"His horse which never in that sort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got,
Did wonder more and more."
COWPER
When he departed from his master, as we have described in the last
chapter, Mr. Billing went on his way with a joyful heart. But, thinking
the slow walking pace of his steed might safely be improved upon; and
also considering, that if he could only prevail upon the horse to walk a
little faster, it would facilitate his journey amazingly; he commenced a
series of exhortations that were excellent adjuncts to the theory which
advocates the superiority of persuasion to the application of force,
but extremely ineffective in practice, when the subject is a quadruped
of rather a stubborn nature, and perfectly ignorant of the vernacular in
which he is addressed. Thus, when Mr. Billing endeavoured to accelerate
the speed of his animal, by the utterance of such pathetic and endearing
appeals, as "now, come along, poor old horsey;" "there's a good old
horse;" "ge up;" "now, don't be angry" (as the beast showed signs of
uneasiness); "walk a little faster, like a good old horse;" we say we
would not have been surprised, had the horse paid no more heed to Mr.
Billing's entreaties than we should be likely to do, were we addressed
in a lively asinine interpellation, by one of those animals, whose
peculiar idiosyncrasies are proverbial. But, strange to say in this
case, the horse did notice the requests of his rider. Whether he was an
animal of superior discernment, and detected the wishes of Mr. Billing
in the tone of that gentleman's appeals; or, whether the intonation
sounded to his ears strange and novel, and stimulated him with a desire
to accommodate the applicant; or, whether he himself became anxious to
reach his destination, to realize his visions of a stable and a feed, we
cannot venture to say. But we simply record the fact, that Mr. Billing's
request to the "old horse" was complied with; and the quadruped went off
in a step, which was an incongruous mixture of a shambling walk, a
canter, and a trot.
That fable of the frogs, who in answer to their prayer for a king,
obtained a carnivorous monarch of the aves genus, has no doubt been
forcibly impressed on the memories of our readers during their
scholastic probation. They will readily, then, understand the feelings
of Mr. Billing, when he imprecated his rashness for disturbing the
equanimity of his horse's pace; and we are convinced that the animals in
the apologue never prayed more fervently for a discontinuance of their
visitation than he did for an alleviation of his misery. All his
"woa's," and "stop old horse's," were perfectly unavailing; the
quadruped proceeded without the slightest notice, and with the greatest
unconcern. But the torment to the biped was dreadful. What was he to do?
He had uttered the talismanic syllable, that had called up the spirit;
while he was not possessed of the power to exorcise it. His agony of
body, was only equalled by that of his mind. He remembered Mr.
Rainsfield had said the animal never went out of one step; and if that
in which he then was should be the step, which he would of a necessity
continue during the whole of the journey, what would become of him? The
thought was horrible and insuperable; but he, Mr. Billing, the quondam
pride of Thames Street, could not answer it; and in a stoical distress
of mind he gave vent to a sigh, which seemed to jolt out by inches the
centre of his little fastidious anatomy. He a thousand times wished
himself back again, safe alongside the partner of his bosom; when no
power on earth should persuade him to submit again to so ignoble a
position and spectacle, as a ride on horseback. But something must be
done, he thought; for as the horse proceeded in his jogging step, so did
Mr. Billing continue to be battered by his jolting.
The unfortunate equestrian was a perfect picture of distress. At every
step of the animal, he was almost bounded from his seat. He could not
speak, for the breath was almost shaken out of his body; while he dared
not look around for fear of losing his equilibrium. He had also lost his
hold of the bridle, which he dropt on the horse's neck; while he seized
the pommel of the saddle for his further security, with the air and
grasp of a resolute man who preferred even torture to the indignity of
being unseated.
What Mr. Billing's appearance was, when he was undergoing this ordeal,
our readers who have witnessed a first riding lesson can easily imagine;
and would, no doubt, were they witnesses of the scene, be ready to laugh
at the victim's sufferings as we penitently confess ourselves to have
done. Our friend's torture, however, continued as he turned over in his
mind the best means of obtaining relief. If he should be so far
fortunate as to meet any one in the road who would kindly stop the
refractory animal, he thought, how grateful he would be; but of that he
feared there was little chance. A thought, however, struck him and
suddenly illumined his perturbed spirit. Why could he not stop him
himself? It never occurred to him before, but now he experienced a gleam
of hope; he thought, if he could but pull the bridle, the animal would
cease his torturing career. But then how was he to effect this? If he
relinquished his hold, he might lose his seat; however, he determined to
try, and, summoning all his energies to his aid, he suddenly relaxed his
grasp of the saddle, seized the bridle, and gave it as violent a tug as
his strength would permit. His object, however, was not gained; for in
his avidity to stop the horse he had pulled on the one side of the
bridle, and his Rosinante, instead of slackening his speed to the
desired pace, turned his head and looked Cyclops-like at his rider, in a
way that said as plainly as looks could: "What is it you want?" But we
have already stated that Mr. Billing was not versed in the significance
of horse's looks, so he understood it not; but continued to tug with a
violence that threatened his own downfall, and the dislocation of the
quadruped's jaw.
