It now wanted but three days to Mrs. Fungus’s fete champetre, to which
the Markwell family had received individual cards of invitation; but
as it was a species of amusement dissonant to the principles of Dr.
Markwell, and not agreeable to his wife, it was agreed Rosa should
return an excuse, to elude suspicion, and go _incog_, under the
protection of my uncle and self; but what character to assume was the
puzzle, for either as ballad-singer, or minstrel, she would instantly
be discovered; it was therefore agreed, after much discussion, she and
my uncle should go as “Sterne and Maria,” precisely habited in costume,
whilst I dressed in Alice’s old clothes, determined to enjoy a little
sport as an old gypsey fortune-teller, my uncle having promised to
furnish me with a private tablet of the dresses of each parties I most
wished to torment, which by going half an hour previous to my entrance,
and enclosing the list in a small purse, as a reward for my occult
abilities, would have it amply in his power to accomplish; and further
to carry on the joke, I proposed sending to London for _false noses_,
to wear during supper.
This was a scheme highly approved by my uncle; Rosa and Mrs. Markwell
undertook the superintendance of my habiliment, and her own, while the
Rector furnished my uncle with a bushy white wig, cocked hat, and cane,
which was all the character required, subjoined to a black suit.
On the evening preceding the fete, while Alice and the house-keeper
were patching and gypsyeizing a ragged gown and petticoat, to render
me appropriate, in bounced Dr. Tonic, red hot with village news of
the intended characters he had been able to collect, a piece of
intelligence very acceptable to me.
“So,” cried he, “the whole village is in a bustle; I understand there
won’t be an unmasked face at the supper, except the hostess, and her
daughter; it’s a d--d good plan; we shall have rare fun, my girls are
half mad--Mrs. Tonic goes as a _blind woman_, and my son Bob’s wife is
to lead her as a beggar-girl--Elizetta a _ballad-singer_--Georgiana a
_flower-girl_--Bob, as a noisy _watchman_, for it’s easy enough to cry
the hour.”
“Yes,” replied my uncle, “he can’t have any great task in doing that.”
“Why, you know, squire,” rejoined the Doctor, “we country Puts
don’t understand masquerading like you Londoners; we have therefore
but little inclination to expose our deficiencies on the score of
witticism: for my part, I have not fixed upon any character yet--how do
you mean to go?”
“Perhaps as Dr. Slop,” answered my uncle.
“Egad!” exclaimed Tonic, “that character will exactly suit me--I’ll
go home and study it directly--it’s the very thing--but have you
heard of Lady Lustre’s intention? she means to go as _Charity_, with
Dame Margery’s three little brats, on a plan of beneficence; she’s
a wonderful strange woman; then, again, let me consider; I can tell
you half the characters in the parish; Major Pea-Chick goes as a
_sultan_; Mrs. Deposit, a _sultana_; Lady Flam, a _virgin of the sun_;
Mrs. Macfriz, a _chair-woman_; Mr. Windfall, a _sweep_; Mr. Prolix,
the _devil on two sticks_; his wife, a _quaker_; Mr. Deposit, an _old
clothes man_; Mr. Faddle, a _tiddy-dol_, with hot plumb-pudding; widow
Quiz, a _cabbage-woman_; Mr. Undermine, a mole-skin dress; and, his son
Simon, a _Patagonian_ goose; Mr. Consequence, a _common-councilman_;
Mrs. Coniac, a _bar-maid_; Mr. Coniac, _Jerry Sneak_; Mrs. Downright,
a _landlady_; Mr. Strut, two faces under one hat, and his coat turned
wrongside outwards; Mr. Downright, an _old woman_; Mrs. Wau-Wau, a
_house-maid_, with mop and pail; Miss Bleary, a _lady doll-snip_;
Mrs. Henpeck, in male attire, as a _slave driver_ with her husband in
chains; Mrs. Dashwell, as _nobody_; Mr. Dashwell, as a _dust-man_.”
“Are you correct in your information?” asked my uncle.
“O yes, perfectly,” answered the Doctor; “there are various other
characters which I don’t immediately recollect--but of these I am
positive: but for the soul of me I can’t find out Munchausen, though I
hear he has sent to London for some particular habit; he’ll be the life
of the cause--but how shall you go, hey, Mr. Victor? every body’s dying
to know your character.”
“Then, tell them I go an _Achilles_ in complete armour.”
“But where did you get it from?” asked the credulous Doctor.
“A friend has furnished me.”
“The Markwells are not to be there, I understand,” resumed old Tonic;
“every body thought Miss Fitzclarence would at least have represented
Venus--by the bye, it’s a bit of a hoax upon us, for she was fully
expected--it’s a devilish disappointment to Mrs. Fungus--I wonder
what’s the reason--some say she did’nt choose to _hide_ her pretty
face, others assert she was not _competent_ to support a character.”
“And I’ll bet a wager both suggestions are erroneous,” cried my uncle,
“particularly the latter.”
“You are partial,” answered the Doctor; “we make no phenomenon of her
in our family, as you do--you absolutely magnify the very atoms of
merit into enormous objects of admiration.”
“And you, by peering at them through the diminishing optics of envy,
imagine them lessened in proportion to your wishes; but, recollect,
Doctor, it is not every body sees with the _black_ eyes you do,”
replied my uncle.
“Poh!” cried Tonic, “I allow her to be a very fine girl, handsome,
accomplished, rich, and so forth: but, like most people, possessed of
those endowments, she knows it, for she carries her head high enough to
my daughters; she’s not familiar enough to please them.”
“Overfamiliarity is truly contemptuous,” said my uncle; “a modest,
elegant, degree of reserve is so much more fascinating, that I don’t
wonder a young lady brought up in the refined style Miss Fitzclarence
has been educated, should not suit your daughters’ ideas; a common
village education, and a continental one in the bosom of science, and
the school of genius, must form pupils of as different a class as St.
Giles’s and St. James’s.”
“I don’t see that,” returned the Doctor, highly piqued--“good day, good
day, Mr. Achilles, we shall look sharp for you to-morrow.”
“Aye, _look sharp_, and _be sharp_, is the order of masquerading, and
Victor won’t be deficient, I’m sure,” said my uncle.
Away went the Doctor; and highly elate at the discovery I had made of
the various characters, we augured much amusement from our intended
quiz, not doubting we should hear a pretty budget of village skits, at
the expense of Rosa and ourselves, which was, in fact, the sole motive
of our attendance, as my uncle most heartily despised Mrs. Fungus’s
principles, which he was now willing to put to the test, as the only
opportunity of obtaining their genuine knowledge.