Of all the pleasant interludes in the drama of life, a sod party, where
every thing goes right, is one of the pleasantest. What talking! what
fuss! what discussions! what direfully important arrangements for a
week before-hand! what a puzzle how to divide the various necessaries
into such relatively fair proportions that no individual should feel
more burdened than another. I do not mean one of those parties where
all the trouble and expense fall upon one unfortunate individual, who,
consequently, can derive no pleasure from the affair, except that of
seeing others enjoying themselves--a very great pleasure, doubtless,
considered abstractedly, but rather too refined for every-day
mortals--no; but a regular pic-nic, where lots are drawn, and each
supplies whatever may be written on the slip that she or he holds, and
furnishes a quota of the trouble, as well as of the provisions; one
individual, nevertheless, being the director.
What a hurry-skurry on the morning of the eventful day! Then the
assembling of the carriages and other vehicles at the place of
rendezvous.
"Dear me," said Mrs Harvey, on the morning of the day appointed for her
pic-nic, having consulted her watch for the twentieth time; "dear me,
where is Mr Sharpe? What can possibly delay Mrs Molloy? Well, well, how
hard it is to get people to be punctual!"
"Oh, mamma, maybe they'll meet us at Howth; we had better set off. If
they come here, they can be directed to follow us, you know. Do, pray,
mamma, let us move."
"Oh, my dear, we must send a messenger to Mr Sharpe. If he missed us,
or took huff at our going without him (and you know he's very tetchy),
it would be such a dreadful inconvenience, for he has to supply the
knives and forks, spoons and glasses, and he would think nothing of
leaving us in the lurch, if he took it into his head; and Mrs Molloy
is so forgetful, that she might come without the roast beef, and never
think of it until it would be missed at table. George, dear, will you
desire John to step over to Mr Sharpe's, and tell him that the company
is assembled. And, Mr O'Brien, will you permit me to send your servant
to Mrs Molloy with a similar message?"
"Certainly, madam, with the greatest pleasure."
And now the little annoyances inseparable from all sublunary
enjoyments, begin.
"John has received a severe hurt, my dear. In packing some bottles, one
of them broke, and a piece of it has cut his wrist. I have sent him to
the apothecary's to get it dressed."
"Mercy on us! I hope he's not seriously injured. He won't be obliged to
stay at home surely?"
"I am afraid he must, my dear."
"If he does, every thing will go wrong, he is such a careful creature,
and so completely up to every thing on a sod party, and has every thing
so orderly and regular, and all without fuss or hurry. Oh, dear! we
shall be sadly off without him."
Mr Sharpe was announced, and a slight, small, dapper little personage
made his appearance. A physiognomist of the very least discernment
must at once have pronounced him to be a satirical, irritable, genuine
lover of mischief, for mischief's sake--mirthful after his own fashion,
and as merry as a grig upon a gridiron, when every face about him
should be drawn to a half yard in length by some unforeseen annoyance,
or petty disaster. He rubbed his hands, congratulating the ladies on
the fineness of the day. "Heavenly morning--fine road--Bay of Dublin
will be seen to such advantage--sea so smooth--coast of Wicklow
splendid--Killiney will look so bold"--talk--talk--talk; he stunned
every person with his extraordinary volubility.
Mr O'Brien's servant entered. "Please, ma'am, Mrs Molloy is coming."
Scarcely was the message delivered when the lady made her appearance.
"Oh, my dear Mrs Harvey, I hope I hav'nt kept you waiting long. I
totally forgot that this was the day appointed for your party, until
Sparks reminded me of it by calling me up."
"Make no apologies, my dear madam; we havn't waited at all. Mr Sharpe
has but just arrived, and our number is now complete. Have you every
thing packed?"
"Packed! Why, do you think we'll have rain?--had I better get my cloak
and umbrella? But, sure, I can go in your carriage, and as I shan't be
exposed on an outside car, I won't want them."
"My dear Mrs Molloy, it is the beef I allude to. Is it packed?"
"The beef! What beef?"
"Why, dear me, you surely havn't forgotten that a six-rib piece of
roast beef was to be supplied by you?"