Servants, however industrious and painstaking, may sometimes find it
difficult with petulant employers to ascertain the precise wishes of
their superiors; and not unfrequently have we witnessed some truculent
master abusing his menials for an act, the very nadir of which had
previously met with his disapprobation; leaving the abusees in a state
of doubt as to what really were the desires of "the master." In the same
way was the horse in our narrative. He turned his head in the direction
indicated by Mr. Billing's tug; and finding it still continued, he
followed with his whole body; and, possibly under the impression that
he was required to return home in the same leisure trot, he commenced a
retrogression. That was not, however, what his rider required, at least
while his journey was unaccomplished; for though, for his personal
comfort, he devoutly desired it, such a course of action could not be
thought of. Mr. Billing was a man of honour, and volunteered to perform
the duty; had even pledged his word; while his respected master had told
him that he relied upon his good judgment; therefore, was such a
confidence to be misplaced, and his integrity to be called into
question? "Never!" Mr. Billing mentally ejaculated; even if his life
were to be sacrificed in an expenditure of sighs. An imputation of such
a dereliction had never been cast upon the name of Billing, and should
he be the first to disgrace the family? He mentally replied with an
emphatic and forcible negative, and tugged away with increased energy at
the bridle he continued to hold in his hand.
It is needless to say the horse became bewildered at the manoevering
of his rider. He had never experienced such treatment before, and could
not comprehend its meaning. He stopped; the tugging continued. He turned
again, and the tugging ceased. He thus discovered the desire of his
director; and being at the time somewhat accommodatingly disposed, he
proceeded at a snail-paced ambulation. Our readers will have by this
time discovered that Mr. Billing's Rosinante was an animal of rather a
peculiar temperament; and will therefore be prepared to hear that,
having gained some experience of the style of individual on his back, he
gave evidences of a disposition which caused no little uneasiness to the
sensitive mind of the Strawberry Hill Mercury. This highly to be
deprecated perversity, displayed itself in various "little games" of his
own, which were performed with a degree of _nonchalance_ highly edifying
to an admirer of coolness, though extremely alarming to our friend.
Some of the most salient we may mention, were, grazing in the bush at
the side of the track; rubbing himself against the trees; taking erratic
turns in search of water-holes; and finally stopping altogether.
This trial was worse than all, and brought Mr. Billing's patience to a
culminating point. That the poor animal should desire a drink he thought
in no way extravagant; but to coolly stand still, and decline any
further progression, was the height of assumption; which even he could
not tolerate. He therefore grew importunate in his demands for
locomotion; and vibrated his legs like pendulums, while he shouted in a
voice that betrayed anger. He again seized the bridle, and tugged away
with equal violence as before, only varying the operation by pulling
alternately, one side, and the other. Under this, or some unaccountable
influence, the horse regained his amiability, and returned to the road;
and, moreover, took the right direction for Alma; which, though at a
pace by no means so fast as Mr. Billing could desire, yet in one which
he thought preferable to that, the inconveniences of which he had had
such tangible proof. However, he now jogged on at his leisure, and would
doubtless have continued to have done so without any further adventure,
had he not been disturbed from his equanimity by the unmistakeable
sounds of an approaching bullock dray. The idea of meeting this threw
him into a perfect state of perplexity, and he therefore thought of
getting off the track to allow it to pass; but how to guide his perverse
animal he knew not. The sounds came nearer, but his horse paid no
attention to his admonitions; so, with visions of being gored to death
by bullocks, he relinquished the contest with his animal, and gave
himself up for lost.
The dray slowly dragged its course along, and approached within sight of
our adventurous friend; when its companions, amused at the figure before
them, halted their team to have a little conversation with one whose
appearance was truly enough to excite their risibility. Mr. Billing's
horse, in like manner, aware that it was expected of him to halt, also
did so; and the individual, who officiated as driver to the team,
addressed the equestrian in the following easy style of familiarity:
"I say, mate, don't you think you'd better get inside?"
The force of this coarse joke was duly appreciated by the utterer's
travelling companions; though it was entirely lost upon our friend, who
gazed in mute astonishment at his questioner. While he indulges in this
visual inspection, we will crave permission to make a slight digression,
for the purpose of describing the parties thus unceremoniously
introduced to the reader's notice.
