by R S Surtees
“I am obliged to the chair for interposing so promptly on my behalf,” observed Mr. Slooman, bowing very obsequiously; “interruptions so coarse, so unmanly, so unseemly, only recoil upon the brainless head that makes them.”
“Ay, ay!” grunted Pigg; “ar’ll sarve ye out e-now!” clutching his oaken staff as he spoke.
“Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” resumed Mr. Slooman, returning again to his paper, “I was saying, when that stupid blockhead interrupted me, that my first experiment was with an acre of globe-turnips, with one hundred pounds’ of guano, upon ten single-horse cart-loads of farmyard manure, which produced twenty-two tons of turnips when weighed in December; while upon a second acre of the same land, with twenty single-horse cart-loads of the same farmyard manure, without guano, I only got fourteen tons.”
“Muck’s your man! for all that,” exclaimed Pigg.
“There again!” started Mr. Slooman, laying down his paper and throwing out both hands, “am I, Mr. Chairman,” continued he, addressing the President, “am I to be protected in the gratuitous performance of a public duty, or am I” —— —
“Who is it makes that noise?” asked the Chairman, for he could not see for the smoke.
“Gan on, ard ‘un! gan on!” exclaimed Pigg; “there’s nebody fashin’ ye!”
“That Pigg’s drunk,” observed Mr. Jorrocks aloud to himself, as he at the port again.
Mr. Slooman again essayed to proceed.
“A third acre of Swedish turnips, gentlemen,” continued he, “with two hundred pounds of guano, mixed with four bushels of sifted house-ashes, produced fourteen tons; while an acre adjoining the above, with twenty-five single-horse cart-loads of the farmyard manure, produced only ten tons sixteen hundredweight.
“That’s a Ice!” roared Pigg. “MUCK’S YOUR MAN!” repeated he, louder than ever.
Mr. Slooman dropped his hands, and stood transfixed. Laughter, groans, hisses, and all sorts of discordant noises prevailed, mingled with the Chairman’s cries of “Order! order!” and a few exclamations of “Turn him out, turn him out!”
“Ay, torn him out!” roared Pigg. “Torn him out!” repeated he, thinking they meant the Chairman; “and ar’ll come and sit up there, and sing ye a sang,” added he.
“Really, gentlemen, this noise and interruption is very indecorous,” observed the Chairman, rising as soon as the uproar began to subside. “If it is not the pleasure of the meeting to hear the reverend gentleman, I am” —
“Raverend!” roared Pigg. “Ar’ll give ye a raverend toast: ar’ll give ye,’Mair pigs and fewer parsons!’”(Roars of laughter.) —
“Who is it that makes that disturbance?” again demanded the Chairman.
“‘OLD YOUR NOISE, JAMIES PIGG!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, rising, and speaking as loud as he could; an order that had the effect of restoring silence on the instant. James couched behind the flower-stand.
Mr. Slooman stood in expectation of some reprimand from the Chairman on the offender; but the former seemed satisfied with the restoration of silence, and Mr. Slooman again proceeded, and exhausted half-an-hour in a disquisition on the miraculous qualities of guano, which, in his opinion, beat everything else out of the field.
Pigg kept up a sort of running commentary on Mr. Slooman’s observations, sufficiently low, however, not to reach his master’s ears.
The next incident of the evening was the appearance of Mr. Wopstraw, who, at the earnest request of many admiring friends in his neighbourhood, rose to acquaint the company with the result of his experience in the article of guano. Mr. Wopstraw was still attired in the costume of the morning, drab greatcoat and drab overalls, then worn, as he said, to keep the heat out, and now retained perhaps to keep the smoke out. Under them appeared a respectable black coat and waistcoat, with drab breeches; and he had a snuff-coloured bandanna round his neck. Mr. Wopstraw was considered a very safe man — one that never did anything without due consideration, and who weighed the pros and cons of everything in his mind. His rising caused an outburst of applause.
“Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” said he, plastering his straggling hair flat over his head with his hand— “Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” repeated he, “I have heard what the Reverend Mr. Slooman has told about the guano, but as I’ve used some myself, upon the wh-o-o-le I think I may say he’s not altogether right. He thinks little of foldyard manure compared to it; but, upon the wh-o-o-le, I think, guano and foldyard mixed is the thing.”
“Ay, ay,” said Pigg, “that’s mair like the ticket.”
