strange name in my lesson. Vat you call H-o-u-g-h,--eh?
Tutor. "Huff."
Fr. Très bien, "huff;" and snuff you spell s-n-o-u-p-h?
Tut. Oh! no, no! "Snuff" is spelled s-n-u-f-f. In fact,
words in o-u-g-h are a little irregular.
Fr. Ah, very good!--'t is beautiful language! H-o-u-g-h
is "huff." I will remember; and of course, c-o-u-g-h is "cuff."
I have a bad "cuff,"--eh?
Tut. No, that is wrong; we say "kauff,"--not "cuff"
Fr. "Kauff," eh? "Huff," and "kauff;" and, pardonnez-moi,
how you call d-o-u-g-h--"duff,"--eh? is it "duff?"
Tut. No, not "duff."
Fr. Not "duff!" Ah oui; I understand, it is "dauff,"
--eh?
Tut. No; d-o-u-g-h spells "doe."
Fr. "Doe!" It 's ver' fine! Wonderful language! It is
"doe;" and t-o-u-g-h is "toe," certainement. My beefsteak is
very "toe."
Tut. Oh! no, no! You should say "tuff."
Fr. "Tuff!" And the thing the farmer uses, how you
call him, p-l-o-u-g-h,--"pluff," is it? Ha! you smile. I see
that I am wrong; it must be "plaff." No? then it is "ploe,"
like "doe?" It is one beautiful language! ver' fine! "ploe!"
Tut. You are still wrong, my friend; it is "plow."
Fr. "Plow!" Wonderful language! I shall understand
ver' soon. "Plow" "doe" "kauff;" and one more r-o-u-g-h
--what you call General Taylor,--"Rauff and Ready?"
No? then "Row and Ready?"
Tut. No; r-o-u-g-h spells "ruff."
Fr. "Ruff," ha? Let me not forget. R-o-u-g-h is "ruff,"
and b-o-u-g-h is "buff,"--ha?
Tut. No; "bow."
Fr. Ah! 't is ver' simple! Wonderful language! But I
have had vat you call e-n-o-u-g-h,--ha? Vat you call him?--Ha! ha! ha!
Anonymous.
CCCLXXX.
HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS.
Mr. H.--Steward.
Mr. H. Ha! Steward, How are you, my old boy? How
do things go on at home?
Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the magpie's dead.
Mr. H. Poor mag! so he's gone. How came he to die?
Stew. Over-ate himself sir.
Mr. H. Did he, faith? a greedy dog; why, what did he get
he liked so well?
Stew. Horse-flesh, sir; he died of eating horse-flesh.
Mr. H. How came he to get so much horse-flesh?
Stew. All your father's horses, sir.
Mr. H. What! Are they dead, too?
Stew. Ay, sir; they died of over-work.
Mr. H. And why were they over-worked, pray?
Stew. To carry water, sir.
Mr. H. To carry water! and what were they carrying water
for?
Stew. Sure, sir, to put out the fire.
Mr. H. Fire! what fire?
Stew. Oh, sir, your father's house is burned down to the
ground.
Mr. H. My father's house burned down! and how came it
set on fire?
Stew. I think, sir, it must have been the torches.
Mr. H. Torches! what torches?
Stew. At your mother's funeral.
Mr. H. My mother dead!
Stem. Ah, poor lady, she never looked up after it.
Mr. H. After what?
Stew. The loss of your father.
Mr. H. My father gone too?
Stew. Yes, poor gentleman, he took to his bed as soon as he
heard of it.
Mr. H. Heard of what?
Stew. The bad news, sir, and please your Honor.
Mr. H. What! more miseries! more bad news?
Stew. Yes, sir, your bank has failed, and your credit is lost,
and you are not worth a shilling in the world. I made bold, sir,
to come to wait on you about it, for I thought you would like to
hear the news.
Anonymous.
CCCLXXXI.
THE CHOLERIC father.
