THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE.
DIMOND CUT DIMOND.
The name of my nex master was, if posbil, still more ellygant andyoufonious than that of my fust. I now found myself boddy servant to theHonrabble Halgernon Percy Deuceace, youngest and fifth son of the Earlof Crabs.
Halgernon was a barrystir--that is, he lived in Pump Cort, Temple: awulgar naybrood, witch praps my readers don't no. Suffiz to say, it's onthe confines of the citty, and the choasen aboad of the lawyers of thismetrappolish.
When I say that Mr. Deuceace was a barrystir, I don't mean that hewent sesshums or surcoats (as they call 'em), but simply that he kepchambers, lived in Pump Cort, and looked out for a commitionarship, ora revisinship, or any other place that the Wig guvvyment could givehim. His father was a Wig pier (as the landriss told me), and had beena Toary pier. The fack is, his lordship was so poar, that he would beanythink or nothink, to get provisions for his sons and an inkum forhimself.
I phansy that he aloud Halgernon two hundred a year; and it would havebeen a very comforable maintenants, only he knever paid him.
Owever, the young genlmn was a genlmn, and no mistake; he got hisallowents of nothing a year, and spent it in the most honrabble andfashnabble manner. He kep a kab---he went to Holmax--and Crockfud's--hemoved in the most xquizzit suckles and trubbld the law boox very little,I can tell you. Those fashnabble gents have ways of getten money, witchcomman pipple doan't understand.
Though he only had a therd floar in Pump Cort, he lived as if he hadthe welth of Cresas. The tenpun notes floo abowt as common ashaypince--clarrit and shampang was at his house as vulgar as gin; andverry glad I was, to be sure, to be a valley to a zion of the nobillaty.
Deuceace had, in his sittin-room, a large pictur on a sheet of paper.The names of his family was wrote on it; it was wrote in the shape ofa tree, a-groin out of a man-in-armer's stomick, and the names were onlittle plates among the bows. The pictur said that the Deuceaces keminto England in the year 1066, along with William Conqueruns. My mastercalled it his podygree. I do bleev it was because he had this pictur,and because he was the HONRABBLE Deuceace, that he mannitched to liveas he did. If he had been a common man, you'd have said he was nobetter than a swinler. It's only rank and buth that can warrant suchsingularities as my master show'd. For it's no use disgysing it--theHonrabble Halgernon was a GAMBLER. For a man of wulgar family, it's thewust trade that can be--for a man of common feelinx of honesty, thisprofession is quite imposbil; but for a real thoroughbread genlmn, it'sthe esiest and most prophetable line he can take.
It may praps appear curious that such a fashnabble man should live inthe Temple; but it must be recklected, that it's not only lawyers wholive in what's called the Ins of Cort. Many batchylers, who have nothinkto do with lor, have here their loginx; and many sham barrysters, whonever put on a wig and gownd twise in their lives, kip apartments in theTemple, instead of Bon Street, Pickledilly, or other fashnabble places.
Frinstance, on our stairkis (so these houses are called), there was8 sets of chamberses, and only 3 lawyers. These was bottom floar,Screwson, Hewson, and Jewson, attorneys; fust floar, Mr. SergeantFlabber--opsite, Mr. Counslor Bruffy; and secknd pair, Mr. Haggerstony,an Irish counslor, praktising at the Old Baly, and lickwise what theycall reporter to the Morning Post nyouspapper. Opsite him was wrote
MR. RICHARD BLEWITT;
and on the thud floar, with my master, lived one Mr. Dawkins.
This young fellow was a new comer into the Temple, and unlucky it wasfor him too--he'd better have never been born; for it's my firm apinionthat the Temple ruined him--that is, with the help of my master and Mr.Dick Blewitt: as you shall hear.
Mr. Dawkins, as I was gave to understand by his young man, had just leftthe Universary of Oxford, and had a pretty little fortn of his own--sixthousand pound, or so--in the stox. He was jest of age, an orfin whohad lost his father and mother; and having distinkwished hisself atCollitch, where he gained seffral prices, was come to town to push hisfortn, and study the barryster's bisness.
Not bein of a very high fammly hisself--indeed, I've heard say hisfather was a chismonger, or somethink of that lo sort--Dawkins was gladto find his old Oxford frend, Mr. Blewitt, yonger son to rich SquireBlewitt, of Listershire, and to take rooms so near him.