“I had some turnips,” continued Wopstraw, “sown with guano alone, and some with foldyard manure, and, upon the wh-o-o-le, I should say the guano took the lead at starting, and kept it well to September, when the foldyard began to tell, and came on when the flush of t’other was over.”
“Muck’s your man!” again roared Pigg.
“Therefore, upon the wh-o-o-le,” concluded Wopstraw, “I should say guano was a good thing for setting turnips a-going; but you should have muck, as that gentleman calls it, to come up when the effect of t’other is over.” Mr. Wopstraw resumed his seat amid considerable applause.
Mr. Smith now rose to perform a duty in giving a toast that ought to have been given at an earlier period of the evening, namely, that of the health of their worthy Chairman, to whom they and the country in general were under so many obligations, not only for the honour he invariably did them of presiding at their annual meetings, but for the very exemplary manner in which he discharged every duty of a country gentleman. (Drunk with three times three, and one cheer more.)
The Chairman returned thanks with his usual felicity. He then called upon Mr. Hogger to detail the result of his experiments with nitrate of soda as a manure, which that gentleman did with great perspicuity on various crops — oats, grass, barley, wheat, &c.
Shortly after he sat down, and some of the company were beginning to look at their watches to see how much longer they might sit, when the Secretary was observed to proceed, with an air of importance and mystery, to the Chairman, with a paper in his hand, on which they held a conference for some seconds. The Chairman rose to address the meeting.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “at an earlier period of the day I had the honour of proposing two toasts for your acceptance — one, ‘The health of the Successful Candidates,’ the other, ‘The health of the Unsuccessful Candidates on the present occasion.’ Since then our able Secretary has discovered that we have placed a distinguished stranger in a false position — a position that it affords me, as I feel certain it will you, the liveliest satisfaction to rectify.”
“Vot’s all that about?” said Mr. Jorrocks, pricking his ears.
“You will perhaps remember, gentlemen,” continued the Chairman, “that the premium for the best bull was said to be awarded to Mr. Johnson; and perhaps it may have struck you, as it certainly did me, as rather singular that the taker of the first prize, neither in person nor by proxy, returned thanks for the compliment.”
“Werry true,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, who had observed nothing of the sort.
“That circumstance is now explained by the recent discovery,” continued the Chairman. “The bull, it appears, was known to the judges as Mr. Jobson’s bull.”
“Mine, for a guinea!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks.
“The prize was unanimously awarded to him,” continued the Chairman.
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks; “hurrah!”
“What’s thou hurrain’ for?” roared Pigg. “Thy name’s not Jobson.”
“But the Secretary in writing the name down, amid the hurry and pressure of the crowd, it seems, wrote it Johnson instead of Jobson. Now, Mr. Jobson, as many of the present meeting are aware, is the farm-steward of his Grace the Duke of Donkeyton — the intimate ally of my honourable friend, if he will allow me so to call him, on my left,” observed the Chairman, turning to Mr. Jorrocks.
“Certainly!” replied Mr. Jorrocks. “Certainly!” repeated he.
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p; “Among other flattering, honourable, and I am sure I may add well-deserved, marks of distinction conferred by his Grace on my honourable friend, was that of making him a present of this bull.” —
“Quite true,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, “quite true. The Duke gave me it: ‘ighest compliment he could pay me.”
“And therefore, gentlemen,” continued the Chairman, “not to trouble you with the particulars of a story whose conclusion you have doubtless anticipated, I have to beg that you will join me in rectifying the unintentional error of our Secretary, by receiving the name of Mr. Jorrocks as a successful competitor on this occasion, with such bumpers and such acclamations as will testify our sincere delight at - his well-merited success, and will soothe, at the same time, the feelings of mortification he must have suffered at the late erroneous announcement.” The Chairman concluded by drinking Mr. Jorrocks’s health in a bumper, with three times three, amidst great applause.
“Your good health, Mr. Jorrocks!”
“Your good health, Mr. Jorrocks!”— “Your good health, Mr. Jorrocks!” then flew at our worthy friend, like arrows at a target, from all parts of the tent; and the Chairman having drained off his glass, stood forward to mark the time. Three times three and one hearty cheer more were thundered forth with tremendous effect. Mr. Jorrocks sat nursing a leg, and bowing his head like a Chinese monster on a chimney-piece.
“Now for an o-ra-tion!” exclaimed Pigg, as silence gradually prevailed, and our friend let down the leg preparatory to rising.
“Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, rising, and waving his hand for silence, “I should, indeed, be unworthy the name of a true-born Briton if I didn’t confess that this unexpected honour has completely unmanned me (applause). Gentlemen, I haven’t the wanity to suppose that the enthusiastic reception you have given the name of John Jorrocks is attributable to any ‘umble merits of mine, but simply paid me as the owner of that able and distinguished ball, the Markis o’ Bray (applause). In the name of that able, that amiable, that magnificent quadruped, I return you the most ‘artfelt thanks (loud applause); would that he could speak and do it himself! But believe me, gentlemen, the Markis’s master’s ‘art is a bustin’ with gratitude for the kindness you have shown the Markis. You have conferred on him the ïghest honour a ‘igh-bred ball can attain — awarded him the first prize. Oh! but it was a noble act, and nobly has that ball deserved it! Gentlemen, excuse my sayin’ more, my feelin’s overpower me. As my friend, Tarquinius Brown, of Friday Street, sublimely sings —
‘If ever fondest prayer for other’s weal awailed on ‘igh, Mine shall not all be lost in hair, but waft thy name above the sky.’
So shall my best wishes, and the best wishes of my ball, waft your names into the attics o’ the hupper regions o’ the sky” (great applause). Mr. Jorrocks resumed his seat, apparently overcome by his feelings, amidst loud cheers. Presently he arose, and spoke as follows:—” Mr. Chairman, with your permission I’ll give a toast — a toast that will find its way ‘ome to the ‘arts of you all, without any soft sawder from me. It is the ‘ealth of one most jestly dear to me — dear in every pint of view, but bound in stronger union by the result of this day’s show. Oh! it’s a proud thing to carry off the prize in the manner my ball has done, beatin’ every ball in the country, from the Prime Minister’s down’ards.”
“Ay, ay,” grunted Pigg, adding to himself, “thou’d best say nowt about that.”
“But oh! gentlemen! gentlemen! you’ve got no liquor!” continued Mr. Jorrocks, looking about him and holding up his own empty bottle. “Here, waiter!” roared he; “you man in the shirt-sleeves!” added he, hollaing to the landlord, who, coatless, had come in with a basket to gather the empty bottles; “fatch in a dozen of your strongest military port, and let me have the ‘ealth of my ball drank as it ought to be.”
“Ay!” roared Pigg; “and fetch me a bottle o’ roum!” adding, “wine’s o’er strang for mar stommack.”
“Yes, sir,” exclaimed the landlord, hurrying off to execute the order, or as much of it as the state of his cellar would allow.
Presently the drawing of corks was heard, and the bottles began to be scattered down the table; Pigg’s rum, too, made its appearance; and master and man seeing to the charging of their friends, the bull’s health was drunk amidst tremendous applause.
Mr. Jorrocks then tried to let off the speech he spoke of as having prepared, but the day was too far gone, and it hung fire; so after a few unsuccessful efforts, he resumed his seat amidst loud cheers. The Chairman having proposed “The health of the gentlemen who had so ably performed the difficult and delicate duty of awarding the premiums,” as also “The health of the Secretary and Committee of Management,” shortly after withdrew; and, on the motion of Mr. Nobody, Mr. Jorrocks took the chair — Pigg placing himself as vice.
“The health of the bull” was then drunk again, Mr. Jorrocks ordering the necessary supplies, and returning thanks as before. Many other toasts followed.
Captain Bluster at last rose to propose Mr. Jorrocks’s health in another capacity, namely, that of a magistrate. The Captain’s articulation was now rather thick, and he spoke as if his tongue were a size too large for his mouth; his eyes, too, looked glassy and queer.
Mr. Jorrocks again rose to return thanks, labouring as he was under the influence of his old friend the hiccup.
