_A Daisy Cutter, with his Varieties._
In the month of July, 1780, Doctor Geoffery Gambado was visited, from
Birmingham, by the celebrated cutler, Mr. John Green, a gentleman who
had become uncommonly dyspeptic from a great excrescence, wart, or wen,
that grew out of his right temple, almost covering his ear. It gave him
no particular pain, except when he chanced to recline upon that part of
his head; yet, as every body looked at it, who came into his shop, and
when he appeared at church, or in any public place, he grew uncommonly
irritable and nervous. The faculty pronounced it too large to be cut
out; and, if the truth be told, Mr. Green himself had such a horror of
cutting, that, though a dealer in cutlery and in the very first steel
articles, he had an unconquerable distaste to the knife being used upon
his own person.
Like many other good kind of men, he dealt in articles that others
might use; but he himself had no wish to use them. Those who use the
sinews of men, that is, of other men, for their own speculative
purposes, and actually abhor the use of the very things they sell,
should be careful of the exciting, inciting, or foolish words they
utter, lest their language should superinduce others to use those
articles in which their traffic is, to their own destruction. Mr.
Burton, the great Quaker, was a dealer in Burton ale to a great extent,
though he was himself a rigidly abstemious man; yet, as his trade was a
good one, and paid well both in the north and south, he could afford to
give considerable sums to temperance, or even total abstinence
societies, without feeling any loss in his trade. The fact is, until the
bright men of traffic shall find out that the ruling principle of their
souls is coveteousness, they will never reform the world by a spurious
profusion of words and calculations, which have only that one principle
to appeal to as their own support.
Mr. Green dealt in swords, and knives and forks, in guns and pistols, in
lancets and razors; but he would not suffer the lancet or the knife to
touch his own flesh. He was a dealer in weapons, not in blows. A man of
peace, yet, like many a man styling himself a friend to humanity, and
assuming apostolic liberty, he could find fault with every thing and
every body; yet, for trade's sake, he had no objection to the demand
for swords, guns, or pistols. He could supply the government with any
quantity from his stores in Birmingham.
It must be confessed, that his nervous affection, and melancholy
disposition arose more from the wart upon his brow, and all its external
irritations, than from any qualms of conscience, arising from any kind
of self examination, self accusation, or self condemnation. Few men's
consciences so trouble them in the day of their prosperity.
He was recommended to consult the great nervous Doctor of the age,
Doctor Gambado. So he went to town, had an interview with the Doctor,
described all his agitating ails, and received this advice:
"Ride on horseback."
"But do you think that will do me any good?"
"I am quite sure it will do you some good,--to what extent it is
impossible to say,--that must depend upon your patience and
perseverance. One thing you can always do, namely, wear a hat that will
cover the appearance of the excrescence, and I should not be surprised
at its being the means of reducing its size considerably."
Little did the Doctor himself imagine how a cure, by his advice, was
completely effected.
"Oh, Doctor!" exclaimed Mr. Green, "what would I not give could it be
entirely eradicated by such gentle means as horseback exercise. I am no
great rider, but I would ride any distance, and almost any horse, to get
rid of this awkward protuberance."
"Well, my dear sir, we will try. Nothing like trying."
"I have heard, Doctor, that you have large stables, and keep horses of
all kinds."
The Doctor could not help smiling when he thought of his own fame, as a
horse keeper, horse doctor, and horse furnisher.
"I have large stables at the back of my house, and I have three horses
of my own; but I never kept one for sale, or sold one myself. I let off
my stables to a livery-keeper, who has ten or a dozen horses here,
namely to Mr. John Tattsall, who has the credit of being able to suit
everyone, only each must pay well to be suited."
"I should not mind what I had to pay, if I could be suited to my mind."
"Let us go and give him a look. If you can at all describe to him the
sort of horse you want, I think he will soon be able to accommodate you.
You may be sure, if the horse can be had, he will get it for you, if it
is not at this time in his stable."
The Doctor's fee was cheerfully paid, L10 10s. neatly wrapt up in tissue
paper. He had been told nothing less could be expected from a master
cutler.
Mr. Green put on his large slouchy broad-brimmed hat that covered half
his face; and the Doctor and his patient were soon in the presence of
the great Mr. Tattsall.
"John, this gentleman wants a horse."
"Glad of it, sir. Pray what sort of horse do you want, sir?"
"A good one."