CAPT. ABSOLUTE--SIR ANTHONY
Capt. A. Sir, I am delighted to see you here and looking
so well! Your sudden arrival at Bath made me
apprehensive for your health.
Sir A. Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack. What, are
you recruiting here, eh?
Capt. A. Yes, sir; I am on duty.
Sir A. Well, Jack! I am glad to see you, though I did not
expect it; for I was going to write to you on a little matter of
business. Jack, I have been considering that I grow old and
infirm, and shall probably not trouble you long.
Capt. A. Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong
and hearty; and I pray fervently that you may continue so.
Sir A. I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my
heart. Well, then, Jack, I have been considering that as I am
so strong and hearty, I may continue to plague you a long time.
Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission,
and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small pittance for
a lad of your spirit.
Capt. A. Sir, you are very good.
Sir A. And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy
make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to
fix you at once in a noble independence.
Capt. A Sir, your kindness overpowers me. Such generosity
makes the gratitude of reason more lively than the sensation
even of filial affection.
Sir A. I am glad you are so sensible of my attention; and
you shall be master of a large estate in a few weeks.
Capt. A. Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude. I
cannot express the sense I have of your munificence. Yet, sir,
I presume you would not wish me to quit the army?
Sir A. O, that shall be as your wife chooses.
Capt. A. My wife, sir?
Sir A. Ay, ay, settle that between you--settle that between
you.
Capt. A. A wife, sir, did you say?
Sir A. Ay, a wife--why did I not mention her before?
Capt A. Not a word of her, sir.
Sir A. Upon my word, I must n't forget her, though! Yes,
Jack, the independence I was talking of is by a marriage--the
fortune is saddled with a wife; but I suppose that makes no
difference?
Capt. A. Sir! sir, you amaze me!
Sir A. What 's the matter? Just now you were all gratitude
and duty.
Capt. A. I was, sir; you talked to me of independence and
a fortune, but not one word of a wife.
Sir A. Why, what difference does that make? Sir, if you
have the estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it
stands.
Capt. A. If my happiness is to be the price, I must beg leave
to decline the purchase. Pray, sir, who is the lady?
Sir A. What 's that to you, sir? Come, give me your promise
to love, and to marry her directly.
Capt. A. Sure, sir, that 's not very reasonable, to summon
my affections for a lady I know nothing of!
Sir A. I am sure, sir, 't is more unreasonable in you to object
to a lady you know nothing of.
Capt. A. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all,
that on this point I cannot obey you.
Sir A. Hark you, Jack! I have heard you for some time
with patience; I have been cool,--quite cool; but take care;
you know I am compliance itself, when I am not thwarted; no
one more easily led--when I have my own way; but don't put
me in a frenzy.
Capt. A. Sir, I must repeat it; in this I cannot obey you.
Sir A. Now, shoot me, if ever I call you Jack again while
I live!
Capt. A. Nay, sir, but hear me.
Sir A. Sir, U won't hear a word--not a word!--not one
word!--So, give me your promise by a nod; and I 'll tell you
what, Jack,--I mean, you dog,--if you don't--
Capt. A. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of
ugliness; to--
Sir A. Sir, the lady shall be as ugly as I choose; she shall
have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the
crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum;
she shall leave a skin like a mumps and the beard of a Jew;
he shall be all this, sir! Yet, I'll make you ogle her all day,
and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty!
Capt. A. This is reason and moderation, indeed!
Sir A. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humor for mirth
in my life.
Sir A. 'T is false, sir! I know you are laughing in your
sleeve. I know you'll grin when I am gone, sir!
Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better.
Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if,
you please! It won't do with me, I promise you.
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.
Sir A. I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know
you are, you hypocritical young dog! But it won't do!
Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word
Sir A. So you will fly out! Can't you be cool like me?
What good can passion do? Passion is of no service, you impudent,
insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again!