The driver of the dray, and the individual who had addressed Mr.
Billing, was a man of ordinary stature; slight in make, and past the
meridian of life. His features were sharp; his hair was tinged with
gray; his eyes were of the same colour, and somewhat sunken in his
head; on his chin and lip was hair of about a week's growth, having very
much the appearance of a worn-out scrubbing brush, and of quite as
course a texture. He was clad in the usual bushman's style, and carried
the long whip of his order. At his side walked a young man, in
appearance and manner a considerable improvement on the old one; and
high upon the laden dray were perched two females. One was an old dame
with features of the nut-cracker cast, and apparelled with an evident
desire to combine in her person all the prismatic hues. Her more
juvenile companion, while emulating the same laudable disposition, was
certainly superior in looks to her, in the same proportion as the young
man was to the old. The appearance of the whole party was such as
proclaimed them at once, to the practised eye of Mr. Billing, to be of a
class having no pretensions to gentility; though there was an air about
them of careless freedom and easy comfort that, to him, ill accorded
with their position. He had satisfied himself on this point, by his
scrutiny, when he ventured to reply to the before mentioned remark of
the old man by making the following observation:
"May I be permitted, my good sir, to enquire the nature of the
expression you just made use of? I presume you must have spoken in
metaphor."
"Not a bit, old cock," replied the man, "I guess I spoke in English. You
didn't seem to enjoy travelling that ere way, so I just axed you if
you'd get inside."
"And pray, sir, what did you mean by that?" asked Mr. Billing, whose
choler began to rise at what he considered the rude insolence of his
interrogator.
"Oh! nothing," replied the young man, who saw that their new
acquaintance was likely to be a little irascible, "my father was only
joking."
"And pray, young man," said Mr. Billing, "is not your father aware that
it is a gross breach of decorum his attempting to pass his jokes off on
a gentleman? eh, sir?"
"Certainly," replied the young fellow, "he is quite aware of it, but he
has got such a way of joking with people that he does it all the same
with friends and strangers; and I have no doubt he could not resist the
temptation of having a slap at you, when he saw so elegant a rider and
gentleman."
This attempt of the young witling, while it highly amused the various
members of the travelling menage, pacified Mr. Billing; who failed to
perceive any irony in it; and, addressing the elder of the party with
his usual suavity, he said, "May I be so bold as to enquire sir, the
point of your destination? As I am not aware of the expectation of any
one at our place, I presume you are bound for our neighbours at Fern
Vale?"
"No, we ain't, old fellow," replied the party addressed, "we are going
to our own place, t'other side of Fern Vale. I 'spose you don't know us?
My name's Sawyer, and this 'ere chap's my son: that there's my old
woman on the dray; and our gal alongside on her. I've bought a run on
the Gibson river, and am going to settle on it now. So, as you know all
about us, take a 'ball,' and tell us who you are." With which he handed
to Mr. Billing a bottle, containing some alcoholic fluid; and took out
his pipe which he inserted between his teeth, and made to give forth a
whistling sound, to satisfy himself upon the non-obstruction of the
passage, preparatory to replenishing it with the weed.
Mr. Billing having smelt the contents of the bottle, which had rather a
rummy odour, returned it to old Sawyer with the remark: "You really must
excuse me, sir, for I invariably make it a rule to abstain from spirits
in the middle of the day, and never at any time drink them raw."
"We can give you water old 'bacca' breeches, if you like it best that
way," replied Sawyer, sen.
"Not any, I thank you," said Billing, "I would prefer, I assure you,
sir, to be excused; at the same time I value your kind attention."
"Well, here's luck to you, old feller," said the other, as he took a
pull at the bottle. "I don't believe in watering grog, it spoils good
liquor. But I say, old cock, who are you?"
"I, sir," said Mr. Billing, not exactly relishing this unceremonious
style of questioning, and with difficulty suppressing his indignant ire,
at being so vulgarly addressed by a low-minded besotted man. "I, sir,"
he repeated, "am Mr. James Billing of Strawberry Hill, and late of the
firm of Billing, Barlow, & Co., of the city of London." He said this
with the air of a man who would strike his interrogator with a sense of
that forwardness that could prompt so rude a query as that which had
been made by the head of the Sawyer family; and as one resolved to
maintain the honour of his position, and claim that respect which was
due to him as the representative of that class which is the
acknowledged source of England's greatness; viz., the mercantile
community.
"I 'spect Strawberry Hill ain't yourn?" said Sawyer, unmindful of the
reproof conveyed in the tone and language of Mr. Billing. "I believe it
belongs to a chap of the name of Rainsfield, don't it?"
