Jorrocks' Jaunts and Jollities by Robert Smith Surtees
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Robert Smith Surtees >> Jorrocks\' Jaunts and Jollities
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_Stranger_. Oh! I don't doubt but you have some good men among you; I'm
sure I didn't mean anything offensive, by asking if it was a cocktail
affair, but we Meltonians certainly have a trick, I must confess, of
running every other country down; come, sir, I'll drink the Surrey hunt
with all my heart, said he, swigging off the remains of a glass of
brandy-and-water which the waiter had brought him shortly after
entering.
_Jorrocks_. Thank you, sir, kindly. Waiter, bring me a bottom o' brandy,
cold, without--and don't stint for quantity, if you please. Doesn't you
think these inns werry expensive places, sir? I doesn't mean this in
particular, but inns in general.
_Stranger_. Oh! I don't know, sir. We must expect to pay. "Live and let
live," is my motto. I always pay my inn bills without looking them over.
Just cast my eyes at the bottom to see the amount, then call for pen and
ink, add so much for waiter, so much for chambermaid, so much for boots,
and if I'm travelling in my own carriage so much for the ostler for
greasing. That's the way I do business, sir.
_Jorrocks_. Well, sir, a werry pleasant plan too, especially for the
innkeeper--and all werry right for a gentleman of fortune like you. My
motto, however, is "Waste not, want not," and my wife's father's motto
was "Wilful waste brings woeful want," and I likes to have my money's
worth.--Now, said he, pulling out a handful of bills, at some places
that I go to they charges me six shillings a day for my dinner, and when
I was ill and couldn't digest nothing but the lightest and plainest of
breakfasts, when a fork breakfast in fact would have made a stiff 'un of
me, and my muffin mill was almost stopped, they charged me two shillings
for one cake, and sixpence for two eggs.--Now I'm in the tea trade
myself, you must know, and I contend that as things go, or at least as
things went before the Barbarian eye, as they call Napier, kicked up a
row with the Hong merchants, it's altogether a shameful imposition, and
I wonder people put up with it.
_Stranger_. Oh, sir, I don't know. I think that it is the charge all
over the country. Besides, it doesn't do to look too closely at these
things, and you must allow something for keeping up the coffee-room, you
know--fire, candles, and so on.
_Jorrocks_. But blow me tight, you surely don't want a candle to
breakfast by? However, I contends that innkeepers are great fools for
making these sort of charges, for it makes people get out of their
houses as quick as ever they can, whereas they might be inclined to stay
if they could get things moderate.--For my part I likes a coffee-room,
but having been used to commercial houses when I travelled, I knows what
the charges ought to be. Now, this room is snug enough though small, and
won't require no great keeping up.
_Stranger_. No--but this room is smaller than the generality of them,
you know. They frequently have two fires in them, besides no end of oil
burning.--I know the expense of these things, for I have a very large
house in the country, and rely upon it, innkeepers have not such immense
profits as many people imagines--but, as I said before, "live and let
live."
_Jorrocks_. So says I, "live and let live"--but wot I complains of is,
that some innkeepers charge so much that they won't let people live.
No man is fonder of eating than myself, but I don't like to pay by the
mouthful, or yet to drink tea at so much a thimbleful. By the way, Sar,
if you are not previously engaged, I should be werry happy to supply you
with red Mocho or best Twankay at a very reasonable figure indeed for
cash?
_Stranger._ Thank you, sir, thank you. Those are things I never
interfere with--leave all these things to my people. My housekeeper
sends me in her book every quarter day, with an account of what she
pays. I just look at the amount--add so much for wages, and write a
cheque--"live and let live!" say I. However, added he, pulling out his
watch, and ringing the bell for the chambermaid, "I hate to get up very
early, so I think it is time to go to bed, and I wish you a very good
night, gentlemen all."