Don't provoke me! But you rely upon the mildness of my
temper, you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my
disposition! Yet, take care; the patience of a saint may be
overcome at last! But, mark: I give you six hours and a half
to consider of this: if you then agree without any condition, to
do everything on earth that I choose, why, I may, in time, forgive
you. lf not, don't enter the same hemisphere with me; don't
care to breathe the same air, or use the same light, with me;
but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you
of your commission; I'll lodge a five-and-three-pence in the
hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest! I'll disown
you. I'll disinherit you! I'll never call you Jack again.
[Exit.]
Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father!
I kiss your hand.
R. B. Sheridan.
CCCLXXXII.
ROLLA AND ALONZO.
[ENTER ROLLA DISGUISED AS A MONK.]
Rolla. Inform me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian,
confined in this dungeon?
Sentinel. He is.
Rolla. I must speak with him.
Sentinel. You must not.
Rolla. He is my friend.
Sentinel. Not if he were your brother.
Rolla. What is to be his fate?
Sentinel. He dies at sunrise.
Rolla. Ha! then I am come in time,
Sentinel. Just to witness his death.
Rolla. [Advancing toward the door.] Soldier, I must speak
with him.
Sentinel. [Pushing him back with his gun.] Back! Back!
it is impossible.
Rolla. I do entreat you, but for one moment.
Sentinel. You entreat in vain, my orders are most strict.
Rolla. Look on this massive wedge of gold! look on these
precious gems! In thy land they will be wealth for thee and
thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them; they are thine;
let me but pass one moment with Alonzo.
Sentinel. Away! Wouldest thou corrupt me?--me, an old
Castilian! I know my duty better.
Rolla. Soldier, hast thou a wife?
Sentinel. I have.
Rolla. Hast thou children?
Sentinel. Four honest, lovely boys.
Rolla. Where didst thou leave them?
Sentinel. In my native village, in the very cot where I was
born.
Rolla. Dost thou love thy wife and children?
Rolla. Do I love them? God knows my heart,--I do.
Rolla. Soldier, imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel
death, in a strange land,--what would be thy last request?
Sentinel. That some of my comrades should carry my dying
blessing to my wife and children.
Rolla. What if that comrade was at thy prison door, and
should there be told, "Thy fellow-soldier dies at sunrise, yet
thou shalt not for a moment see him, nor shalt thou bear his
dying blessing to his poor children, or his wretched wife!"--
What would'st thou think of him who thus could drive thy comrade
from the door?
Sentinel. How!
Rolla. Alonzo has a wife and child; and I am come but to
receive for her, and for her poor babes the last blessing of my
friend.
Sentinel. Go in. [Exit sentinel.]
Rolla. [ Calls] Alonzo! Alonzo!
[Enter Alonzo, speaking as he comes in.]
Alonzo. How! is my hour elapsed? Well, I am ready.
Rolla Alonzo--Know me!
Alonzo. Rolla! Heavens! how didst thou pass the guard?
Rolla. There is not a moment to be lost in words. This disguise
I tore from the dead body of a friar, as I passed our field
of battle. It has gained me entrance to thy dungeon; now take
it thou, and fly.
Alonzo And Rolla,--
Rolla. Will remain here in thy place.
Alonzo. And die for me! No! Rather eternal torture rack
me.
Rolla. I shall not die, Alonzo. It is thy life Pizarro seeks,
not Rolla's; and thy arm may soon deliver me from prison. Or,
should it be otherwise, I am as a blighted tree in the desert;
nothing lives beneath my shelter. Thou art a husband and a
father; the being of a lovely wife and helpless infant depend
upon thy life. Go, go, along, not to save thyself but Cora
and thy child.
Alonzo. Urge me not thus, my friend. I am prepared to
die in peace.
Rolla. To die in peace! devoting her you have sworn to live
for to madness, misery, and death!
Alonzo. Merciful Heavens!
Rolla. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo,--now mark me
well. Thou knowest that Rolla never pledged his word, and
shrank from its fulfilment. And here I swear, if thou art proudly
obstinate, thou shalt have the desperate triumph of seeing Rolla
perish by thy side.
Alonzo. O, Rolla! you distract me! Wear you the robe
and though dreadful the necessity we will strike down the guard
and force our passage.