Now, tho' there was a considdrable intimacy between me and Mr. Blewitt'sgentleman, there was scarcely any betwixt our masters,--mine beingtoo much of the aristoxy to associate with one of Mr. Blewitt's sort.Blewitt was what they call a bettin man; he went reglar to Tattlesall's,kep a pony, wore a white hat, a blue berd's-eye handkercher, and acut-away coat. In his manners he was the very contrary of my master, whowas a slim, ellygant man as ever I see--he had very white hands, raythera sallow face, with sharp dark ise, and small wiskus neatly trimmed andas black as Warren's jet--he spoke very low and soft--he seemed to bewatchin the person with whom he was in convysation, and always flatterdeverybody. As for Blewitt, he was quite of another sort. He was alwaysswearin, singing, and slappin people on the back, as hearty as posbill.He seemed a merry, careless, honest cretur, whom one would trust withlife and soul. So thought Dawkins, at least; who, though a quiet youngman, fond of his boox, novvles, Byron's poems, foot-playing, and suchlike scientafic amusemints, grew hand in glove with honest Dick Blewitt,and soon after with my master, the Honrabble Halgernon. Poor Daw! hethought he was makin good connexions and real frends--he had fallen inwith a couple of the most etrocious swinlers that ever lived.
Before Mr. Dawkins's arrivial in our house, Mr. Deuceace had barelycondysended to speak to Mr. Blewitt; it was only about a month afterthat suckumstance that my master, all of a sudding, grew very friendlywith him. The reason was pretty clear,--Deuceace WANTED HIM. Dawkins hadnot been an hour in master's company before he knew that he had a pidginto pluck.
Blewitt knew this too: and bein very fond of pidgin, intended tokeep this one entirely to himself. It was amusin to see the HonrabbleHalgernon manuvring to get this poor bird out of Blewitt's clause, whothought he had it safe. In fact, he'd brought Dawkins to these chambersfor that very porpos, thinking to have him under his eye, and strip himat leisure.
My master very soon found out what was Mr. Blewitt's game. Gamblersknow gamblers, if not by instink, at least by reputation; and though Mr.Blewitt moved in a much lower speare than Mr. Deuceace, they knew eachother's dealins and caracters puffickly well.
"Charles you scoundrel," says Deuceace to me one day (he always spoak inthat kind way), "who is this person that has taken the opsit chambers,and plays the flute so industrusly?"
"It's Mr. Dawkins, a rich young gentleman from Oxford, and a greatfriend of Mr. Blewittses, sir," says I; "they seem to live in eachother's rooms."
Master said nothink, but he GRIN'D--my eye, how he did grin. Not thefowl find himself could snear more satannickly.
I knew what he meant:
Imprimish. A man who plays the floot is a simpleton.
Secknly. Mr. Blewitt is a raskle.
Thirdmo. When a raskle and a simpleton is always together, and when thesimpleton is RICH, one knows pretty well what will come of it.
I was but a lad in them days, but I knew what was what, as well as mymaster; it's not gentlemen only that's up to snough. Law bless us! therewas four of us on this stairkes, four as nice young men as you ever see:Mr. Bruffy's young man, Mr. Dawkinses, Mr. Blewitt's, and me--andwe knew what our masters was about as well as thay did theirselfs.Frinstance, I can say this for MYSELF, there wasn't a paper inDeuceace's desk or drawer, not a bill, a note, or mimerandum, which Ihadn't read as well as he: with Blewitt's it was the same--me and hisyoung man used to read 'em all. There wasn't a bottle of wine that wedidn't get a glass out of, nor a pound of sugar that we didn't have somelumps of it. We had keys to all the cubbards--we pipped into all theletters that kem and went---we pored over all the bill-files--we'd thebest pickens out of the dinners, the livvers of the fowls, the forcemitballs out of the soup, the egs from the sallit. As for the coalsand candles,
we left them to the landrisses. You may call thisrobry--nonsince--it's only our rights--a suvvant's purquizzits is assacred as the laws of Hengland.
Well, the long and short of it is this. Richard Blewitt, esquire, wassityouated as follows: He'd an incum of three hundred a year from hisfather. Out of this he had to pay one hundred and ninety for moneyborrowed by him at collidge, seventy for chambers, seventy more for hishoss, aty for his suvvant on bord wagis, and about three hundred andfifty for a sepparat establishment in the Regency Park; besides this,his pockit-money, say a hunderd, his eatin, drinkin, and wine-marchant'sbill, about two hunderd moar. So that you see he laid by a prettyhandsome sum at the end of the year.