Jorrocks gets up, advances half-way to the door, makes him one of his
most obsequious bows, and wishes him a werry good night. Having heard
him tramp upstairs and safely deposited in his bedroom, they pulled
their chairs together again, and making a smaller circle round the fire,
proceeded to canvass their departed friend. Jorrocks began--"I say, wot
a regular swell the chap is--a Meltonian, too.--I wonders who the deuce
he is. Wish Mr. Nimrod was among us, he could tell us all about him, I
dare say. I'm blowed if I didn't take him for a commercial gentleman at
first, until he spoke about his carriages. I likes to see gentlemen
of fortune making themselves sociable by coming into the coffee-room,
instead of sticking themselves up in private sitting-rooms, as if nobody
was good enough for them. You know Melton, Mr. York; did you ever see
the gentleman out?"
"I can't say that I ever did," said his friend, "but people look so
different in their red coats to what they do in mufti, that there's no
such thing as recognising them unless you had a previous acquaintance
with them. The fields in Leicestershire are sometimes so large that it
requires a residence to get anything like a general knowledge of the
hunt, and, you know, Northamptonshire's the country for my money, after
Surrey, of course."
"I don't think he is a gentleman," observed a thin sallow-complexioned
young man, who, sitting on one side of the fire, had watched the
stranger very narrowly without joining in the conversation. "He gives me
more the idea of a gentleman's servant, acting the part of master, than
anything else."
_Jorrocks._ Oh! he is a gentleman, I'm sure--besides, a servant wouldn't
travel in a carriage you know, and he talked about greasing the wheels
and all that sort of thing, which showed he was familiar with the thing.
"That's very true," replied the youth--"but a servant may travel in the
rumble and pay for greasing the wheels all the same, or perhaps have to
grease them himself."
"Well, I should say he's a foolish purse-proud sort of fellow," observed
another, "who has come into money unexpectedly, and who likes to be the
cock of his party, and show off a little."
_Jorrocks._ I'll be bound to say you're all wrong--you are not
fox-hunters, you see, or you would know that that is a way the sportsmen
have--we always make ourselves at home and agreeable--have a word for
everybody in fact, and no reserve; besides, you see, there was nothing
gammonacious, as I calls it, about his toggery, no round-cut coats with
sporting buttons, or coaches and four, or foxes for pins in his shirt.
"I don't care for that," replied the sallow youth, "dress him as you
will, court suit, bag wig, and sword, you'll make nothing better of
him--he's a SNOB."
Jorrocks, getting up, runs to the table on which the hats were standing,
saying, "I wonder if he's left his castor behind him? I've always found
a man's hat will tell a good deal. This is yours, Mr. York, with the
loop to it, and here's mine--I always writes Golgotha in mine, which
being interpreted, you know, means the place of a skull. These are
yours, I presume, gentlemen?" said he, taking up two others. "Confound
him, he's taken his tile with him--however, I'm quite positive he's a
gentleman--lay you a hat apiece all round he is, if you like!"
"But how are we to prove it?" inquired the youth.
_Jorrocks._ Call in the waiter.
_Youth._ He may know nothing about him, and a waiter's gentleman is
always the man who pays him most.
_Jorrocks._ Trust the waiter for knowing something about him, and if he
doesn't, why, it's only to send a purlite message upstairs, saying that
two gentlemen in the coffee-room have bet a trifle that he is some
nobleman--Lord Maryborough, for instance,--he's a little chap--but we
must make haste, or the gentleman will be asleep.
"Well, then, I'll take your bet of a hat," replied the youth, "that he
is not what I call a gentleman."
_Jorrocks._ I don't know what you calls a gentleman. I'll lay you a hat,
a guinea one, either white or black, whichever you like, but none o'
your dog hairs or gossamers, mind--that he's a man of dibs, and doesn't
follow no trade or calling, and if that isn't a gentleman, I don't know
wot is. What say you, Mr. York?
"Suppose we put it thus--You bet this gentleman a hat that he's a
Meltonian, which will comprise all the rest."
_Jorrocks._ Werry well put. Do you take me, sir? A guinea hat against a
guinea hat.
"I do," said the youth.
_Jorrocks._ Then DONE--now ring the bell for the waiter--I'll pump him.
