the Willow-slack on Saturday--he was tog'd
gnostically enough, and cast twelve yards of line with one hand--the fly
fell like a thistledown on the water."
"Uich!" answered the party he addressed, in the accents of a dog choking
in the collar.
"We saw him pull out the salmon yonder," said Mowbray; "you
remember--clean fish--the tide-ticks on his gills--weighed, I dare say,
a matter of eighteen pounds."
"Sixteen!" replied Sir Bingo, in the same tone of strangulation.
"None of your rigs, Bing!" said his companion, "--nearer eighteen than
sixteen!"
"Nearer sixteen, by ----!"
"Will you go a dozen of blue on it to the company?" said the Squire.
"No, d---- me!" croaked the Baronet--"to our own set I will."
"Then, I say done!" quoth the Squire.
And "Done!" responded the Knight; and out came their red pocketbooks.
"But who shall decide the bet?" said the Squire, "The genius himself, I
suppose; they talk of asking him here, but I suppose he will scarce mind
quizzes like them."
"Write myself--John Mowbray," said the Baronet.
"You, Baronet!--you write!" answered the Squire, "d---- me, that cock
won't fight--you won't."
"I will," growled Sir Bingo, more articulately than usual.
"Why, you can't!" said Mowbray. "You never wrote a line in your life,
save those you were whipped for at school."
"I can write--I will write!" said Sir Bingo. "Two to one I will."
And there the affair rested, for the council of the company were in high
consultation concerning the most proper manner of opening a
communication with the mysterious stranger; and the voice of Mr.
Winterblossom, whose tones, originally fine, age had reduced to
falsetto, was calling upon the whole party for "Order, order!" So that
the bucks were obliged to lounge in silence, with both arms reclined on
the table, and testifying, by coughs and yawns, their indifference to
the matters in question, while the rest of the company debated upon
them, as if they were matters of life and death.
"A visit from one of the gentlemen--Mr. Winterblossom, if he would take
the trouble--in name of the company at large--would, Lady Penelope
Penfeather presumed to think, be a necessary preliminary to an
invitation."
Mr. Winterblossom was "quite of her ladyship's opinion, and would gladly
have been the personal representative of the company at St. Ronan's
Well--but it was up hill--her ladyship knew his tyrant, the gout, was
hovering upon the frontiers--there were other gentlemen, younger and
more worthy to fly at the lady's command than an ancient Vulcan like
him--there was the valiant Mars and the eloquent Mercury."
Thus speaking, he bowed to Captain MacTurk and the Rev. Mr. Simon
Chatterly, and reclined on his chair, sipping his negus with the
self-satisfied smile of one, who, by a pretty speech, has rid himself
of a troublesome commission. At the same time, by an act probably of
mental absence, he put in his pocket the drawing, which, after
circulating around the table, had returned back to the chair of the
president, being the point from which it had set out.
"By Cot, madam," said Captain MacTurk, "I should be proud to obey your
leddyship's commands--but, by Cot, I never call first on any man that
never called upon me at all, unless it were to carry him a friend's
message, or such like."
"Twig the old connoisseur," said the Squire to the Knight.--"He is
condiddling the drawing."
"Go it, Johnnie Mowbray--pour it into him," whispered Sir Bingo.
"Thank ye for nothing, Sir Bingo," said the Squire, in the same tone.
"Winterblossom is one of us--_was_ one of us at least--and won't stand
the ironing. He has his Wogdens still, that were right things in his
day, and can hit the hay-stack with the best of us--but stay, they are
hallooing on the parson."
They were indeed busied on all hands, to obtain Mr. Chatterly's consent
to wait on the Genius unknown; but though he smiled and simpered, and
was absolutely incapable of saying No, he begged leave, in all humility,
to decline that commission. "The truth was," he pleaded in his excuse,
"that having one day walked to visit the old Castle of St. Ronan's, and
returning through the Auld Town, as it was popularly called, he had
stopped at the door of the _Cleikum_," (pronounced _Anglice_, with the
open diphthong,) "in hopes to get a glass of syrup of capillaire, or a
draught of something cooling; and had in fact expressed his wishes, and
was knocking pretty loudly, when a sash-window was thrown suddenly up,
and ere he was aware what was about to happen, he was soused with a
deluge of water," (as he said,) "while the voice of an old hag from
within assured him, that if that did not cool him there was another
biding him,--an intimation which induced him to retreat in all haste
from the repetition of the shower-bath."