My master was diffrent; and being a more fashnable man than Mr. B., incourse he owed a deal more mony. There was fust:
Account contray, at Crockford's L 3711 0 0 Bills of xchange and I. O. U.'s (but he didn't pay these in most cases) 4963 0 0 21 tailors' bills, in all 1306 11 9 3 hossdealers' do 402 0 0 2 coachbuilder 506 0 0 Bills contracted at Cambridtch 2193 6 8 Sundries 987 10 0 ------------ L 14069 8 5
I give this as a curosity--pipple doan't know how in many casesfashnabble life is carried on; and to know even what a real gnlmn OWESis somethink instructif and agreeable.
But to my tail. The very day after my master had made the inquiriesconcerning Mr. Dawkins, witch I mentioned already, he met Mr. Blewitt onthe stairs; and byoutiffle it was to see how this gnlmn, who had beforebeen almost cut by my master, was now received by him. One ofthe sweetest smiles I ever saw was now vizzable on Mr. Deuceace'scountenance. He held out his hand, covered with a white kid glove, andsaid, in the most frenly tone of vice posbill, "What! Mr. Blewitt? It isan age since we met. What a shame that such near naybors should see eachother so seldom!"
Mr. Blewitt, who was standing at his door, in a pe-green dressing-gown,smoakin a segar, and singing a hunting coarus, looked surprised,flattered, and then suspicious.
"Why, yes," says he, "it is, Mr. Deuceace, a long time."
"Not, I think, since we dined at Sir George Hookey's. By-the-by, whatan evening that was--hay, Mr. Blewitt? What wine! what capital songs! Irecollect your 'May-day in the morning'--cuss me, the best comick songI ever heard. I was speaking to the Duke of Doncaster about it onlyyesterday. You know the duke, I think?"
Mr. Blewitt said, quite surly, "No, I don't."
"Not know him!" cries master; "why, hang it, Blewitt! he knows YOU; asevery sporting man in England does, I should think. Why, man, your goodthings are in everybody's mouth at Newmarket."
And so master went on chaffin Mr. Blewitt. That genlmn at fust answeredhim quite short and angry: but, after a little more flummery, he grew aspleased as posbill, took in all Deuceace's flatry, and bleeved allhis lies. At last the door shut, and they both went into Mr. Blewitt'schambers together.
Of course I can't say what past there; but in an hour master kem up tohis own room as yaller as mustard, and smellin sadly of backo smoke. Inever see any genmln more sick than he was; HE'D BEEN SMOAKIN SEAGARSalong with Blewitt. I said nothink, in course, tho I'd often heard himxpress his horrow of backo, and knew very well he would as soon swallowpizon as smoke. But he wasn't a chap to do a thing without a reason: ifhe'd been smoakin, I warrant he had smoked to some porpus.
I didn't hear the convysation betwean 'em; but Mr. Blewitt's man did:it was,--"Well, Mr. Blewitt, what capital seagars! Have you one fora friend to smoak?" (The old fox, it wasn't only the SEAGARS he wasa-smoakin!) "Walk in," says Mr. Blewitt; and they began a chaffintogether; master very ankshous about the young gintleman who had cometo live in our chambers, Mr. Dawkins, and always coming back to thatsubject,--saying that people on the same stairkis ot to be frenly; howglad he'd be, for his part, to know Mr. Dick Blewitt, and ANY FRIEND OFHIS, and so on. Mr. Dick, howsever, seamed quite aware of the traplaid for him. "I really don't know this Dawkins," says he: "he's achismonger's son, I hear; and tho I've exchanged visits with him, Idoan't intend to continyou the acquaintance,--not wishin to assoshatewith that kind of pipple." So they went on, master fishin, and Mr.Blewitt not wishin to take the hook at no price.
"Confound the vulgar thief!" muttard my master, as he was laying on hissophy, after being so very ill; "I've poisoned myself with his infernaltobacco, and he has foiled me. The cursed swindling boor! he thinkshe'll ruin this poor Cheese-monger, does he? I'll step in, and WARNhim."
I thought I should bust a-laffin, when he talked in this style. I knewvery well what his "warning" meant,--lockin the stable-door but stealinthe hoss fust.
Next day, his strattygam for becoming acquainted with Mr. Dawkins weexicuted; and very pritty it was.