_Enter waiter._
_Jorrocks._ Snuff them candles, if you please, and bring me another
bottom o' brandy-cold, without--and, waiter! here, pray who is that
gentleman that came in by the Liverpool coach to-night? The little
gentleman in long black gaiters who sat in this chair, you know, and had
some brandy-and-water.
_Waiter._ I know who you mean, sir, quite well, the gentleman who's gone
to bed. Let me see, what's his name? He keeps that large Hotel in----
Street, Liverpool--what's the--Here an immense burst of laughter drowned
the remainder of the sentence.
Jorrocks rose in a rage. "No! you double-distilled blockhead," said he,
"no such thing--you're thinking of someone else. The gentleman hunts at
Melton Mowbray, and travels in his own carriage."
_Waiter_. I don't know nothing about Melton Mowbray, sir, but the last
time he came through here on his road to Bristol, he was in one of his
own rattle-trap yellows, and had such a load--his wife, a nurse, and
eight children inside; himself, his son, and an apple-tree on the
dickey--that the horses knocked up half-way and...
_Jorrocks_. Say no more--say no more--d----n his teeth and
toe-nails--and that's swearing--a thing I never do but on the most
outrageous occasions. Confounded humbug, I'll be upsides with him,
however. Waiter, bring the bill and no more brandy. Never was so done in
all my life--a gammonacious fellow! "There, sir, there's your one pound
one," said he, handing a sovereign and a shilling to the winner of the
hat. "Give me my tile, and let's mizzle.--Waiter, I can't wait; must
bring the bill up to my lodgings in the morning if it isn't ready.--Come
away, come away--I shall never get over this as long as ever I live.
'Live and let live,' indeed! no wonder he stuck up for the innkeepers--a
publican and a sinner as he is. Good night, gentlemen, good night."
_Exit Jorrocks_.
VII. AQUATICS: MR. JORROCKS AT MARGATE
The shady side of Cheapside had become a luxury, and footmen in red
plush breeches objects of real commiseration, when Mr. Jorrocks,
tired of the heat and "ungrateful hurry of the town," resolved upon
undertaking an aquatic excursion. He was sitting, as is "his custom
always in the afternoon," in the arbour at the farther end of his gravel
walk, which he dignifies by the name of "garden," and had just finished
a rough mental calculation, as to whether he could eat more bread spread
with jam or honey, when the idea of the jaunt entered his imagination.
Being a man of great decision, he speedily winnowed the project over
in his mind, and producing a five-pound note from the fob of his small
clothes, passed it in review between his fingers, rubbed out the
creases, held it up to the light, refolded and restored it to his fob.
"Batsay," cried he, "bring my castor--the white one as hangs next the
blue cloak;" and forthwith a rough-napped, unshorn-looking, white hat
was transferred from the peg to Mr. Jorrocks's head. This done, he
proceeded to the "Piazza," where he found the Yorkshireman exercising
himself up and down the spacious coffee-room, and, grasping his hand
with the firmness of a vice, he forthwith began unburthening himself of
the object of his mission. "'Ow are you?" said he, shaking his arm like
the handle of a pump. "'Ow are you, I say?--I'm so delighted to see you,
ye carn't think--isn't this charming weather! It makes me feel like a
butterfly--really think the 'air is sprouting under my vig." Here he
took off his wig and rubbed his hand over his bald head, as though he
were feeling for the shoots.
"Now to business--Mrs. J---- is away at Tooting, as you perhaps knows,
and I'm all alone in Great Coram Street, with the key of the cellar,
larder, and all that sort of thing, and I've a werry great mind to be
off on a jaunt--what say you?" "Not the slightest objection," replied
the Yorkshireman, "on the old principle of you finding cash, and me
finding company." "Why, now I'll tell you, werry honestly, that I should
greatly prefer your paying your own shot; but, however, if you've a mind
to do as I do, I'll let you stand in the half of a five-pound note and
whatever silver I have in my pocket," pulling out a great handful as he
spoke, and counting up thirty-two and sixpence. "Very good," replied
the Yorkshireman when he had finished, "I'm your man;--and not to be
behindhand in point of liberality, I've got threepence that I received
in change at the cigar divan just now, which I will add to the common
stock, so that we shall have six pounds twelve and ninepence between
us." "Between us!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, "now that's so like a
Yorkshireman. I declare you Northerns seem to think all the world are
asleep except yourselves;--howsomever, I von't quarrel with you--you're
a goodish sort of chap in your way, and so long as I keep the swag,
we carn't get far wrong. Well, then, to-morrow at two we'll start for
Margate--the most delightful place in all the world, where we will have
a rare jollification, and can stay just as long as the money holds
out. So now good-bye--I'm off home again to see about wittles for the
woyage."