"I--declare--I--never--once--thought--of it. Well, now, that's very
odd."
Mr Sharpe's countenance fell. The discovery had been made too timely to
please him.
"What's best to be done now? I can purchase beef somewhere as we go
along, and we'll get it dressed at Howth, in some cabin or another."
"Phwee--oo," whistled Mr Robert O'Gorman, "what the deuce would we do
with ourselves for five or six hours, at the least, that such a piece
would take to roast, without any thing to keep its back warm in an open
cabin? I'll tell you what, ma'am: give me the money, and I'll get as
much cold roast beef as you like, from Mulholland."
"Who is Mulholland?"
"Oh, 'tis no matter; I'll get the meat, if you want it."
"Very well, Mr O'Gorman, do so, and you'll oblige me; here is a guinea.
But why not tell who Mulholland is?"
Mr O'Gorman bolted, without making any reply.
Now, the fact of the matter was simply this, that Mulholland was a sort
of second-hand caterer, who purchased the meat that was sent unused
from the dining-hall of Trinity College, and supplied it again to such
students as felt too economically inclined to attend commons, and thus
save money from the parental allowances, for other, and better (?)
uses. To this class did Mr O'Gorman sometimes belong.
In a very short time he re-appeared.
"You were not long, Mr O'Gorman; did you succeed in getting a suitable
piece?"
"Suitable? If sixteen pounds will suit you, I have got that; and I gave
him the change of the guinea," addressing Mrs Molloy, "for himself,
ma'am, for his trouble in packing it, and the loan of the basket, which
of course he can't expect in reason ever to see again. Nobody would
bring home an empty basket."
"The change of the guinea for himself! Why, Mr O'Gorman, instead of
giving him more than he asked, you should have cut him down in his
price. The change of the guinea for himself! Oh! gracious! did anyone
ever hear of the like? Oh! dear me! the change for himself! Oh! dear!"
and in a gentle repetition or two, in an under-tone, Mrs Molloy's
surprise died away, like a retiring echo; for the bustle of departure
claimed all attention now.
It has been but too frequently remarked, that a party of pleasure is
seldom wholly unembittered by pain, and our party was doomed not to
be an exception to the rule; although the point had been mooted, and
the question discussed, at the first meeting (an evening party at Mrs
Harvey's), where the preliminaries were arranged, and it had been voted
unanimously that our party should be pleasant, and agreeable, and
happy, from the start to the return; and, further, that nothing should
go astray; and that if any person should be disagreeable, he or she
should be voted out; with fifty other resolutions, that the secretary
was unable to record, in consequence of the movers and seconders,
the president and audience, secretary and all, talking rapidly and
vehemently together, until order was suddenly restored by Mr O'Gorman
(who had the loudest voice, and the knack of making himself heard above
any uproar, acquired by a long and regular course of practice in the
upper gallery of Crow-street theatre) shouting out, "Order-r-r-r-r,
ladies and gentlemen, order-r-r-r-r! The rule of this society is,
that not more than six shall speak at a time; and I feel it to be my
duty, madam, to call upon you, for the sake of regularity, to preserve
this rule inviolate. This party of pleasure, madam, is to be a party
of pleasure unlike all the parties of pleasure that have gone before
it. Pleasure, madam, is to be the beginning, pleasure the middle, and
pleasure the end of it; and I shall conclude, madam, by saying, that I
have the pleasure of wishing that it may be so."
Mr O'Gorman unfortunately had not the celebrated wishing-cap on his
head at the time.
Mr, Mrs, and Miss Harvey, a maiden sister of Mr Harvey, Mrs Molloy,
Mr Sharpe, Mr O'Brien, his mother and three sisters, Mr O'Donnell and
his daughter, O'Gorman, Fitzgerald, Sweeny, Costello, and two or three
more College men, completed the muster roll of the party. The vehicles
consisted of Mr Harvey's and Mr O'Brien's carriages, Mr O'Donnell's
jaunting-car, an outside jarvey that O'Gorman, had brought, and Mr
Sharpe's gig.
