We now jogged sociably on, calling at several cottages to distribute
some of my uncle’s mites, surveyed the beauties of the surrounding
country, and returned home to dinner, well satisfied with our ride;
after which my uncle took a short nap to recover the fatigue of his
morning jolt, and I amused myself by looking over the library, where
I found the highest amusement, till he finished his snore; at which
time we retired to make some necessary alteration in our habiliments,
and, at six o’clock, set off for our visit to Mr. Macfriz, who
received us very politely, and, like Dr. Tonic, introduced us,
in the same form, to a room full of company and pictures; for the
wainscot was so bedizened with the latter, that I could almost have
supposed myself at the Royal Academy.
The first lady to whom we were introduced was Mrs. Macfriz, a most
diminutive, ill-built woman; who, when she rose from her chair,
appeared to fall upon her knees: her features were extremely plain,
and her complexion almost a woman of colour; her dress antiquely
grotesque, and her toute ensemble disgusting in the extreme.
Having gone through the ceremony of bowing and courtesying, we
were introduced to the rest, in the following order:--Mr. and Mrs.
Dashwell, Mr. and Mrs. Downright, Mr. Earwig, Mr. Undermine, Mr.
Simon Undermine, and Mr. Consequence.
“You’re late, gentlemen,” observed Mr. Macfriz, drawing his watch;
“it wants but a quarter to seven.”
“You are incorrect, Sir,” replied Mr. Dashwell, looking at his
repeater; which example was followed by every watch in the room: but
none cut so great a dash as Mr. Simon Undermine’s, decorated with
three immense large seals, suspended by a flashy chain, which he sat
rattling in his hand, like a baby with its coral.
“Yes, indeed, I’m glad the gentlemen are come,” said Mrs. Downright,
an elderly woman, the epitome of vulgarity; “for I’m almost starved:
I uses myself so to drink tea at five o’clock, that I’m like our
black cat--I always looks for it, as the saying is.”
No person made any answer; and Mrs. Macfriz rung the bell, which
produced two such high-piled plates of muffins and crumpets as might
have victualled a small regiment; and Miss Macfriz was placed at the
tea equipage to do the honours, to which her mama seemed incompetent.
A fine Dutch piece, by Teniers, having attracted my notice, I could
not help giving praise to the genius of that charming artist.
“Yes, Sir, it’s a beautiful _thing_,” answered Mrs. Macfriz; “and I
haven’t had a little trouble to _clean_ them all: this morning I was
three hours mucking over them; for, being a _valuable_ collection, I
never suffers nobody to do nothing to them but myself.”
“That’s right,” cried Mrs. Downright: “you’re like me, as I
say to my chuck, and there he sits--there’s nothing like doing
things one’s-self: I’m sure I’d more plague and mess with the
_chimbley_-sweeps this morning than enough.”
“And what weather we had for our _great wash_ last week,” interrupted
the lady of the house.
“Well,” said Mrs. Dashwell, “those are things I never trouble my head
about; my constitution is too _delicate_ to permit my attendance to
household concerns.”
“It’s lucky you’ve no _call_ to do it,” replied Mrs. Downright:
“but I likes it; I loves to be notable; not as I’ve any occasion,
as the saying is; for _chuck_ and I don’t want for _stuff_. We have
worked hard; both pulled the same way, and _scrope_ up a good bag of
sweepings for our little darling, Jenny. We ben’t _musherroons_! No,
no! We can buy our girl a husband any day. Can’t we, _chuck_?”
Chuck grinned, and, distending his wide snub from cheek to cheek,
gave lovey a nod of approbation, and sat twirling his thumbs, as
dumb as an effigy: and the ladies having finished their _notable_
conversation, Mr. Consequence began to expatiate on the various
topics of politics; amongst which, arguments strongly enforced,
and as strongly defended, the subject of city concerns took its
rotation; on which he declaimed with great vehemence, supported
by his neighbour, Mr. Undermine, who had been _mole-working_ for
his friend, Mr. Penslow, on the late common-council election, by
_ousting_ what he termed the _old_ and _useless_ members, such as
had grown grey in the service of their constituents, expended their
property in support of the rights of the situation, without deriving
_one penny emolument_, and then receiving for their pains the base
ingratitude of being denominated _deaf_, _blind_, or _superannuated_,
which rendered them _ineligible_, according to the _new system_, and
erased names from the _honourable_ list that would have honoured a
much superior.
