The supper is going on behind the screen. There is no need to draw
the supper. We all know that sort of transaction: the squabbling, and
gobbling, and popping of champagne; the smell of musk and lobster-salad;
the dowagers chumping away at plates of raised pie; the young lassies
nibbling at little titbits, which the dexterous young gentlemen procure.
Three large men, like doctors of divinity, wait behind the table, and
furnish everything that appetite can ask for. I never, for my part, can
eat any supper for wondering at those men. I believe if you were to
ask them for mashed turnips, or a slice of crocodile, those astonishing
people would serve you. What a contempt they must have for the guttling
crowd to whom they minister--those solemn pastry-cook's men! How they
must hate jellies, and game-pies, and champagne, in their hearts! How
they must scorn my poor friend Grundsell behind the screen, who is
sucking at a bottle!
This disguised green-grocer is a very well-known character in the
neighborhood of Pocklington Square. He waits at the parties of the
gentry in the neighborhood, and though, of course, despised in families
where a footman is kept, is a person of much importance in female
establishments.
Miss Jonas always employs him at her parties, and says to her page,
"Vincent, send the butler, or send Desborough to me;" by which name she
chooses to designate G. G.
When the Miss Frumps have post-horses to their carriage, and pay visits,
Grundsell always goes behind. Those ladies have the greatest confidence
in him, have been godmothers to fourteen of his children, and leave
their house in his charge when they go to Bognor for the summer. He
attended those ladies when they were presented at the last drawing-room
of her Majesty Queen Charlotte.