"Mr. Rainsfield is the proprietor of the station, sir," replied Billing,
"and I am his confidential assistant."
"Oh, the 'Super?' I suppose," exclaimed the other.
"No, sir," replied our friend, "his accountant."
"Oh, I see," cried the old man, as the nature of his interlocutor's
position flashed across his mind, "the storekeeper, that's all, eh? and
where are you going now, mate?"
"I can't see, sir," replied Mr. Billing, "how that can interest you in
the slightest degree. I am not called upon to submit to your
catechising; you must be perfectly aware that your questions are
bordering on the impertinent; and but that I am a man of peace, I would
resent your inquisitiveness, sir, as an insult."
"My father meant no offence, sir," said the young man, while his parent
gave vent to his amusement in a prolonged whistle, "it is only his way."
"And a most unwarrantable way too, sir," said the now irate commercial
man.
"You need not get your rag out, old fellow," said the senior Sawyer, "if
you can't take a bit of chaff you oughtn't to live in the bush."
"Of that, sir, I'm the best judge," replied the indignant Billing. "No
man is justified in offering chaff, as you call it, to a gentleman;
more especially when the parties are perfect strangers. I made no rude
and inquisitive remarks to you; and am surprised that you should have
ventured to utter them to me."
"Well, old fellow," said the other, "I ain't agoing to quarrel with you
no how, so if you don't mean to tell us where you're going, why, you
can just please yourself."
"That, sir, I intend to do," replied Mr. Billing; "so, if you have no
further enquiries to make, we may just as well part company."
"All right, old chap," said Mr. Sawyer, "we'll go;" and while he put his
team in motion, with his whip, he imparted a slight titillation to the
flanks of Mr. Billing's horse, which caused that eccentric animal to go
off in the step most torturing to his rider, amidst the united
cachinnations of the Sawyer family.
Mr. Billing experienced a return of all his former horrors; but his
efforts this time to reduce his horse to a tractable obedience were
fruitless; the animal persisted in keeping to his own pace,
notwithstanding the various tugs, bridle sawings, admonitions, and
solicitations of our disconsolate equestrian. He was fain at last to
give up the contention, and submit to his fate; and, be it mentioned to
his commendation, he bore his torture to the end of his journey with a
degree of fortitude perfectly astounding.
It was night when the horse stopped in front of the "Woolpack" inn, at
Alma, and well was it for Mr. Billing's sensitiveness that it was so;
for it saved him from the cruel jeers and laughter of the unsympathising
ignoramuses who would have been sure to have made his misfortunes a
subject for merriment. He was aroused from the abstraction of his calm
resignation by the cessation of motion; and he perceived, with a lively
joy, that his troubles were for the time at an end. How he got down from
his saddle we are as ignorant as he was himself; though we can affirm
that he scrambled off in such a manner as to bring himself to the ground
in a prostrate position. Upon recovering from his surprise, after
carefully brushing the dust from his apparel, he noticed that his horse,
who was apparently well acquainted with the _locale_ of the place, had
entered the yard, and was standing at the stable door, waiting with an
exemplary patience to be admitted. Leaving him there, to be attended to
by the proper authority, our friend entered the house with a step
somewhat resembling the progression which, is to be assumed, would be
that of an animated pair of compasses. He was met in the passage of the
hostel by an individual of the masculine gender, who, with a sardonic
grin, asked him "if that 'ere 'oss what was in the yard belonged to
him;" and being answered in the affirmative, and that the repliant
desired to be shown to the coffee-room, and required supper and a bed,
he remarked, "I suppose you come from Mr. Rainsfield's? I know'd his old
'oss the moment I seed him, and he knows us as well as he does his
master."
"Indeed!" replied Mr. Billing, "it's very probable, my good fellow; but
I have no desire to enter into a discussion with you respecting the
merits or acquaintances of the animal. I would be exceedingly obliged to
you if you would show me to my bed-room, and let me have some supper as
soon as possible."
"I don't think you've been much used to a riding of 'orses, sir," said
the cool stable functionary, as he eyed our travel-worn friend from apex
to base. But Mr. Billing was too indignant to answer him. He really
thought that all the vagabonds in the country had conspired to insult
him, and he determined to submit to their contumelies no longer; so,
turning round upon his questioner, with a look of indignant scorn, he
said:
"I'll suffer no impertinence from you, sir, and I have to request you'll
refrain from indulging in any further offensive remarks and queries,
sir. If you are the landlord of this hostlery, sir, you are evidently
unacquainted with your business; and if you are a servant in the
establishment be good enough to inform your master that I desire to
speak to him."