As the controversy increased, the gentlemen grew warm; Mr.
Consequence declaring, it was highly proper to elect new, young, and
able members. “I headed the business in our parish last St. Thomas’s
day,” cried Mr. Consequence, “and ousted an old _deaf_ member,
who was laid on a sick bed, and, therefore, totally incapable of
attending his precinct.”
“Poor man!” said the humane Mrs. Downright, who possessed an
excellent heart, which exhibited its virtues on many laudable
occasions. “I think, Sir, _axing_ your pardon, you broke your ninth
commandment most completely; for it was a very cruel action to a sick
neighbour, if he was an honest member of society. My chuck wouldn’t
have _ficiated_ in such a piece of treachery for the world: he’d have
been ashamed of it.”
“Oh dear! there’s no shame in the case,” observed Mr. Undermine.
“My friend Penslow was a much more eligible man; and, therefore,
we persevered, night and day, in our canvass, and succeeded to a
miracle, compelling him to retire with _blighted_ laurels, because
he would not resign, consonant to my friend Consequence’s _positive
requisition_...”
“Pardon me! pardon me!” exclaimed Mr. Dashwell; “Mr. Penslow’s were
the _blighted_ laurels, torn from the pillowed brow of a worthy
veteran to adorn his own, where they must fade, _unenvied_ and
_unrespected_, as the emblems of corrupt _subtlety_; for I do hold it
an unprecedented piece of _iniquity_ and _mean_ cowardice to attack
an individual, merely because he is _defenceless_, owing to the
affliction of Providence. For my part, I’m a common-councilman-maker;
but I voted for no “jacks in office!”--not I.”
“_Jacks in office!_” retorted Mr. Undermine, glancing an important
look at his son Simon. “I hope, Sir, you don’t mean to insinuate,
that _I_ am a jack in office!”
“I did not make any such pertinent allusion, Sir,” replied Mr.
Dashwell: “for, in fact, till you have brought it to my recollection,
I had forgot your late lucrative _agency_; which, to be sure, in the
literal sense of the word, is a _government dependence_, and thereby
renders your situation _official_; which, if I am not mistaken, I
have heard disputed, as a point of _ineligibility_--hey! What say
you, Mr. Earwig?”
Mr. Undermine, who had thus undesignedly knotted a lash for his back,
because conviction popped the cap on his head, knitted his scowling
brow, and, dropping his long chin an inch longer, while it quivered
with passion, observed, “that any man who troubled his head with the
concerns of another, in which he had no business to interfere, was an
ignorant, impertinent fellow, who deserved proper correction.”
“That’s precisely my opinion,” replied Mr. Dashwell; “for, I am well
persuaded, one-half of your _city meddlers_ had better attend to
their counting-houses, than squabble away the precious hours that
ought to be devoted to business.”
“No doubt! no doubt!” cried Mr. Earwig; who, like his insect brother,
always creeps into the best situation, and never crawls into a
crab-apple while he can glide into a pine--whispers _impracticable
promises_ into your ear, and slides his hand into your _convenient
pocket_, with the same effrontery that he introduces himself to every
great table; where, perching himself as near the president as an
eminent stock of assurance will permit, he seizes his button, which
he never relinquishes till fumigated with the effluvia of his snuff;
and, bored with his ceaseless half-articulate Champaigne jargon,
the disgusted auditor releases his _imprisoned_ button, and resigns
his uncomfortable seat to the vice, leaving Mr. Earwig to buz his
nonsense to some idle listener. Thus Mr. Earwig lives _cheap_, boasts
innumerable invitations, _listens_ to the _commoner_, _sides_ with
the _lord_, and loves all _great folks_ and _great feasts_--considers
himself occasional _king_ of the _Rose in June_ and the _Canterbury
Mail_, in which he makes frequent convenient excursions, when the
_spice_ business does not require his attendance in London; and,
being now on a visit in this village, chance jumbled us together.