Besides potry and the flute, Mr. Dawkins, I must tell you, had someother parshallities--wiz., he was very fond of good eatin and drinkin.After doddling over his music and boox all day, this young genlmn usedto sally out of evenings, dine sumptiously at a tavern, drinkin allsorts of wine along with his friend Mr. Blewitt. He was a quiet youngfellow enough at fust; but it was Mr. B. who (for his own porpuses, nodoubt,) had got him into this kind of life. Well, I needn't say that hewho eats a fine dinner, and drinks too much overnight, wants a bottleof soda-water, and a gril, praps, in the morning. Such was Mr. Dawkinsescase; and reglar almost as twelve o'clock came, the waiter from "DixCoffy-House" was to be seen on our stairkis, bringing up Mr. D.'s hotbreakfast.
No man would have thought there was anythink in such a triflingcirkumstance; master did, though, and pounced upon it like a cock on abarlycorn.
He sent me out to Mr. Morell's in Pickledilly, for wot's called aStrasbug-pie--in French, a "patty defau graw." He takes a card, andnails it on the outside case (patty defaw graws come generally in around wooden box, like a drumb); and what do you think he writes on it?why, as follos:--"For the Honorable Algernon Percy Deuceace, &c. &c. &c.With Prince Talleyrand's compliments."
Prince Tallyram's complimints, indeed! I laff when I think of it, still,the old surpint! He WAS a surpint, that Deuceace, and no mistake.
Well, by a most extrornary piece of ill-luck, the nex day punctiallyas Mr. Dawkinses brexfas was coming UP the stairs, Mr. Halgernon PercyDeuceace was going DOWN. He was as gay as a lark, humming an Oppra tune,and twizzting round his head his hevy gold-headed cane. Down he wentvery fast, and by a most unlucky axdent struck his cane against thewaiter's tray, and away went Mr. Dawkinses gril, kayann, kitchup,soda-water and all! I can't think how my master should have choas suchan exact time; to be sure, his windo looked upon the court, and he couldsee every one who came into our door.
As soon as the axdent had took place, master was in such a rage as, tobe sure, no man ever was in befor; he swoar at the waiter in the mostdreddfle way; he threatened him with his stick, and it was only when hesee that the waiter was rayther a bigger man than hisself that he wasin the least pazzyfied. He returned to his own chambres; and John, thewaiter, went off for more gril to Dixes Coffy-house.
"This is a most unlucky axdent, to be sure, Charles," says master to me,after a few minits paws, during witch he had been and wrote a note,put it into an anvelope, and sealed it with his big seal of arms. "Butstay--a thought strikes me--take this note to Mr. Dawkins, and that pyeyou brought yesterday; and hearkye, you scoundrel, if you say where yougot it I will break every bone in your skin!"
These kind of promises were among the few which I knew him to keep: andas I loved boath my skinn and my boans, I carried the noat, and of corssaid nothink. Waiting in Mr. Dawkinses chambus for a few minnits, Ireturned to my master with an anser. I may as well give both of thesedocumence, of which I happen to have taken coppies:
I.
THE HON. A. P. DEUCEACE TO T. S. DAWKINS, ESQ.
"TEMPLE, Tuesday.
"
Mr. DEUCEACE presents his compliments to Mr. Dawkins, and begs at the same time to offer his most sincere apologies and regrets for the accident which has just taken place.
"May Mr. Deuceace be allowed to take a neighbor's privilege, and to remedy the evil he has occasioned to the best of his power if Mr. Dawkins will do him the favor to partake of the contents of the accompanying case (from Strasbourg direct, and the gift of a friend, on whose taste as a gourmand Mr. Dawkins may rely), perhaps he will find that it is not a bad substitute for the plat which Mr. Deuceace's awkwardness destroyed.
"It will also, Mr. Deuceace is sure, be no small gratification to the original donor of the 'pate', when he learns that it has fallen into the hands of so celebrated a bon vivant as Mr. Dawkins.
"T. S. DAWKINS, Esq., &c. &c. &c."
II.
FROM T. S. DAWKINS, ESQ., TO THE HON. A. P. DEUCEACE.
"MR. THOMAS SMITH DAWKINS presents his grateful compliments to the Hon. Mr. Deuceace, and accepts with the greatest pleasure Mr. Deuceace's generous proffer.