It were almost superfluous to mention that the following day was a
Saturday--for no discreet citizen would think of leaving town on any
other. It dawned with uncommon splendour, and the cocks of Coram Street
and adjacent parts seemed to hail the morn with more than their wonted
energy. Never, save on a hunting morning, did Mr. Jorrocks tumble about
in bed with such restless anxiety as cock after cock took up the crow
in every gradation of noise from the shrill note of the free
street-scouring chanticleer before the door, to the faint response of
the cooped and prisoned victims of the neighbouring poulterer's, their
efforts being aided by the flutterings and impertinent chirruping of
swarms of town-bred sparrows.
At length the boy, Binjimin, tapped at his master's door, and,
depositing his can of shaving-water on his dressing-table, took away his
coat and waistcoat, under pretence of brushing them, but in reality to
feel if he had left any pence in the pockets. With pleasure Mr. Jorrocks
threw aside the bed-clothes, and bounded upon the floor with a bump that
shook his own and adjoining houses. On this day a few extra minutes were
devoted to his toilet, one or two of which were expended in adjusting a
gold foxhead pin in a conspicuous part of his white tie, and in drawing
on a pair of new dark blue stocking-net pantaloons, made so excessively
tight, that at starting, any of his Newmarket friends would have laid
three to two against his ever getting into them at all. When on,
however, they fully developed the substantial proportions of his
well-rounded limbs, while his large tasselled Hessians showed that the
bootmaker had been instructed to make a pair for a "great calf." A
blue coat, with metal buttons, ample laps, and pockets outside, with a
handsome buff kerseymere waistcoat, formed his costume on this occasion.
Breakfast being over, he repaired to St. Botolph Lane, there to see his
letters and look after his commercial affairs; in which the reader not
being interested, we will allow the Yorkshireman to figure a little.
About half-past one this enterprising young man placed himself in Tommy
Sly's wherry at the foot of the Savoy stairs, and not agreeing in
opinion with Mr. Jorrocks that it is of "no use keeping a dog and
barking oneself," he took an oar and helped to row himself down to
London Bridge. At the wharf below the bridge there lay a magnificent
steamer, painted pea-green and white, with flags flying from her masts,
and the deck swarming with smart bonnets and bodices. Her name was the
_Royal Adelaide_, from which the sagacious reader will infer that this
excursion was made during the late reign. The Yorkshireman and Tommy
Sly having wormed their way among the boats, were at length brought up
within one of the vessels, and after lying on their oars a few seconds,
they were attracted by, "Now, sir, are you going to sleep there?"
addressed to a rival nautical whose boat obstructed the way, and on
looking up on deck what a sight burst upon the Yorkshireman's astonished
vision!--Mr. Jorrocks, with his coat off, and a fine green velvet cap or
turban, with a broad gold band and tassel, on his head, hoisting a
great hamper out of the wherry, rejecting all offers of assistance,
and treating the laughter and jeers of the porters and bystanders with
ineffable contempt. At length he placed the load to his liking, and
putting on his coat, adjusted his hunting telescope, and advanced to the
side, as the Yorkshireman mounted the step-ladder and came upon deck.
"Werry near being over late," said he, pulling out his watch, just at
which moment the last bell rang, and a few strokes of the paddles sent
the vessel away from the quay. "A miss is as good as a mile," replied
the Yorkshireman; "but pray what have you got in the hamper?"
