by R S Surtees
“Why, there are reports, certainly,” stammered Mr. Jobson, finding the Duke was ignorant of the feeling of the county; “but I can’t trace them to any good authority.”
“What are they?” asked the Duke impatiently. “What are they?” repeated he.
“Why, I’ve heard that the farmers threaten an opposition,” faltered Mr. Jobson.
“Farmers threaten an opposition!” exclaimed the Duke. “That’s something new. That’ll not do, I think,” added he; “not against the Marquis of Bray, at least.”
“That’s what I think,” observed Mr. Jobson.
“Ridiculous!” observed the Duke; “monstrous ridiculous. We are popular, I suppose? monstrous popular?”
“Extremely popular,” replied Mr. Jobson; adding, “it would be very extraordinary if your Grace was not so.”
“Well, I think so too,” replied the Duke. “I think so too. But tell me, who do they talk of? Who do they talk of?”
“I have heard two or three named,” replied Mr. Jobson. “Captain Bluster, I think, seems the most likely man.”
“Bluster! Captain Bluster!” exclaimed the Duke. “Why, that’s the man with the whiskers on his chin — the man I made a magistrate of.”
“You did, your Grace,” replied Mr. Jobson.
“Impudent dog!” said the Duke to himself.
“I gave him a bull too!” added the Duke, after a pause. “No, your Grace — Mr. Jorrocks was the gentleman your Grace gave the bull to,” observed Mr. Jobson.
“True,” replied the Duke, “true — Jorrocks is the man I gave the bull to — Jorrocks is a good fellow — Jorrocks is a gentleman — Bluster’s a blackguard — Bluster’s a blackguard. Impudent fellow — monstrous impudent fellow.”
“Do you really think there’s any truth in it?” asked the Duke after a pause.
“Upon my word I don’t know, your Grace,” replied Mr.
Jobson, anxious to soothe, but hardly daring to deceive. “Upon my word I don’t know,” repeated Jobson. “We live in queer times, your Grace.”
“We do indeed,” replied the Duke—” we do indeed; that cursed Reform Bill turned the world upside down — always told Russell and Durham, and all of them, that they were going far too far. Well, it can’t be helped,” added he resignedly, after a pause— “it can’t be helped. If they prefer Bluster to Jeems, they must have Bluster.” So saying the Duke turned from the model farm in disgust, and, letting himself into the paik through the little green door in the wall, wandered musingly homeward, without doing Mrs. Jobson the honour of calling on her.
He had not been long gone ere the news arrived at the model farm that Mr. Jorrocks had acceded to the wishes of the farmers, and was about to declare himself for the county.
Anxious that the Duke should have the earliest information he could give him on so vital a point, Mr. Jobson ordered his hack to be saddled, and followed the line his Grace had taken across the park.
He soon overtook him.
“Your Grace!” exclaimed Mr. Jobson, reining up his thoroughbred, and taking off his hat. “Your Grace,” repeated he, “I’ve just heard that Mr. Jorrocks is the gentleman who’s coming forward for the county!”
“Mr. Jorrocks!” exclaimed the Duke; “Mr. Jorrocks! That’s the man with the whiskers on his chin.”
“No, your Grace,” replied Jobson; “the man with the bull; Bluster’s the man with the whiskers on his chin.”
“Ah, true!” exclaimed the Duke, “the man I gave the bull to. The man I made a magistrate of, eh?”
“Your Grace made magistrates of them both,” observed Jobson.
“So I did,” replied the Duke, “so I did. And do you say that that Jorrocks, the man I gave the bull to — the man who can’t speak English, is going to have the effrontery to oppose the Marquis of Bray?”
“So they say, your Grace. He’s the man they call the sleeping partner in Mother H’s,” added Jobson, with a grin — Jobson having a cross of the cockney himself.
“Audacious dog!” exclaimed the Duke. “Then it’s Jorrocks, not Bluster?” added his Grace, conning the matter over.
“Jorrocks, not Bluster,” replied Jobson, with an emphasis on Jorrocks.
“Ah, I thought it wouldn’t be Bluster,” observed the Duke. “Bluster’s a good fellow. Bluster’s a gentleman. Jorrocks is a blackguard! Jorrocks is a blackguard!”
Jobson stood silent by the side of his hack.
“It’s a nuisance,” said the Duke, after a long pause; “monstrous nuisance; may involve Jeems in a nasty beery canvass.”
“It may so, your Grace,” replied Mr. Jobson.
“Couldn’t we get rid of this man Jorrocks somehow?” suggested the Duke; “he’ll most likely have his price,” added he, thinking of Bowker and the thousand.
“We might try him,” replied Mr. Jobson..
“You might ride over and sound him,” said the Duke. “Put it to his good feeling not to annoy parties who have been so civil and condescending to him. Talk about the bull I gave him, the dinners he’s had here, the honours I’ve conferred upon him. Tell him I hope he’ll not give me cause to suppose I have fostered a viper in my bosom.”