"It would be one of the HAPPIEST MOMENTS of Mr. Smith Dawkins's life, if the Hon. Mr. Deuceace would EXTEND HIS GENEROSITY still further, and condescend to partake of the repast which his MUNIFICENT POLITENESS has furnished.
"TEMPLE, Tuesday."
Many and many a time, I say, have I grin'd over these letters, whichI had wrote from the original by Mr. Bruffy's copyin clark. Deuceace'sflam about Prince Tallyram was puffickly successful. I saw young Dawkinsblush with delite as he red the note; he toar up for or five sheetsbefore he composed the answer to it, which was as you red abuff, androat in a hand quite trembling with pleasyer. If you could but have seenthe look of triumph in Deuceace's wicked black eyes, when he read thenoat! I never see a deamin yet, but I can phansy 1, a holding a writhingsoal on his pitchfrock, and smilin like Deuceace. He dressed himself inhis very best clothes, and in he went, after sending me over to say thathe would except with pleasyour Mr. Dawkins's invite.
The pie was cut up, and a most frenly conversation begun betwixt the twogenlmin. Deuceace was quite captivating. He spoke to Mr. Dawkins inthe most respeckful and flatrin manner,--agread in every think hesaid,--prazed his taste, his furniter, his coat, his classick nolledge,and his playin on the floot; you'd have thought, to hear him, that sucha polygon of exlens as Dawkins did not breath,--that such a modist,sinsear, honrabble genlmn as Deuceace was to be seen nowhere xceptin Pump Cort. Poor Daw was complitly taken in. My master said he'dintroduce him to the Duke of Doncaster, and heaven knows how many nobsmore, till Dawkins was quite intawsicated with pleasyour. I know as afac (and it pretty well shows the young genlmn's carryter), that he wentthat very day and ordered 2 new coats, on porpos to be introjuiced tothe lords in.
But the best joak of all was at last. Singin, swagrin, and swarink--upstares came Mr. Dick Blewitt. He flung opn Mr. Dawkins's door, shoutingout, "Daw my old buck, how are you?" when, all of a sudden, he sees Mr.Deuceace: his jor dropt, he turned chocky white, and then burnin red,and looked as if a stror would knock him down. "My dear Mr. Blewitt,"says my master, smilin and offring his hand, "how glad I am to see you.Mr. Dawkins and I were just talking about your pony! Pray sit down."
Blewitt did; and now was the question, who should sit the other out; butlaw bless you! Mr. Blewitt was no match for my master: all the time hewas fidgetty, silent, and sulky; on the contry, master was charmin.I never herd such a flo of conversatin, or so many wittacisms as heuttered. At last, completely beat, Mr. Blewitt took his leaf; thatinstant master followed him; and passin his arm through that of Mr.Dick, led him into our chambers, and began talkin to him in the mostaffabl and affeckshnat manner.
But Dick was too angry to listen; at last, when master was telling himsome long story about the Duke of Doncaster, Blewitt burst out--
"A plague on the Duke of Doncaster! Come, come, Mr. Deuceace, don'tyou be running your rigs upon me; I ain't the man to be bamboozl'd bylong-winded stories about dukes and duchesses. You think I don't knowyou; every man knows you and your line of country. Yes, you're afteryoung Dawkins there, and think to pluck him; but you shan't,--no,by ---- you shan't." (The reader must recklect that the oaths whichinterspussed Mr. B.'s convysation I have left out.) Well, after he'dfired a wolley of 'em, Mr. Deuceace spoke as cool as possbill.
"Hark ye, Blewitt. I know you to be one of the most infernal thieves andscoundrels unhung. If you attempt to hector with me, I will cane you; ifyou want more, I'll shoot you; if you meddle between me and Dawkins, Iwill do both. I know your whole life, you miserable swindler and coward.I know you have already won two hundred pounds of this lad, and wantall. I will have half, or you never shall have a penny." It's quite truethat master knew things; but how was the wonder.
I couldn't see Mr. B.'s face during this dialogue, bein on the wrongside of the door; but there was a considdrable paws after thusecomplymints had passed between the two genlmn,--one walkin quickly upand down the room--tother, angry and stupid, sittin down, and stampinwith his foot.
"Now listen to this, Mr. Blewitt," continues master at last. "If you'requiet, you shall have half this fellow's money: but venture to win ashilling from him in my absence, or without my consent, and you do it atyour peril."