Rolla. What, the soldier on duty here?
Alonzo Yes,--else, seeing two, the alarm will be instant
death.
Rolla. For my nation's safety, I would not harm him. That
soldier, mark me, is a man! All are not men that wear the
human form. He refused my prayers, refused my gold, refused
to admit, till his own feelings bribed him. I will not risk a
hair of that man's head, to save my heartstrings from consuming
fire But haste! A moment's further pause, and all is lost.
Alonzo Rolla, I fear thy friendship drives me from honor
and from right..
Rolla. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonor to his friend?
[ Throwing the friar's garment over his shoulder.] There! conceal
thy face. Now, God be with thee!
Kotzebue.
CCCLXXXIII.
THE ENGLISH TRAVELLER.
Traveller. Do you belong to this house, friend?
Landlord. No, it belongs to me, I guess. [ The Traveller
takes out his memorandum-book, and in a low voice reads
what he writes.]
Trav. "Mem. Yankee landlords do not belong to their
house's [Aloud] You seem young for a landlord: may I ask
how old you are?
Land. Yes, if you'd like to know.
Trav. Hem! [Disconcerted.] Are you a native, sir?
Land. No, sir; there are no natives hereabouts.
Trav. "Mem. None of the inhabitants natives; ergo, all
foreigners." [Aloud] Where were you born, sir?
Land. Do you know where Marblehead is?
Trav. Yes.
Land. Well, I was not born there.
Trav. Why did you ask the question, then?
Land. Because my daddy was.
Trav. But you were born somewhere.
Land. That 's true; but as father moved up country afore
the townships were marked out, my case is somewhat like the
Indian's who was born at Nantucket, Cape Cod, and all along
shore.
Trav. Were you brought up in this place, sir?
Land. No; I was raised in Varmount till mother died, and
then, as father was good for nothing after that I pulled up stakes
and went to sea a bit.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees, instead of putting up gravestones,
pull up stakes, and go to sea, when a parent dies" [Aloud]
You did not follow the sea long, for you have not the air of a
mariner.
Land. why, you see, I had a leetle knack at the coopering
business; and larning that them folks that carry it on in the
West Indies die off fast, I calculated I should stand a chance to
get a handsome living there.
Trav. And so you turned sailor to get there?
Land. Not exactly; for I agreed to work my passage by
cooking for the crew, and tending the dumb critters.
Trav. Dumb critters! Of what was your lading composed?
Land. A leetle of everything;--horses, hogs, hoop-poles,
and Hingham boxes; boards, ingyons, soap, candles, and ile.
Trav. "Mem. Soap, candles, and ile, called dumb critters
by the Yankees." [Aloud.] Did you arrive there safely?
Land. No, I guess we did n't.
Trav. Why not?
Land. We had a fair wind, and sailed a pretty piece, I tell
you; but jest afore we reached the eend of our vige, some
pirates overhauled us, and stole all our molasses, rum, and
gingerbread.
Trav. Is that all they did to you?
Land. No, they ordered us on board their vessel, and promised
us some black-strap.
Trav. "Mem. Pirates catch Yankees with a black-strap."
[Aloud] Did you accept the invitation?
Land. No, I guess we did n't. And so they threatened to
fire into us.
Trav. What did your captain do?
Land. "Fire, and be dammed!" says he, "but you'd better
not spill the deacon's ile, I tell you."
Trav. And so you ran off, did you?
Land. No; we sailed off a small piece. But the captain
said it was a tarnal shame to let them steal our necessaries; and
so he right about, and peppered them, I tell you.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees pepper pirates when they meet
them." [Aloud.] Did you take them?
Land. Yes, and my shear built this house.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees build houses with shears."
Land. It 's an ill wind that blows nowhere, as the saying is.
And now, may I make so bold as to ask whose name I shall
enter in my books?
Trav. Mine!
Land. Hem!--if it 's not an impertinent question, may I
ask which way you are travelling?