All laughed at the account of the chaplain's misfortune, the history of
which seemed to be wrung from him reluctantly, by the necessity of
assigning some weighty cause for declining to execute the ladies'
commands. But the Squire and Baronet continued their mirth far longer
than decorum allowed, flinging themselves back in their chairs, with
their hands thrust into their side-pockets, and their mouths expanded
with unrestrained enjoyment, until the sufferer, angry, disconcerted,
and endeavouring to look scornful, incurred another general burst of
laughter on all hands.
When Mr. Winterblossom had succeeded in restoring some degree of order,
he found the mishaps of the young divine proved as intimidating as
ludicrous. Not one of the company chose to go Envoy Extraordinary to the
dominions of Queen Meg, who might be suspected of paying little respect
to the sanctity of an ambassador's person. And what was worse, when it
was resolved that a civil card from Mr. Winterblossom, in the name of
the company, should be sent to the stranger, instead of a personal
visit, Dinah informed them that she was sure no one about the house
could be bribed to carry up a letter of the kind; for, when such an
event had taken place two summers since, Meg, who construed it into an
attempt to seduce from her tenement the invited guest, had so handled a
ploughboy who carried the letter, that he fled the country-side
altogether, and never thought himself safe till he was at a village ten
miles off, where it was afterwards learned he enlisted with a recruiting
party, choosing rather to face the French than to return within the
sphere of Meg's displeasure.
Just while they were agitating this new difficulty, a prodigious clamour
was heard without, which, to the first apprehensions of the company,
seemed to be Meg, in all her terrors, come to anticipate the proposed
invasion. Upon enquiry, however, it proved to be her gossip, Trotting
Nelly, or Nelly Trotter, in the act of forcing her way up stairs,
against the united strength of the whole household of the hotel, to
reclaim Luckie Dods's picture, as she called it. This made the
connoisseur's treasure tremble in his pocket, who, thrusting a
half-crown into Toby's hand, exhorted him to give it her, and try his
influence in keeping her back. Toby, who knew Nelly's nature, put the
half-crown into his own pocket, and snatched up a gill-stoup of whisky
from the sideboard. Thus armed, he boldly confronted the virago, and
interposing a _remora_, which was able to check poor Nelly's course in
her most determined moods, not only succeeded in averting the immediate
storm which approached the company in general, and Mr. Winterblossom in
particular, but brought the guests the satisfactory information, that
Trotting Nelly had agreed, after she had slept out her nap in the barn,
to convey their commands to the Unknown of Cleikum of Aultoun.
Mr. Winterblossom, therefore, having authenticated his proceedings, by
inserting in the Minutes of the Committee, the authority which he had
received, wrote his card in the best style of diplomacy, and sealed it
with the seal of the Spa, which bore something like a nymph, seated
beside what was designed to represent an urn.
The rival factions, however, did not trust entirely to this official
invitation. Lady Penelope was of opinion that they should find some way
of letting the stranger--a man of talent unquestionably--understand that
there were in the society to which he was invited, spirits of a more
select sort, who felt worthy to intrude themselves on his solitude.
Accordingly, her ladyship imposed upon the elegant Mr. Chatterly the
task of expressing the desire of the company to see the unknown artist,
in a neat occasional copy of verses. The poor gentleman's muse, however,
proved unpropitious; for he was able to proceed no farther than two
lines in half an hour, which, coupled with its variations, we insert
from the blotted manuscript, as Dr. Johnson has printed the alterations
in Pope's version of the Iliad:
1. _Maids._ 2. _Dames._ unity joining.
The [nymphs] of St. Ronan's [in purpose combining]
1. _Swain._ 2. _Man._
To the [youth] who is great both in verse and designing,
......... dining.
The eloquence of a prose billet was necessarily resorted to in the
absence of the heavenly muse, and the said billet was secretly intrusted
to the care of Trotting Nelly. The same trusty emissary, when refreshed
by her nap among the pease-straw, and about to harness her cart for her
return to the seacoast, (in the course of which she was to pass the
Aultoun,) received another card, written, as he had threatened, by Sir
Bingo Binks himself, who had given himself this trouble to secure the
settlement of the bet; conjecturing that a man with a fashionable
exterior, who could throw twelve yards of line at a cast with such
precision, might consider the invitation of Winterblossom as that of an
old twaddler, and care as little for the good graces of an affected
blue-stocking and her _coterie_, whose conversation, in Sir Bingo's
mind, relished of nothing but of weak tea and bread and butter. Thus the
happy Mr. Francis Tyrrel received, considerably to his surprise, no less
than three invitations at once from the Well of St. Ronan's.