“Captain (hiccup) Bluster, and (hiccup) gen’lmen,” said he, rising, and lurching considerably as he attempted to take hold of his glass, “this is the proudest (hiccup) moment of my (hiccup) life. (Cheers.) I feel considerably obligated to my friend the (hiccup) Captain for the considerable (hiccup) compliments he has (hiccup) paid me as a beak. I believe I may say that there is not a more (hiccup) independent one on the (hiccup) bench. Some, p’raps, may know a little more (hiccup) law, more (hiccup) Coke upon (hiccup) Littleton (hiccup), pig upon (hiccup) bacon, or whatever you call the (hiccup) thing; but for real substantial (hiccup) jastice such as our (hiccup) forefathers used to (hiccup) out, there is none like John (hiccup) Jorrocks. Before I (hiccup) down,” continued he, looking very wise, “let me propose a (hiccup) toast, the health of a (hiccup) gen’lman second only to (hiccup) Wellington in arms, and (hiccup) Lyndhurst in law — my (hiccup) friend Captain (hiccup) Bluster; I dare say (hiccup) Waterloo was as much gained by him (hiccup) as by any (hiccup) else. ‘Captain Bluster’s good (hiccup) health,’” concluded Mr. Jorrocks, draining his glass preparatory to resuming what he thought was his seat, but in reality a vacuum, which had the effect of sending him neck and croup through the back of the tent, just as a clown disappears in a pantomime.
“God sink! t’ard man’ll be lamin’ hissel!” exclaimed Pigg, jumping up as he saw his master’s heels disappear above the level of the table.
CHAPTER XXX.
OH, CRUEL WAS the justice that took my love from me.”
WE have to apologise to our, or Mr. Jorrocks’s noble friend, the Marquis of Bray, for the very unceremonious way we have left him during the last three chapters, dripping in his woman’s attire over Mrs. Flather’s fire, after the fair Emma disappeared on the announcement of who he was. It is difficult, in novel-writing, to drive the two parts of the story (into which all orthodox three-volume ones should be divided) like phaeton horses, and prevent one part outstepping the other, and at this point our farmer friend has shot considerably ahead of the ladies. “We have got them no further than where the Marquis of Bray becomes the unconscious guest of the equally unconscious Mrs. Flather, after his midnight ramble on escaping from Mr. Heavytail’s harvest-home ball, whither he had been seduced by the Cockney Highlander, Mr. Jorrocks.
Before Mrs. Flather and the Marquis had got the matter explained, and his lordship removed from the kitchen into the parlour, and the fire resuscitated, the fair Emma returned, very unlike the Emma that had run away. In lieu of the common drawn and frilled nightcap she had on when she left, she appeared in a fine embroidered muslin one, trimmed with Valenciennes la
ce, and tied with a blue ribbon; while her swelling bust and rounded figure were well set off by a blue and white foulard wrapping gown, trimmed and tied down the front with blue ribbons, and a cape trimmed with plaiting of the same coloured ribbon, open cotton stockings, and blue velvet slippers, trimmed with swan’s down.
The Marquis was then invested in the flannel dressing-gown Emma had discarded, in lieu of his drenched and tattered silk, as also a pair of Emma’s white worsted stockings, and her second-best slippers; and having got himself tolerably comfortable, Emma and he seated themselves before the now brightly burning fire, while Mrs. Flather fussed for the keys of the cellaret, and drew on a pair of stockings and other little articles of female attire, now rendered more necessary in consequence of the midnight visitor having changed her sex. The fire burnt cheerfully, the room was warm and comfortable, and as the Marquis rolled about in his easy chair by the side of the smiling, pretty Emma, he forgot all the troubles he had passed — all the toads, all the sows, all the clowns, all the dogs, all the guns. Emma and he laughed, and smiled, and looked sweet at each other, until Mrs. Flather’s propriety could no longer delay appearing with the sherry and water, but she soon took her departure for the purpose of seeing about the Marquis’s bed. Emma did her best; she had tact of a certain order, which, if it did not amount to cleverness, was quite enough for an occasion like the present. There is no time, perhaps, when the soft blandishments of the fair sex are more telling than after an exposure to the rude elements out of doors. Cold and passionless as Emma was, she had the art of pleasing, and the animation the incident inspired threw a natural air into her generally studied conduct; indeed, here there was no occasion for study or calculation. The question was not like one between James Blake and any other of her humbler suitors, where the present state and prospects of each required mature deliberation — there was no need of weighing or considering; the point was to secure the Marquis, and that too as quickly as possible. She did her utmost; whatever subject he touched upon she declared her devoted attachment to; music, painting, poetry, scenery, dancing, all were enthusiastically expatiated upon by her as he severally led them on the tapis, with occasionally little sly exclamations at the extraordinary similarity of their ideas: — Mrs. Flather, too, was struck at the coincidence; and declared, with more zeal than prudence, that they “really appeared to be made for each other.” The Marquis, however, was not one either to take fright or a hint, and they would have had to press him much closer before he would have understood them, at least in the light they intended. —
