(_By "Hansom Jack."_)
No. V.--"GOING DOWN"--THE RACES--UPS AND DOWNS.
"_Going down?_" Not this year. Bin laid up with the Flu, like my
betters, and still feel a little bit squiffy,
But when I _am_ fit and 'ave just arf a charnce of a run down to
Epsom, I'm on in a jiffy.
Lor! 'ow many times 'ave I druv to the Derby, in all sorts o' cumpny,
'igh, low, and jest mejum;
And seen some queer games, too! Well, say wot yer like, it's a
'oliday bust, and it breaks the year's tejum.
Tejum's the doose, if you arsk me; and dulness does hoceans more
'arm than the pious ones reckon.
It's jest when mernotony gives yer the 'ump that you're open to any
bad biz as may beckon.
Grey flatting constant will set you a longing to paint the town red,
jest by way o' variety;
Leastways, it's so with a Cabby, _I_ know, and no doubt it's the same
in more toppin' Socierty.
Ah! I remember old Kennington toll-gate afore 'twos removed Oh! the
jams and the crushes!
Once tooled down a fine F. O. clerk, young and smart, with the pootiest
parcel o' blue silk and blushes,
'Amper O. K., Larrynargers _had libbitum_, fizz up to Dick, and a
somethink _poetic_,
Like laylocks, laburnums and mayblossom in it, as made me--a mere nipper
then--symperthetic.
To see 'im a whisking the dust from 'er bonnet, arf tender, arf sorcy,
an' 'er a-purtending,
To bridle up proud and becoming, was pooty. Whose money, thought I, my
young nabs are _you_ spending.
'E parted like water, and backed 'em a buster; and blowed if _I_
shouldn't with them heyes upon me.
Dunno if _'e_ spotted a winner. _I_ didn't! But 'ow they enjoyed it!
'Er smile reglar won me.
When young 'uns is sweet 'uns, and sweet 'uns high-bred 'uns, it fetches
me, somehow, to see 'em philander,
They do it so dainty, an' sorter respekful. BILL BOGER, 'e says I'm a
cackling old gander.
All right, bilious BILLY! You've druv lovey-doveys of all sorts and ranks
till you're verjuice an' sorrel,
But these weren't no Monday Bank 'Oliday Mashers, or shop-sweet-hearts
out on the scoop, _that's_ a moral.
Well, close to the Stand a old heagle-beaked buffer was doing the nice
to a dragful of toppers,
And one 'awk-nosed duchess, as yaller as mustard, with hoptics
suggestive of bile or 'ot coppers,
Dropped lamps on _our_ little turn-out. Oh, Jemimer! I'm sure red-'ot
needles was simply not in it,
A savage old Pater, a jealous Miss GOLDBAGS, and--hus! Oh! I twigged
the whole game in a minnit.
Quite spiled my smart cab as a dove-cote that day. Druv 'ome rather
late, and a trifle less cheerful,
Him wondrous perlite, but,--well, wandering-eyed, an' 'er with the
least little touch of the tearful.
For me, I'd the 'ump, though 'e paid like a prince. Didn't see them
again not till twenty year after;
And then--well it gave me the doldrums somehow, though BILL BOGER
declared that it moved _'im_ to laughter.
_'E_ druv me and BILL to the Derby! We'd clubbed for a friendly drag
down, BILL an' me, and some others,
And poor young F. O. was our whip! 'E'd gone badgery slightly, along
not of years but of bothers.
_I_ knew _'im_ at once, and I think 'e twigged _me_; but 'e made ne'er
a sign, only looked grave and civil.
And when BILLY stood 'im a drink, 'e bowed low, just to 'ide what I
guess was a flash o' the devil.
I never let on, but addressed 'im respekful, and jest touched my 'at
when we parted. Says BILLY,
"You're mighty perlite on the suddent, young Snapshotter!" Well, I may
be sentimental or silly,
But _I_ often spekylate 'ow them two fare, and if I'll ever see them
again; if they're married.
I've tooled lots o' pairs to the Derby since then, and I tell you some
curious couples I've carried.
A brace o' young Sheenies as slep all the way, a' Eathen Chinee with
a helderly lydy
Distributin' tracks; two hevangelist singers, as plump as JEM SMITH,
and as black as _Man Friday_;
But if I possessed this 'ere _clarevoyong_ power I'd try it upon
_Cremorne's_ year and _that_ couple.
Wich makes BILLY say I'm as young as I was then, at 'art--though I
mayn't be so nimble and supple.
* * * * *