FOOTNOTE:
[I-13] The one or the other was equally _in votis_ to Ascanius,--
"Optat aprum, aut fulvum descendere monte leonem."
Modern Trojans make a great distinction betwixt these two objects of
chase.
CHAPTER V.
EPISTOLARY ELOQUENCE.
But how can I answer, since first I must read thee?
PRIOR.
Desirous of authenticating our more important facts, by as many original
documents as possible, we have, after much research, enabled ourselves
to present the reader with the following accurate transcripts of the
notes intrusted to the care of Trotting Nelly. The first ran thus:
"Mr. Winterblossom [of Silverhed] has the commands of Lady Penelope
Penfeather, Sir Bingo and Lady Binks, Mr. and Miss Mowbray [of St.
Ronan's], and the rest of the company at the Hotel and Tontine Inn
of St. Ronan's Well, to express their hope that the gentleman lodged
at the Cleikum Inn, Old Town of St. Ronan's, will favour them with
his company at the Ordinary, as early and as often as may suit his
convenience. The COMPANY think it necessary to send this intimation,
because, according to the RULES of the place, the Ordinary can only
be attended by such gentlemen and ladies as lodge at St. Ronan's
Well; but they are happy to make a distinction in favour of a
gentleman so distinguished for success in the fine arts as Mr. ----
----, residing at Cleikum. If Mr. ---- ---- should be inclined, upon
becoming further acquainted with the COMPANY and RULES of the
Place, to remove his residence to the Well, Mr. Winterblossom,
though he would not be understood to commit himself by a positive
assurance to that effect, is inclined to hope that an arrangement
might be made, notwithstanding the extreme crowd of the season, to
accommodate Mr. ---- ---- at the lodging-house, called
Lilliput-Hall. It will much conduce to facilitate this negotiation,
if Mr. ---- ---- would have the goodness to send an exact note of
his stature, as Captain Rannletree seems disposed to resign the
folding-bed at Lilliput-Hall, on account of his finding it rather
deficient in length. Mr. Winterblossom begs farther to assure Mr.
---- ---- of the esteem in which he holds his genius, and of his
high personal consideration.
"For ---- ----, Esquire,
Cleikum Inn, Old Town of St. Ronan's.
"_The Public Rooms,_
_Hotel and Tontine, St. Ronan's Well,_
_&c. &c. &c._"
The above card was written (we love to be precise in matters concerning
orthography) in a neat, round, clerk-like hand, which, like Mr.
Winterblossom's character, in many particulars was most accurate and
commonplace, though betraying an affectation both of flourish and of
facility.
The next billet was a contrast to the diplomatic gravity and accuracy of
Mr. Winterblossom's official communication, and ran thus, the young
divine's academic jests and classical flowers of eloquence being mingled
with some wild flowers from the teeming fancy of Lady Penelope.
"A choir of Dryads and Naiads, assembled at the healing spring of
St. Ronan's, have learned with surprise that a youth, gifted by
Apollo, when the Deity was prodigal, with two of his most esteemed
endowments, wanders at will among their domains, frequenting grove
and river, without once dreaming of paying homage to its tutelary
deities. He is, therefore, summoned to their presence, and prompt
obedience will insure him forgiveness; but in case of contumacy, let
him beware how he again essays either the lyre or the pallet.
"_Postscript._ The adorable Penelope, long enrolled among the
Goddesses for her beauty and virtues, gives Nectar and Ambrosia,
which mortals call tea and cake, at the Public Rooms, near the
Sacred Spring, on Thursday evening, at eight o'clock, when the Muses
never fail to attend. The stranger's presence is requested to
participate in the delights of the evening.
"_Second Postscript._ A shepherd, ambitiously aiming at more
accommodation than his narrow cot affords, leaves it in a day or
two.
'Assuredly the thing is to be hired.'
_As You Like It._
"_Postscript third._ Our Iris, whom mortals know as Trotting Nelly
in her tartan cloak, will bring us the stranger's answer to our
celestial summons."
This letter was written in a delicate Italian hand, garnished with fine
hair-strokes and dashes, which were sometimes so dexterously thrown off
as to represent lyres, pallets, vases, and other appropriate
decorations, suited to the tenor of the contents.
The third epistle