Trav. Home.
Land. Faith! have I not as good a right to catechize you,
as you had to catechize me?
Trav. Yes. "Mem. Yankees the most inquisitive people
in the world,--impertinent, and unwilling to communicate
information to travellers." [Aloud] Well, sir, if you have
accommodations fit for a gentleman, I will put up with you.
Land. They have always suited gentlemen, but I can't say
how you'll like 'em.
Trav. There is a tolerable prospect from this window. What
hill is that, yonder?
Land. Bunker Hill, sir.
Trav. Pretty hill! If I had my instruments here, I should
like to take it.
Land. You had better not try. It required three thousand
instruments to take it in '75.
Tram "Mem. A common Yankee hill cannot be drawn
without three thousand instruments." [Aloud] Faith, Landlord,
your Yankee draughtsmen must be great bunglers. But
come, sir, give me breakfast, for I must be going; There is nothing
else in the vicinity worthy the notice of a traveller.
Anon.
CCCLXXXIV.
THE EMBRYO LAWYER.
OLD FICKLE--TRISTAM FICKLE.
Old F. What reputation, what honor, what profit can
accrue to you from such conduct as yours? One moment
you tell me you are going to become the greatest musician
in the world, and straight you fill my house with fiddlers.
Tri. I am clear out of that scrape now, sir.
Old F. Then from a fiddler you are metamorphosed into a
philosopher; and for the noise of drums, trumpets, and hautboys,
you substitute a vile jargon, more unintelligible than was
ever heard at the tower of Babel.
Tri. You are right, sir, I have found out that philosophy is
folly; so, I have cut the philosophers of all sects, from Plato and
Aristotle down to the puzzlers of modern date.
Old F. How much had I to pay the cooper, the other day,
for barreling you up in a large tub, when you resolved to live
like Diogenes?
Tri. You should not have paid him anything, sir, for the tub
would not hold. You see the contents are run out.
Old F. No jesting, sir; this is no laughing matter. Your
follies have tired me out. I verily believe you have taken the
whole round of arts and science in a month, and have been of
fifty different minds in half an hour.
Tri. And, by that, shown the versatility of my genius.
Old F. Don't tell me of versatility, sir. Let me see a little
steadiness. You have never yet been constant to anything but
extravagance.
Tri. Yes, sir, one thing more.
Old F. What is that, sir.
Tri. Affection for you. However my head may have wandered,
my heart has always been constantly attached to the kindest
of parents; and, from this moment, I am resolved to lay my
follies aside, and pursue that line of conduct which will be most
pleasing to the best of fathers and of friends.
Old F. Well said, my boy,--well said! You make me
happy indeed. [patting him on the shoulder] Now, then, my
dear Tristram, let me know what you really mean to do.
Tri. To study the law.
Old F. The law!
Tri. I am most resolutely bent on following that profession.
Old F. No!
Tri. Absolutely and irrevocably fixed.
Old F. Better and better. I am overjoyed. Why, 't is the
very thing I wished. Now I am happy. [ Tristram makes gestures
as if speaking.] See how his mind is engaged!
Tri, Gentlemen of the jury,--
Old F. Why Tristram,--
Tri. This is a cause,--
Old F. O, my dear boy! I forgive you all your tricks. I
see something about you, now, that I can depend upon. [ Tristram
continues making gestures.]
Tri. I am for the plaintiff in this cause,--
Old F. Bravo! bravo! excellent boy! I'll go and order
your books directly.
Tri. It is done sir.
Old F. What, already!
Tri. I ordered twelve square feet of books when I first
thought of embracing the arduous profession of the law.
Old F. What, do you mean to read by the foot?
Tri. By the foot, sir; that is the only way to become a solid
lawyer.
Old F. Twelve square feet of learning! Well,--
Tri. I have likewise sent for a barber,
Old F. What, is he to teach you to shave close?
Tri. He is to shave one half of my head, sir.
Old F. You will excuse me if I cannot perfectly understand
what that has to do with the study of the law.