"In the 'amper! Why, wittles to be sure. You seem to forget we are going
a woyage, and 'ow keen the sea hair is. I've brought a knuckle of weal,
half a ham, beef, sarsingers, chickens, sherry white, and all that sort
of thing, and werry acceptable they'll be by the time we get to the
Nore, or may be before."
"Ease her! Stop her!" cried the captain through his trumpet, just as
the vessel was getting into her stride in mid-stream, and, with true
curiosity, the passengers flocked to the side, to see who was coming,
though they could not possibly have examined half they had on board.
Mr. Jorrocks, of course, was not behindhand in inquisitiveness, and
proceeded to adjust his telescope. A wherry was seen rowing among the
craft, containing the boatman, and a gentleman in a woolly white hat,
with a bright pea-green coat, and a basket on his knee. "By jingo,
here's Jemmy Green!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, taking his telescope from
his eye, and giving his thigh a hearty slap. "How unkimmon lucky! The
werry man of all others I should most like to see. You know James Green,
don't you?" addressing the Yorkshireman--"young James Green, junior,
of Tooley Street--everybody knows him--most agreeable young man in
Christendom--fine warbler--beautiful dancer--everything that a young man
should be."
"How are you James?" cried Jorrocks, seizing him by the hand as his
friend stepped upon deck; but whether it was the nervousness occasioned
by the rocking of the wherry, or the shaking of the step-ladder up the
side of the steamer, or Mr. Jorrocks's new turban cap, but Mr. Green,
with an old-maidish reserve, drew back from the proffered embrace of his
friend. "You have the adwantage of me, sir," said he, fidgeting back
as he spoke, and eyeing Mr. Jorrocks with unmeasured surprise--"Yet
stay--if I'm not deceived it's Mr. Jorrocks--so it is!" and thereupon
they joined hands most cordially, amid exclamations of, "'Ow are you,
J----?" '"Ow are you, G----?" "'Ow are you, J----?" "So glad to see you,
J----" "So glad to see you, G----" "So glad to see you, J----" "And pray
what may you have in your basket?" inquired Mr. Jorrocks, putting his
hand to the bottom of a neat little green-and-white willow woman's
basket, apparently for the purpose of ascertaining its weight. "Only my
clothes, and a little prowision for the woyage. A baked pigeon, some
cold maccaroni, and a few pectoral lozenges. At the bottom are my
Margate shoes, with a comb in one, and a razor in t'other; then comes
the prog, and at the top, I've a dickey and a clean front for to-morrow.
I abominates travelling with much luggage. Where, I ax, is the use of
carrying nightcaps, when the innkeepers always prowide them, without
extra charge? The same with regard to soap. Shave, I say, with what you
find in your tray. A wet towel makes an excellent tooth-brush, and a
pen-knife both cuts and cleans your nails. Perhaps you'll present
your friend to me," added he in the same breath, with a glance at the
Yorkshireman, upon whose arm Mr. Jorrocks was resting his telescope
hand. "Much pleasure," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with his usual urbanity.
"Allow me to introduce Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Green, Mr. Green, Mr. Stubbs: now
pray shake hands," added he, "for I'm sure you'll be werry fond of each
other"; and thereupon Jemmy, in the most patronising manner, extended
his two forefingers to the Yorkshireman, who presented him with one in
return. For the information of such of our readers as may never have
seen Mr. James Green, senior junior, either in Tooley Street, Southwark,
where the patronymic name abounds, or at Messrs. Tattersall's, where he
generally exhibits on a Monday afternoon, we may premise, that though a
little man in stature, he is a great man in mind and a great swell in
costume. On the present occasion, as already stated, he had on a woolly
white hat, his usual pea-green coat, with a fine, false, four-frilled
front to his shirt, embroidered, plaited, and puckered, like a lady's
habit-shirt. Down the front were three or four different sorts of studs,
and a butterfly brooch, made of various coloured glasses, sat in
the centre. His cravat was of a yellow silk with a flowered border,
confining gills sharp and pointed that looked up his nostrils; his
double-breasted waistcoat was of red and yellow tartan with blue glass
post-boy buttons; and his trousers, which were very wide and cut out
over the foot of rusty-black chamois-leather opera-boots, were of a
broad blue stripe upon a white ground. A curly, bushy, sandy-coloured
wig protruded from the sides of his woolly white hat, and shaded a
vacant countenance, which formed the frontispiece of a great chuckle
head. Sky-blue gloves and a stout cane, with large tassels, completed
the rigging of this borough dandy. Altogether he was as fine as any
peacock, and as vain as the proudest.