Poor John's wrist had been so sadly hurt that he could not attend, and
the gentlemen gave every assurance to Mrs Harvey that he would not be
missed by her, they would make themselves so useful.
Every thing was at length announced to be ready. A basket, covered
with oiled silk, swinging conspicuously from the axle-tree of the gig,
rendered it unnecessary to ask Mr Sharpe if he had all the requisites
prepared; and Mrs Harvey, having cast the last scrutinizing glance
around, gave the long-wished-for word to "take places."
Now, all this time there were four hearts bent upon one object, and
four heads at work planning how to attain it. The youngest of the
Misses O'Brien was the sprightliest girl of the party; and although
Miss O'Donnell might dispute the prize for beauty with her, the former
was the most admired by the young men upon the present occasion, and
Messrs O'Gorman, Fitzgerald, Sweeny, and Costello, had each resolved to
attach himself to her, if possible.
The first mentioned, who was a general favourite, had contrived most
successfully to keep near her during breakfast, and pretty nearly to
engross her attention during the subsequent time that had elapsed
previously to the discovery of Mrs Molloy's forgetfulness, by telling
her tales of College life, and adventures replete with wonders, that
might have caused the renowned Sinbad the sailor himself, or the
equally celebrated Baron Munchausen, to stare, and bite the bitter nail
of envy, while they could not withhold their meed of applause from one
who was their master at the marvellous, and could give them lessons in
the sublime art of invention.
It was Bob's anxiety to get on the road that made him tender his
services in the supplying of the beef; and the certainty that he had
completely ingratiated himself with the young lady, by his stories,
at which she had laughed most heartily, made him feel very little
uneasiness at the prospect of a few minutes' separation, especially
when she knew that he had only absented himself for the purpose of
expediting the arrangements that were to give him an opportunity of
catering for her amusement for the remainder of the day. When he
returned, and saw her surrounded by the other three, he resolved to
let them go on quietly, and trusted to snatch her from them by some
stratagem, just at the last moment.
Now, it must be confessed that Miss Kate would have much preferred the
rattling, noisy, lying, merry, mischievous scamp, as her companion, to
any other, because she loved laughing, and he supplied her plentifully
with food for mirth; and she was very well inclined, and quite resolved
within herself, to second any bold attempt that he might make to rescue
her from the trio by which she was surrounded. Great was her chagrin to
see that he took no manner of trouble about the matter, but apparently
occupied himself with the elder Miss Harvey. What a taste he must have!
thought she, to attach himself to the old maid of the party; and it was
with something of pettishness that she stood, or rather jumped up, when
the order to move was given. Her glove fell. Fitzgerald and Costello
stooped, or rather dashed themselves down from opposite sides at the
same instant to secure the prize; their heads came in contact, with
a crash resembling that caused by two cracked pitchers being jolted
together, and so loud as to astonish the hearers; and they recoiled
from the collision into a sitting posture, one under the table, and the
other under the piano.
When Xantippe, the wife of that great philosopher Socrates, had failed
in her efforts to vex him by abuse, her last resource was to break some
article of crockery upon his head: it is recorded that he coolly wiped
his face, which had been deluged by the contents, merely saying, "After
thunder comes rain." Now, I'd be bound that if we could ascertain
what Socrates said to himself at the time, we should find that for
all his smooth face and soft words he inwardly took some desperate
liberties with the heathen deities, and pitched Xantippe, crockery,
and all the makers of it, to Pluto, and all the infernal gods, in a
hurry. However, he kept his countenance, which is more than can be said
of Frank Costello, or Dick Fitzgerald, or of Mr Sharpe, who nearly
went into convulsions with laughter; indeed, to do him justice, his
was not the only laughter, for no one could resist the excitement to
risibility contained in the picture before them. At the first moment
each of the gentlemen had uttered a loud exclamation savouring strongly
of impiety; then, immediately recollecting the presence of ladies,
they muttered what might have been supposed by the charitable to be
half-suppressed prayers, but that their countenances were strangely
discordant with pious thoughts, for each with his hand on his head, his
teeth set, his lips apart and tightly drawn, and his eyes glaring with
pain and vexation, sat looking, or rather grinning, like a hyena, at
the other. That keen sense of the ridiculous which always comes upon
us so inopportunely, made them at length get up, and the condolences
offered on all sides, in the most tender inflections of voice, but with
countenances which but too plainly showed how great was the effort
to suppress laughter, excited their anger against one another most
terribly; nor was it likely to be the more readily allayed by seeing
Dan Sweeny walking off with the prize, the contention for which had
caused their misfortune. It was with difficulty they could be kept from
fighting. Leaving them to settle the matter as they pleased, Sweeny
conducted the lady to her carriage, close to which a new scene awaited
them.