"All right, sir," replied the man, "if you want to see the gov'ner I'll
tell him." Saying which, the facetious servant took his departure with
an evident risible excitement. In a few minutes the landlord himself
made his appearance; and received Mr. Billing's order, and complaint
against the domestic, with as much indifference as if they were matters
not worth noticing; and without deigning any acknowledgment or reply
beyond that which he put to his visitor in the following words.
"Do you want anything to drink?"
"Not at present, I thank you," replied the urbane son of commerce; "I
desire first to have something to eat."
"Oh! then you'll have to wait," replied the landlord, "for we don't cook
meals at this time of night."
"Well, my good friend," replied Mr. Billing, "I don't wish to
inconvenience you, and your household; but I am perfectly voracious, and
desire something solid. I am not fastidious and would be content with
something cold, if your larder contains such."
"No, we ain't got nothing cold," replied the master of the "Woolpack;"
"we never keep it:" and with a grunt this specimen of politeness left
the room.
The unfortunate Mr. Billing was now subject to another species of
annoyance; and we verily believe, had he not been the personification of
patience, he would have been perfectly driven to distraction. Though
shouts of revelry, and indications of drinking, emanated from the bar,
he was not surprised or disturbed, for he expected it; but he heard
sounds in the passage as of suppressed laughter, accompanied by stifled
expressions in a strong Hibernian dialect. Whether the utterance was by
male or female, it was difficult to conjecture; but Mr. Billing's doubts
(if he had had any on the subject) were soon put to rest, for he plainly
discerned the frontispiece of a biped; which, by the manner of arranging
its natural scarlet covering, plainly proclaimed itself as belonging to
the order of feminine. The features displayed a broad grin; and an
inquisitive glance met that of our friend, as he stood facing the door.
The head was hastily withdrawn when its owner perceived it had been
noticed; but a laugh succeeded its withdrawal, and another cranium was
protruded into the aperture, and retired in its turn with a laugh, to
make way for another.
Mr. Billing submitted to this scrutiny with the assumed fortitude of a
stoic; and attempted to allay his rising ire, and deceive his perturbed
spirit, by whistling one of the favourite airs from Norma. Now, Mr.
Billing prided himself upon the accomplishment of whistling; for he did
consider it an accomplishment, notwithstanding that some people call it
vulgar. He had given it his study; and when in the height of
conviviality, when he was at any time induced to favour his friends with
a specimen of his art, he would throw his whole soul into the
performance, and remain an unconscious spectator of passing events until
the last note of his Æolian melody died away amid the vociferous
plaudits of his friends. He therefore, on this occasion, resolved to
indulge in a little music to save himself from a knowledge of the
annoyance of the menials' gaze, and to show them his utter contempt both
for them and their unparalleled rudeness. With his eyes, then, firmly
fixed upon a cleanly-dispositioned fly on the canvas ceiling of the
room, as it was going through various crural manipulations on its
cranium, he warbled forth a stanza in his most enchanting strain; so
exquisitely sweet as to have softened the hearts of heathens had they
been present. At least so says Congreve, in his oft-used sentiment, such
is the opiate influence of phrygian chords on unsophisticated natures;
but in the auditory of Mr. Billing it was otherwise. They possessed no
taste for music, and only greeted his performance with screams of
laughter.
Human nature could not quietly submit to this fresh indignity, and Mr.
Billing advanced with undisguised chagrin, and banged the door upon the
sounds of retreating merriment. He was annoyed, disgusted, and ill at
ease; and mentally made a resolution to get out of the place as speedily
as possible, and never to darken the door again. It was fully an hour
before his expected repast was put upon the table; and with a disturbed
spirit, and body racked with pains of unutterable puissance, he partook
of his meal and early sought the consolation of his pillow.
On the following morning he habited and arranged himself with
punctilious neatness; and waited upon Mr. Gilbert, the principal or
rather the only storekeeper in the town, for the purpose of obtaining
the articles required by Mr. Rainsfield. Upon his procuring these he
arranged them in the valise prepared for them, and settled his reckoning
at the inn previous to taking his departure. At his desire the horse was
brought to the door; and, being provided with a chair, he effected a
mounting with less difficulty than on the previous day. But his trials
were not yet at an end; for not only the whole inmates of the Woolpack
inn, but almost the entire population of the township (some hundred
people), assembled _en masse_ to witness the start of the potent
personage. The horse was set in motion by an admonitory application of a
stick by one of the bystanders, which started him off in the step which
was the dread of our friend; while he was hailed on all sides with a
deafening cheer and shouts of laughter, which rung in his ears for some
distance on his journey.