"And 'ow is Mrs. J----?" inquired Green with the utmost affability--"I
hopes she's uncommon well--pray, is she of your party?" looking round.
"Why, no," replied Mr. Jorrocks, "she's off at Tooting at her mother's,
and I'm just away, on the sly, to stay a five-pound at Margate this
delightful weather. 'Ow long do you remain?" "Oh, only till Monday
morning--I goes every Saturday; in fact," added he in an undertone,
"I've a season ticket, so I may just as well use it, as stay poking in
Tooley Street with the old folks, who really are so uncommon glumpy,
that it's quite refreshing to get away from them."
"That's a pity," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with one of his benevolent looks.
"But 'ow comes it, James, you are not married? You are not a bouy now,
and should be looking out for a home of your own." "True, my dear
J----, true," replied Mr. Green; "and I'll tell you wot, our principal
book-keeper and I have made many calculations on the subject, and being
a man of literature like yourself, he gave it as his opinion the last
time we talked the matter over, that it would only be avoiding Silly and
running into Crab-beds; which I presume means Quod or the Bench. Unless
he can have a wife 'made to order,' he says he'll never wed. Besides,
the women are such a bothersome encroaching set. I declare I'm so
pestered with them that I don't know vich vay to turn. They are always
tormenting of me. Only last week one sent me a specification of what
she'd marry me for, and I declare her dress, alone, came to more than I
have to find myself in clothes, ball-and concert-tickets, keep an 'oss,
go to theatres, buy lozenges, letter-paper, and everything else with.
There were bumbazeens, and challies, and merinos, and crape, and gauze,
and dimity, and caps, bonnets, stockings, shoes, boots, rigids, stays,
ringlets; and, would you believe it, she had the unspeakable audacity to
include a bustle! It was the most monstrous specification and proposal
I ever read, and I returned it by the twopenny post, axing her if she
hadn't forgotten to include a set of false teeth. Still, I confess, I'm
tired of Tooley Street. I feel that I have a soul above hemp, and was
intended for a brighter sphere; but vot can one do, cooped up at home
without men of henergy for companions? No prospect of improvement
either; for I left our old gentleman alarmingly well just now, pulling
about the flax and tow, as though his dinner depended upon his
exertions. I think if the women would let me alone, I might have some
chance, but it worries a man of sensibility and refinement to have them
always tormenting of one.--I've no objection to be led, but, dash my
buttons, I von't be driven." "Certainly not," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with
great gravity, jingling the silver in his breeches-pocket. "It's an old
saying, James, and times proves it true, that you may take an 'oss to
the water but you carn't make him drink--and talking of 'osses, pray,
how are you off in that line?" "Oh, werry well--uncommon, I may say--a
thoroughbred, bang tail down to the hocks, by Phantom, out of Baron
Munchausen's dam--gave a hatful of money for him at Tatts'.--five
fives--a deal of tin as times go. But he's a perfect 'oss, I assure
you--bright bay with four black legs, and never a white hair upon him.
He's touched in the vind, but that's nothing--I'm not a fox-hunter, you
know, Mr. Jorrocks; besides, I find the music he makes werry useful in
the streets, as a warning to the old happle women to get out of the way.
Pray, sir," turning to the Yorkshireman with a jerk, "do you dance?"--as
the boat band, consisting of a harp, a flute, a lute, a long horn, and
a short horn, struck up a quadrille,--and, without waiting for a reply,
our hero sidled past, and glided among the crowd that covered the deck.
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