This intelligence I gained, in a whisper, from my uncle, who had
known him many years.
“I assure you,” whispered Simon Undermine to Mr. Macfriz, “father
and I took a deal of pains to get in Mr. Penslow; which we never
should have done, if the old member hadn’t been too close confined
with the gout to hobble round the ward; or else it would all have
been _dickey_; because he was a _favourite_ inhabitant, who had
been _bred_, _born_, and _patronised_, as member of the court, near
_thirty_ years. Egad! we’d tight work of it.”
“I don’t wonder at that; I never heard of such a thing in my life,”
said Mr. Downright, lifting up his hands and eyes. “But I hope the
cruel disappointment didn’t kill the poor gentleman: I heartily hope
he’s recovered.”
“Oh, yes!” answered Mr. Consequence: “I’ve met him twice since,
when I least wished it; and I hear he treats the matter with great
contempt.”
“Then, I say, he’s a cock of the game!” vociferated Mrs. Downright;
“and I’ll bet a _farden_ he could put half his parish into his
pocket; aye, buy ’em, out and out! A rich man has always more
enemies than a poor one.”
“Poh!” cried Mr. Undermine: “property’s nothing to do with the
common-council.”
“Egad! I believe you,” answered Mrs. Downright: “any thing does
now-a-days, if they can but _kick up a bother_. Lord bless you! they
all _squeedges_ in, in hopes of getting the loaves and fishes that’s
given away, except my chuck; and everybody knows he wants nothing
of nobody. They can’t say, when he was churchwarden, that he ever
flashed away with parish property, as _many folks do_.”
Here Mrs. Downright drew up her head, dragged her pearl satin gown
two inches higher into her lap, and took a good bonny mouthful of
butter-soaked muffin, desiring her husband to do the same, after
spreading his silk handkerchief over his black sattins, which, she
boasted, were her _own making_.
This caused a smile from some, a titter from Miss Macfriz, and a
_grin simple_ from Mr. Simon Undermine, whose cassimeres looked, by
their dimension, as if he had borrowed them of Messrs. Gog and Magog
at Guildhall, where Simon dearly loved to wedge himself in, along
with his _par_, every Lord-Mayor’s day, to a good dinner and dance
with the girls; for, being now a man grown, he was occasionally his
walking-stick or coachman; with an excellent family character, as a
very _nice_ young man, possessing all his father’s virtues, and in
a fair train to obtain a wife, whenever he can meet with _plenty_
of _money_; as none other need apply for that preference, who could
not bring at least five thousand; and that’s barely sufficient to
help supporting six o’clock dinners, a two-wheeled basket, and a
four-legged factotum.
Tea being over, the card-tables were adjusted, consisting of two
whist, a speculation game, and a backgammon party, which created as
much racket as the Stock Exchange, and highly perplexed Mr. Earwig
and Mr. Dashwell: add to which, Mrs. Downright, who was on the losing
game, kept repeatedly declaring she hadn’t got a _play-first_, could
turn up nothing but the _d--’s bedstead_, shuffled nothing but
rubbish and _Yorkshiremen_ into her hand, and should not win above
two tricks; and, whenever her husband hesitated, “Don’t be afraid;
_clap a piece of butter_ on it, my chuck!”
Mr. Consequence and Mr. Undermine both played extremely
unsuccessful, and thereby irritated their sour tempers; particularly
that of Mr. Consequence, who had been all his life a member of the
Snap and Snarl Club; for, though all the parish were compelled to
bow to his decree, as its primary deputed guide and _guardian_, his
sullen, morose, and disobliging temper rendered him much more an
object of disgust than admiration.