look into the water, the gentlemen to look at
each other, and Mrs. Snodgrass to whisper to Mrs. Bagshaw,--
"Who _is_ this Mr. Richards?"
Indeed, there would have been no end to his pleasantries had they not
been interrupted by a request that Miss Corinna would open the concert,
as they were fast approaching Vauxhall Bridge. Mr. Bagshaw (looking at
the programme, which he had drawn out on paper ruled with red and blue
lines) objected to this, as it would disturb the previous arrangement,
according to which the concert was not to commence till they were
_through_ the bridge. This objection was overruled, and the fair Corinna
unrolled the music, for which the servant had been despatched with so
much haste. Miss Corinna screamed. What was the matter?
"They had not sent the grand scena from Medea, after all, but a wrong
piece!" And the pains she had taken to be perfect in it!
"Could not Miss Corinna sing it from memory?"
"Impossible!"
"How careless of you, Corinna! then sing what they have sent."
"Why, ma," said Corinna, with tears in her eyes, and holding up the
unfortunate sheets,--"why, bless me, ma, I can't sing the overture to
Der Freyschutz!"
The difficulty of such a performance being readily admitted, Mr.
Frederick Snodgrass declared himself but too happy to comply with the
calls for his concerto in five sharps, which stood next on the list; and
with the air of one well satisfied that an abundance of admiration and
applause would reward his efforts, he drew forth his flute, when, lo!
one of the joints was missing! This accident was nearly fatal to the
musical entertainments of the day; for not only was the concerto thereby
rendered impracticable, but "Sweet Bird" with the flute-accompaniment
obligato, was put _hors de combat_. Disappointment having, by this, been
carried to its uttermost bounds, the announcement that two strings of
the guitar had gone was received with an indifference almost stoical;
and every one was grateful to Miss Euphemia for so _willingly_
undertaking (the whispered menaces of Lady Grouts being heard by nobody
but the young lady herself) to do all that could be done under such
untoward circumstances. She would endeavor to accompany herself through
a little ballad; but she failed.
Mr. Claudius Bagshaw, with all his literature, science, and philosophy,
now, for the first time, wondered how anything could fail, so much
trouble having been taken to insure success. Drawing forth his repeater,
he ahem'd, and just muttered,--
"Unaccountable! Hem! upon my word! One o'clock, and no pleasure yet!"
"One o'clock!" echoed his spouse; "then 'tis time for your eye, dear!"
And Bagshaw was compelled not only to suffer his damaged optics to be
dabbled by his tormentingly affectionate wife, but to submit again to
be hoodwinked, in spite of his entreaties to the contrary, and his
pathetic assurances that he had not yet seen a bit of the prospect; a
thing he had set his heart upon.
Now occurred a dead silence of some minutes. A steamboat rushed by.
Bagshaw seized this opportunity to make a display of his scientific
acquirements; and this he did with the greater avidity, as he had long
wished to astonish Vice-President Snodgrass. Besides, in the event of
his offering to deliver a course of lectures at the institution, the
vice-president might bear evidence to his capabilities for the
purpose,--his acquaintance not only with the facts, but with the terms
of science. Whether those terms were always correctly applied, we
confess ourselves not sufficiently learned to pronounce.
"How wondrous is the science of mechanism! how variegated its progeny,
how simple, yet how compound! I am propelled to the consideration of
this subject by having optically perceived that ingenious nautical
instrument, which has just now flown along like a mammoth, that monster
of the deep! You ask me how are steamboats propagated? in other words,
how is such an infinite and immovable body inveigled along its course? I
will explain it to you. It is by the power of friction: that is to say,
the two wheels, or paddles, turning diametrically, or at the same
moment, on the axioms, and repressing by the rotundity of their motion
the action of the menstruum in which the machine floats,--water being,
in a philosophical sense, a powerful non-conductor,--it is clear, that
in proportion as is the revulsion so is the progression; and as is the
centrifugal force, so is the--"
"Pooh!" cried Uncle John, impatiently; "let us have some music."
"I have an apprehension, Bagshaw," said the vice-president,--"that I
should not presume to dispute with you,--that you are wrong in your
theory of the centrifugal force of the axioms. However, we will discuss
that point at the grand-junction. But come, Frederick, the 'Dettingen Te
Deum.'"
Frederick and the young ladies having, by many rehearsals, perfected
themselves in the performance of this piece, instantly complied.
Scarcely had they reached the fourth bar, when Jack Richards, who had
not for a long time perpetrated a joke, produced a harsh, brassy-toned,
German eolina, and "blew a blast so loud and shrill," that the Dutch pug
began to bark, Carlo to howl, and the other nuisance, Master Charles, to
cry. The German eolina was of itself bad enough, but these congregated
noises were intolerable. Uncle John aimed a desperate blow with a large
apple, which he was just about to bite, at the head of Carlo, who, in
order to give his lungs fair play, was standing on all fours on the
hampers. The apple missed the dog, and went some distance beyond him
into the water. Mr. Carlo, attributing to Uncle John a kinder feeling
than that which actually prompted the proceeding, looked upon it as a
good-natured expedient to afford him an opportunity of adding his mite
to the amusements of the day, by displaying a specimen of his training.
Without waiting for a second hit, he plunged into the river, seized the
apple, and, paddling up the side of the boat with the prize
triumphantly exhibited in his jaws, to the consternation of the whole
party, he scrambled in between Uncle John and his master, dropped the
apple upon the floor, distributed a copious supply of Thames water
amongst the affrighted beholders, squeezed his way through them as best
he could, and, with an air of infinite self-satisfaction, resumed his
place on the hampers.