[Illustration: M]My aunt, Mrs. Cheeseman, is the very reverse of her
husband. He is a plain, honest creature, such as we read of in full-length
descriptions by some folks, but equally comprehensive, though shortly done
by others, under the simple name of John Bull--as ungarnished in his
dress, as in his speech and action; whereas Mrs. Cheeseman, as I have just
told you, is the counterpart of plainness; she has trinkets out of number,
brooches, backed with every kind of hair, from "the flaxen-headed cow-boy"
to the deep-toned "Jim Crow." Then her rings--they _are_ the surprise of
her staring acquaintances; she has them from the most delicate Oriental
fabric to the massiveness of dog's collars.
Uncle Cheeseman says Mrs. C. thinks of nothing else; no sporting
gentleman, handsomely furnished, in the golden days of pugilism, ever
looked upon a ring with more delightful emotions. At going to bed, she
bestows the same affectionate gaze upon them that mothers do upon their
slumbering progeny; nor is that care and affection diminished in the
morning: her very imagination is a ring, seeing that it has neither
beginning nor end--her tender ideas are encircled by the four magical
letters R--I--N--G. Even at church, we are told, she divides her time
between sleeping and secret polishing. It has just occurred to me, that I
might have saved you and myself much trouble had I at once told you that
aunt Cheeseman is a regular _Ring-worm_.
But, to my uncle--the only finery sported by him (and I hardly think it
deserving that word), besides a silver watch, sound and true as the owner,
and the very prototype of his bulk and serenity, was a gold snuff-box, a
large and handsome one, which he did not esteem for its intrinsic weight;
he had a "lusty pride" in showing that it was a prize gained in some
skilful agricultural contest. I am sorry at not recollecting what was
engraven on it; but being a thorough Cockney, and knowing nothing more of
the plough and harrow than that I have somewhere observed it as a tavern
sign, must plead for my ignorance in out-o'-town matters.
You can remember, no doubt, the day the Queen went to dine with the City
Nabobs at Guildhall. Cheeseman hurried impatiently to London for the sole
purpose of _seeing_ the sight, and upon finding my liking for the
spectacle as powerful as his own, declared I was the only sensible child
my mother ever had, and adding that as he was well able to push his way
through a Lunnon crowd, if my father and mother were willing, under his
protection I should see this grand affair. Not the slightest objection was
put in opposition to my uncle's proposal, consequently the next day,
November the 9th, 1837, uncle Cheeseman and I formed integral portions of
the huge mass of spectators which reached from St. James's to the City.
After slipping off the pavement a score of times (and in some instances
opportunely enough to be shoulder-grazed by a passing coach-wheel),
stunning numberless persons by explosions of oaths for clumsy collisions
and unintentional performances upon his tenderest corn, we reached the
corner of St. Paul's churchyard.
Having secured by a two-shilling bargain about three feet of a form,
which, I suppose, upon any other day than a general holiday like the
present was the _locus in quo_ for little dears whose young ideas were
taught to shoot at threepence a week, uncle took breath, and a pinch of
snuff together: he smiled as I observed, that he'd be sure to take a
refresher when her Majesty passed; and though he shook his head and
designated me a sly young rogue, I could clearly perceive that he was
plotting to perform, as if by chance, what I had predicated as a
certainty; and although nineteen persons out of twenty would have marked
(in this instance) his puerility, I doubt not but that the same number are
(at some periods of their existence) innocent victims to the like
weakness, whether it be generated in a snuff-box or a royal diploma.
By-and-by, a murmur from the distance, which succeeded a restless motion
among the crowd (like a leafy agitation of trees coming as a kind of
_courier en avant_ to announce the regular hurricane), broke gradually,
and at last uproariously upon us; straining our necks and eyes in the
attractive direction. Uncle grasped me by the arm, and though he spoke not
a word, he fairly stared, "Here it comes." Now the thick tide of the
moving portion of the spectators began to sweep past us, as they hedged in
the soldiery and carriages; then came the shouting, accompanied by various
kinds of squeezing, tearing, and stumbling; some screaming compliments to
her Majesty, and in the same breath dispensing more violent compliments in
an opposite direction, and of a decidedly different tendency. Shoes were
trodden off, and bonnets crushed out of all fashion; coats were curtailed;
samples of their quality were either seen dangling at the heels of the
wearer, or were ignominiously trodden under foot; and many superfine
Saxony trousers were double-milled without mercy.
Whilst we were pluming ourselves upon the snugness of our situations, and
the attendant good fortune of being easy partners in the business of the
day, and thus freed from the vexations and perplexities so largely
distributed in our view, I was hindered from communicating my happiness
upon these points, for at this moment down went my uncle Cheeseman, and as
suddenly up flew his arms above his head, like Boatswain Smith at the
height of exhortation on Tower Hill. I was surprised, and so appeared my
unfortunate relation, who superadded an additional mixture of indignation
as I caught a glimpse or two of his chameleon-like visage; for at the first
sight I could have most honestly sworn it to have been white--at the
second as crimson as the sudden consciousness of helpless injury could
make it. Nevertheless, he sailed away from me in this extraordinary
attitude for a short distance, when suddenly, as he lowered his arms, I
observed sundry hands descend quickly, and, as I thought, kindly, lest he
should lose his hat, upon the crown of it, until it encased more of his
head than could be deemed either fashionable or comfortable. Presently,
however, he was again seen viciously elbowing and writhing his way back to
me, which after immense exertions he performed, in the full receipt of
numerous anathemas and jocular insults. As he neared me, I inquired what
he had been doing; why he had left me for such a short, difficult, and
unprofitable journey--which queries, innocently playful as they were,
appeared to produce a choking sensation, accompanied by a full-length
stare at me; but his naturally kind heart was not kept long closed against
me, and I gleaned the melancholy fact from his indignation, which was
continually emitted in such short gusts as, "The villains"--"The
scoundrels"--"And done so suddenly"--"The only thing I prized,"--"Well,
this is a lesson for me." As we returned home, uncle displayed a wish to
thrust himself everywhere into the densest mass; there was a morbid
carelessness in his manner that he had hitherto never shown; he was
evidently another man, a fallen creature; his pride, his existence, the
very theme of all his joys, his gold snuff-box, had departed for ever, and
his heart was in that box: what would Mrs. Cheeseman say? He had been
cleaned out to the very letter--ay, that letter--it perhaps contained
matters of moment.
I have since that affair upon several occasions heard the poor fellow
declare that much as he was heart-broken at the loss of his box, his
feelings were lacerated to a greater degree when, in a curtain lecture, my
staid, correct, frosty-hearted, jewel-hugging aunt said, "Cheeseman, it
was a judgment for such conduct to a wife. In that letter, which you
treated with such contumely, I strictly cautioned you not to take that
valuable box about with you, if your madness for sight-seeing should lead
you into a mob. Let this be a warning to you; and be sure that though
woman be the weaker vessel, she is oftentimes the deepest." We believe it.
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