"Well, well, Mr. Deuceace," cries Dick, "it's very hard, and I must say,not fair: the game was of my startin, and you've no right to interferewith my friend."
"Mr. Blewitt, you are a fool! You professed yesterday not to know thisman, and I was obliged to find him out for myself. I should like to knowby what law of honor I am bound to give him up to you?"
It was charmin to hear this pair of raskles talkin about HONOR. Ideclare I could have found it in my heart to warn young Dawkins of theprecious way in which these chaps were going to serve him. But if THEYdidn't know what honor was, I did; and never, never did I tell tailsabout my masters when in their sarvice--OUT, in cors, the hobligation isno longer binding.
Well, the nex day there was a gran dinner at our chambers. White soop,turbit, and lobstir sos; saddil of Scoch muttn, grous, and M'Arony;wines, shampang, hock, maderia, a bottle of poart, and ever so manyof clarrit. The compny presint was three; wiz., the Honrabble A. P.Deuceace, R. Blewitt, and Mr. Dawkins, Exquires. My i, how we genlmn inthe kitchin did enjy it. Mr. Blewittes man eat so much grous (when itwas brot out of the parlor), that I reely thought he would be sik; Mr.Dawkinses genlmn (who was only abowt 13 years of age) grew so il withM'Arony and plumb-puddn, as to be obleeged to take sefral of Mr. D's.pils, which 1/2 kild him. But this is all promiscuous: I an't talkin ofthe survants now, but the masters.
Would you bleeve it? After dinner and praps 8 bottles of wine betweenthe 3, the genlm sat down to ecarty. It's a game where only 2 plays, andwhere, in coarse, when there's only 3, one looks on.
Fust, they playd crown pints, and a pound the bett. At this game theywere wonderful equill; and about supper-time (when grilled am, moreshampang, devld biskits, and other things, was brot in) the play stoodthus: Mr. Dawkins had won 2 pounds; Mr. Blewitt 30 shillings; theHonrabble Mr. Deuceace having lost 3L. l0s. After the devvle and theshampang the play was a little higher. Now it was pound pints, and fivepound the bet. I thought, to be sure, after hearing the complymintsbetween Blewitt and master in the morning, that now poor Dawkins's timewas come.
Not so: Dawkins won always, Mr. B. betting on his play, and giving himthe very best of advice. At the end of the evening (which was abowt fiveo'clock the nex morning) they stopt. Master was counting up the skore ona card.
"Blewitt," says he, "I've been unlucky. I owe you, let me see--yes,five-and-forty pounds?"
"Five-and-forty," says Blewitt, "and no mistake!"
"I will give you a cheque," says the honrabble genlmn.
"Oh! don't mention it, my dear sir!" But master got a grate sheetof paper, and drew him a check on Messeers. Pump, Algit and Co., hisbankers.
"Now," says master, "I've got to settle with you, my dear Mr. Dawkins.If you had backd your luck,
I should have owed you a very handsome sumof money. Voyons, thirteen points at a pound--it is easy to calculate;"and drawin out his puss, he clinked over the table 13 goolden suverings,which shon till they made my eyes wink.
So did pore Dawkinses, as he put out his hand, all trembling, and drewthem in.
"Let me say," added master, "let me say (and I've had some littleexperience), that you are the very best ecarte player with whom I eversat down."
Dawkinses eyes glissened as he put the money up, and said, "Law,Deuceace, you flatter me."
FLATTER him! I should think he did. It was the very think which masterment.
"But mind you, Dawkins," continyoud he, "I must have my revenge; for I'mruined--positively ruined by your luck."
"Well, well," says Mr. Thomas Smith Dawkins, as pleased as if he hadgained a millium, "shall it be to-morrow? Blewitt, what say you?"
Mr. Blewitt agreed, in course. My master, after a little demurring,consented too. "We'll meet," says he, "at your chambers. But mind, mydear fello, not too much wine: I can't stand it at any time, especiallywhen I have to play ecarte with YOU."
Pore Dawkins left our rooms as happy as a prins. "Here, Charles," sayshe, and flung me a sovring. Pore fellow! pore fellow! I knew what wasa-comin!
But the best of it was, that these 13 sovrings which Dawkins won, MASTERHAD BORROWED THEM FROM MR. BLEWITT! I brought 'em, with 7 more, fromthat young genlmn's chambers that very morning: for, since his interviewwith master, Blewitt had nothing to refuse him.