"Every body wants that, and I have a great many good 'uns;' but I like
to know the sort of good 'un that a gentleman requires. One man likes a
bay, another a gray, another a roan, another a chestnut; but the colour
is not always the description. One likes a high action, another a gentle
goer, another a thunderer, another a prime bang up; one likes a
thorough-bred, another a hunter; some require cobs, others carriage
horses, others ladies' horses, others park horses; but if you can
describe the sort of animal you want, I can soon tell you if I can suit
you."
"I did once see a horse," said Mr. Green, evidently calling up to his
recollection days long gone by; "I did once see a horse that made me say
to myself, 'There! if ever I ride on horseback, I should like to get
just such a horse as that.' It was gentleness and elegance personified.
It was a beautiful creature. It turned out its toes, just lifted one
foot above the other, with a kind of quick cross action, and then set
it down with such elegance and ease, that it seemed to trip along over
the ground, exactly like a dancing master. Proud was its bearing, head
up, and tail high," and Mr. Green most poetically described it in these
words:
"It brushed the morning dew,
And o'er the carpet flew,
With all becoming grace.
So gentle, and so nobly bred,
Give it alone its upshot head,
'Twould go at any pace."
"Sir, I perceive you are a poet."
"Not a bit of it. I only cut them out of the Poet's Corner, in the Star,
and I think the author's name was 'Anon;' but it mattered not as to who
was the author, it described the very horse; and I thought then, and I
think so still, that by a very short transposition it would suit my
wife, and perhaps many others. What think you, sir?"
"She brushed the evening dew,
And o'er the carpet flew,
With all becoming grace.
So gentle, and so nobly bred,
Give her alone her upshot head,
She'd go at any pace."
The Doctor and the dealer could not help laughing.
"I perceive, sir, you are a wag; if you are not a poet. I congratulate
you upon having so charming a creature for your wife; and I only wish I
may be able to suit you with as good a horse."
"Have you a horse of this description?"
"I have a mare exactly of that kind, and we call her the Daisy Cutter."
"Pray, let me see her."
"Shall I ride her, to show you her qualities?"
"If you please."
"Bring out the Daisy Cutter."
She was brought forth, and John soon set her off to advantage.
"Just the very thing! Just the very thing! Will you send her down to
Birmingham? I am not exactly in riding trim, or I would ride her down
myself."
The animal was paid for, sent home, and proved to be the very creature
suited to Mr. Green's case.
He rode his celebrated Rosenante every evening, and greatly improved in
bodily health. He actually became cheerful, and his wife blessed the
good Doctor Gambado for having restored her husband to himself again.
Alas! for human infirmities, or for human vagaries! One of the most
wonderful complaints of nervous hypochondriacism, was actually cured,
together with its cause, by a momentary spree.
One beautiful evening, the little man was riding in the gaiety of his
heart toward Aston Hall, visions of future greatness passing before his
eyes, when, just upon the greensward in front of the park gates, there
lay in his way a great black hog, on the very edge of the road. He
thought within himself, that he should like to take a leap smack over
the animal's back; and just looking round to see that no eye should
behold his spree, he gave his "Rosenante" an unwonted kick with his
heels.
She was certainly surprised at her master's unwonted action, and in the
spurt of the moment, cocked her tail, lifted her head, and quickened her
pace;--but whether she did not see the hog, or could not leap over it if
she did, she ran directly over the animal, and fell over it, awaking it
in a horrible fright to scamper grunting away;--but, alas! she pitched
her own head, and her master's head also, without his hat, upon the hard
road. They both went the whole hog. Mr. Green lay senseless on the road,
in a pool of blood, arising from the severity of the blow, which tore
away the whole scalp of the forehead, together with the entire wart or
excrescence which grew thereupon. His Rosenante affrighted, returned to
Birmingham,--was soon recognized,--and Mr. Green was soon carried
insensible to the hospital. He remained there some days, recovering
himself and his senses.
Thus the Daisy Cutter and his vagaries became a proverb in Birmingham.
And that which skill could not, or rather through nervous apprehension
was not, permitted to try, a black hog, one of the most unlikely things
in the world, was instrumental in effecting.
When spirits mount in cheerful glee,
Beware of leaping for a spree;
For sprees create a fall:
And when you leap alone in-cog,
Beware of going the whole hog;
Better not go at all.
Yet sometimes good from ill may spring,--
One spree may prove satiety:
If Daisy Cutters wisdom bring,
Rejoice in the variety.