Tri. Did you never hear of Demosthenes, sir, the Athenian
orator? He had half his head shaved, and locked himself up in
a coal-cellar.
Old F. Ah! he was perfectly right to lock himself up after
having undergone such an operation as that. He certainly
would have made rather an odd figure abroad.
Tri. I think I see him now, awaking the dormant patriotism
of his countrymen,--lightning in his eye, and thunder in his
voice: he pours forth a torrent of eloquence, resistless in its
force--the throne of Philip trembles while he speaks; he denounces,
and indignation fills the bosom of his hearers; he
exposes the impending danger, and every one sees impending
ruin; he threatens the tyrant,--they grasp their swords; he
calls for vengeance, their thirsty weapons glitter in the air,
and thousands reverberate the cry. One soul animates the nation,
and that soul is the soul of the orator.
Old F. O! what a figure he'll make in the King's Bench!
But, come, I will tell you now what my plan is, and then you
will see how happily this determination of yours will further it.
You have [ Tristram makes extravagant gestures, as if speaking,]
often heard me speak of my friend Briefwit, the barrister,--
Tri. Who is against me in this cause?--
Old F. He is a most learned lawyer,--
Tri. But as I have justice on my side,--
Old F. Zounds! he does n't hear a word I say! Why,
Tristram!
Tri. I beg your pardon, sir, I was prosecuting my studies.
Old F. Now, attend,--
Tri. As my learned friend observes,--Go on, sir, I am all
attention.
Old F. Well, my friend the counselor,--
Tri. Say learned friend, if you please, sir. We gentlemen
of the law always,--
Old F. Well, well,--my learned friend,--
Tri. A black patch!
Old F. Will you listen, and be silent?
Tri. I am as mute as a judge.
Old F. My friend, I say, has a ward, who is very handsome,
and who has a very handsome fortune. She would make you
a charming wife.
Tri. This is an action,
Old F. Now, I have hitherto been afraid to introduce you
to my friend, the barrister, because I thought your lightness and
his gravity,--
Tri. Might be plaintiff and defendant.
Old F. But now you are growing serious and steady, and
have resolved to pursue his profession, I will shortly bring you
together; you will obtain his good opinion, and all the rest follows
of course.
Tri. A verdict in my favor.
Old F. You marry and sit down, happy for life.
Tri. In the King's Bench.
Old F. Bravo! Ha, ha, ha! But now run to your study,
--run to your study, my dear Tristram, and I'll go and call
upon the counsellor.
Tri. I remove by habeas corpus.
Old F. Pray have the goodness to make haste, then.
[Hurrying him off.]
Tri. Gentlemen of the jury this is a cause. [Exit.]
Old F. The inimitable boy! I am now the happiest father
living. What genius he has! He'll be Lord Chancellor one
day or other, I dare be sworn. I am sure he has talents! O!
how I long to see him at the bar!
Allingham.
NOTES.
Page No.
3. I. BROUGHAM, (broom,) HENRY, Lord, philosopher, law-reformer, statesman,
orator, and critic, was born in 1779, at Edinburgh, where he was educated
at the High School and University. He united with Jeffrey and Horner in
establishing the "Edinburgh Review," and for nearly twenty years he was one
of its most regular contributors. Having for a few years practised law at
the Scottish bar, he removed to England in 1807, and entered Parliament in
1810. His long parliamentary career has been characterized as one of
desultory warfare. "A great part of his life has been spent in beating
down; in detecting false pretensions whether in literature or politics; in
searching out the abuses of long-established institutions; in laying open
the perversions of public charities; in exposing the cruelties of the
criminal code; or in rousing public attention to a world of evils resulting
from the irregularities in the administration of municipal law." The
character of his eloquence is well suited to the purposes of an assailant.
"For fierce, vengeful, and irresistible assault," says John Foster,
"Brougham stands the foremost man in all the world." This extract is taken
from his Inaugural Discourse as Lord Rector of the university of Glasgow
delivered in 1825.