On the step of the hackney jaunting-car sat O'Gorman, with his left
foot upon his right knee, alternately rubbing his shin very gently,
and hugging the leg as if it was a baby, groaning, and screwing
his face into the most hideous grimaces. After the scene they had
just witnessed, this was irresistible, and Miss Kate laughed long
and heartily. Bob looked at her, made a more hideous grimace than
before, groaned, rubbed more violently, and then giving himself a most
ludicrous twist, grinned, rubbed, and groaned again.
"Why--ha-ha-ha!--Mr O'Gorman, what ha-ha-ha!--has happened you?"
"Oh! ah! oh! may the d---- I beg your pardon. But, oh! hif! to
the--och, I mean bad luck to all wood and iron! Hif! oh! I attempted
to jump up on this rascally step, when my foot slipped off, and down I
came, scraping all the skin off my shin bone. Oh! bad luck to it--to
the step, I mean."
The manner in which he said this, made all who heard him laugh more,
but he did not seem to be in the least degree disconcerted; and as to
being angry, there was not a trace of it on his countenance.
Sweeny, who prided himself upon being quite a ladies' man, and who was
just then immensely elated at having distanced all his competitors,
but especially O'Gorman, whose retirement from the competition he
considered to be a tacit acknowledgment of inferiority, offered a
jesting sort of condolence to him, and recommended him strongly to
rub the injured part with vinegar, or whisky, or salt and water; it
might smart a little at first, to be sure, and make him grin and roar
somewhat, but it would be well in no time! But in the midst of his
badinage, Miss O'Brien missed her parasol, and he was obliged to run
back to the drawing-room to look for it.
As soon as he had disappeared within the hall door. O'Gorman sprang
to his feet, and, drawing the parasol from the breast of his coat,
tendered it, and his arm, to the young lady, saying, with the greatest
exultation, "Hoaxed, by jingo! alas! poor Sweeny. Come, Miss Kate, your
brother is so taken up with Miss O'Donnell, that he can't attend to any
thing, or any body. Never mind your mother; she can't bawl out at us,
you know; and if she attempted to scold, she'd be voted out. I've got
Sharpe's gig--come, jump up, and we'll have such a day! Oh! but havn't
I done them all brown! Hurrah for Howth, and the sky over it! Oh!
you little darling," added he, restraining himself with considerable
difficulty from giving her a hug and a kiss, as she laughingly complied
with his invitation, and seated herself with him in the gig, just as
Sweeny returned, protesting himself unable to find the parasol, "oh,
it got tired waiting for you, and came of itself. But I say, Sweeny,
capital receipt that of yours for sore shins; quite cured mine in a
moment--first application. Hollo! here, you will probably want a pocket
handkerchief during the day; I'll lend you one;" and Bob threw him his
own. "I picked his pocket in the drawing-room," said he, turning to
his delighted companion; "I was determined that he should go back for
something; and here's yours, which I secured also. Now, then, if we
follow those rumbling machines, we shall be smothered with dust, so we
had better show them the way." Chick, chick--and poor Mrs O'Brien could
scarcely believe her eyes when she saw her daughter whirl past her in a
gig with one of the most incorrigible scapegraces in the University.
He took good care that they should not be recalled, for he was out
of sight in a twinkling; nor did the party get a view of him again
until they had passed Clontarf, when they found him walking the horse
quietly, in order that they might over-take him.
But I must postpone detailing the subsequent events of that memorable
day until the next number, having already occupied more than my share
of space.