Well, shall I continue the tail? If Mr. Dawkins had been the least bitwiser, it would have taken him six months befoar he lost his money; asit was, he was such a confunded ninny, that it took him a very shorttime to part with it.
Nex day (it was Thursday, and master's acquaintance with Mr. Dawkinshad only commenced on Tuesday), Mr. Dawkins, as I said, gev hisparty,--dinner at 7. Mr. Blewitt and the two Mr. D.'s as befoar. Playbegins at 11. This time I knew the bisness was pretty serious, forwe suvvants was packed off to bed at 2 o'clock. On Friday, I went tochambers--no master--he kem in for 5 minutes at about 12, made a littletoilit, ordered more devvles and soda-water, and back again he went toMr. Dawkins's.
They had dinner there at 7 again, but nobody seamed to eat, for all thevittles came out to us genlmn: they had in more wine though, and musthave drunk at least two dozen in the 36 hours.
At ten o'clock, however, on Friday night, back my master came to hischambers. I saw him as I never saw him before, namly reglar drunk. Hestaggered about the room, he danced, he hickipd, he swoar, he flung mea heap of silver, and, finely, he sunk down exosted on his bed; I pullinoff his boots and close, and making him comfrabble.
When I had removed his garmints, I did what it's the duty of everyservant to do--I emtied his pockits, and looked at his pockit-book andall his letters: a number of axdents have been prevented that way.
I found there, among a heap of things, the following pretty dockyment--
I. O. U. L 4700. THOMAS SMITH DAWKINS. Friday, 16th January.
There was another bit of paper of the same kind--"I. 0. U. four hundredpounds: Richard Blewitt:" but this, in corse, ment nothink.
. . . . . .
Nex mornin, at nine, master was up, and as sober as a judg. He drest,and was off to Mr. Dawkins. At ten, he ordered a cab, and the twogentlmn went together.
"Where shall he drive, sir?" says I.
"Oh, tell him to drive to THE BANK."
Pore Dawkins! his eyes red with remors and sleepliss drunkenniss, gave ashudder and a sob, as he sunk back in the wehicle; and they drove on.
That day he sold out every hapny he was worth, xcept five hundredpounds.
. . . . . .
Abowt 12 master had returned, and Mr. Dick Blewitt came stridin up thestairs with a sollum and important hair.
"Is your master at home?" says he.
"Yes, sir," says I; and in he walks. I, in coars, with my ear to thekeyhole, listning with all my mite.
"Well," says Blewitt, "we maid a pretty good night of it, Mr. Deuceace.Yu've settled, I see, with Dawkins."
"Settled!" says master. "Oh, yes--yes--I've settled with him."
"Four thousand seven hundred, I think?"
"About that--yes."
"That makes my share--let me see--two thousand three hundred and fifty;which I'll thank you to fork out."
"Upon my word--why--Mr. Blewitt," says master, "I don't reallyunderstand what you mean."
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I MEAN!" says Blewitt, in an axent such as I neverbefore heard. "You don't know what I mean! Did you not promise me thatwe were to go shares? Didn't I lend you twenty sovereigns the othernight to pay our losings to Dawkins? Didn't you swear, on your honor asa gentleman, to give me half of all that might be won in this affair?"
"Agreed, sir," says Deuceace; "agreed."
"Well, sir, and now what have you to say?"
"Why, THAT I DON'T INTEND TO KEEP MY PROMISE! You infernal fool andninny! do you suppose I was laboring for YOU? Do you fancy I was goingto the expense of giving a dinner to that jackass yonder, thatyou should profit by it? Get away, sir! Leave the room, sir! Or,stop--here--I will give you four hundred pounds--your own note of hand,sir, for that sum, if you will consent to forget all that has passedbetween us, and that you have never known Mr. Algernon Deuceace."
I've seen pipple angery before now, but never any like Blewitt. Hestormed, groaned, belloed, swoar! At last, he fairly began blubbring;now cussing and nashing his teeth, now praying dear Mr. Deuceace togrant him mercy.
At last, master flung open the door (heaven bless us! it's well I didn'ttumble hed over eels into the room!), and said, "Charles, show thegentleman down stairs!" My master looked at him quite steddy. Blewittslunk down, as misrabble as any man I ever see. As for Dawkins, heavenknows where he was!
. . . . . .
"Charles," says my master to me, about an hour afterwards, "I'm going toParis; you may come, too, if you please."
The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Page 5