“I will so, your Grace,” replied Mr. Jobson. “I’ll do all I can.”
“The sooner the better,” observed the Duke.
“I’ll go directly,” said Mr. Jobson, preparing to mount.
“Tell him he’s not fit for anything of the sort,” said the Duke, as Jobson mounted.
“I will, your Grace,” replied the obsequious Jobson.
“You might try him with a deputy lieutenantcy, if you can’t get rid of him without,” added the Duke, as Mr. Jobson bowed and rode away.
CHAPTER XLV.
OH, MONSTROUS BEAST! how like a swine he lies!”
TIRED with the exertions of a long day’s canvass, Mr. Jorrocks had seated himself in an easy chair, to enjoy a bottle of strong military port, of recent emancipation from the wood, when Mr. Jobson’s noisy peal at the bell threw him into alarm.
“Cuss them, ‘ere’s some more on ’em a comin’,” exclaimed he, bolting upright, half resolved not to be at home.
Please, sir, here’s Mr. Jobson, sir,” said Benjamin, opening the door.
“Mr. Jobson,” repeated Mr. Jorrocks. “Mr. Jobson! That’s the Duke of Donkeyton’s farm gentleman; show him in, and bring candles — wax un’s, you know, Binjimin;” adding, with a shake of the head, “expensive work this electioneerin’.”
Mr. Jobson came bowing and groping his way into the dining-room.
“‘Ow are you, my frind?” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, rising and greeting him with a shake of the hand. “Allow me to solicit the honour of your wote and interest?” added he, coming out with the usual form.
“I am afraid I can hardly give that,” replied Mr. Jobson, taking „ a proffered chair; “I’m afraid I can hardly do that — not but that I’m quite independent, do exactly as I like; only from what I read of your address, I fear your opinions and mine don’t exactly tally.”
“Humph” grunted Mr. Jorrocks. “Independence is a werry fine thing to talk about; but there’s precious little on’t in the world. The only real independence I knows on, is the independence of furnished lodgin’s, thick shoes, and a shootin’ jacket.”
Benjamin then entered with the candles.
“Take a glass o’ wine,” said Mr. Jorrocks, helping himself, and pushing the bottle to Jobson. “There’s sher,i’ the sideboard, if you prefer it, to blackstrap.”
Mr. Jobson preferred claret, if there was any out.
“Claret I never keeps,” replied Mr. Jorrocks. “Can soon make you some, though,” added he, “with water and winegar, and a little drop o’ port.” —
Mr. Jobson then took port.
Mr. Jorrocks drank Jobson’s health, and Jobson drank Mr. Jorrocks’s.
“Fine stuff that,” said Mr. Jorrocks, smacking his lips, after the glass of hot, sweet, fruity wine. “And ’ow goes on the farm?” asked he. “�
��Ope Mrs. Job and all the little Job’s are well?”
“Quite well, I’m much obliged to you,” replied Jobson.
“We’ll drink Mrs. Jobson’s ‘ealth,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, helping himself, and passing the bottle. —
Mr. Jobson presently returned the compliment, and proposed the health of Mrs. Jorrocks.
“We’ll now drink the ‘ealth of all the leetle Jobsons,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, in due time.
Mr. Jorrocks afterwards proposed the health of “The Queen and her stag’ounds,” and then of “Prince Albert and his beagles.” The glasses being large, another or two apiece finished the bottle. —
“Port!” said Mr. Jorrocks, as Benjamin answered the bell.
“I’ve now got a toast to propose,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, as the wine came, and he held the decanter up to the candle, to see that Benjamin had not done him out of any. “I’ve now got a toast to propose,” said he, “that I’m sure will find its way to your ‘eart, without any soft sawder from me” — (“Hear, hear,” exclaimed Mr. Jobson). “It is,” continued Mr. Jorrocks, “the ‘ealth of one both, near and dear to me — one wot occupies, wakin’ and sleepin’, an unkimmon portion o’ my thoughts. Oh!” continued he, aloud to himself, “the greatest pang wot I shall suffer in goin’ hup to Parliament will be the separation from that henergetic, that hamiable quad — I’ll give you,” said he, turning to Jobson, “the ‘ealth of my ball in a hamper!”
“Nay, fill hup!” said Mr. Jorrocks, as Jobson stopped half way up his glass. “A hamper to the ball, whatever you do!”
Mr. Jobson then filled, and drank as desired.
“He’s a fine animal,” observed Jobson, as, with a wry face, he set down his glass.
“He is that!” replied Mr. Jorrocks, “a real fine animal.”
“The Duke wouldn’t have given him to anybody but yourself,” observed Jobson.
“Vot, he was particular fond on him, was he?” asked Mr. Jorrocks.
“No, but he had such a high opinion of you,” observed Mr. Jobson.
“Don’t see why he should,” muttered Mr. Jorrocks aloud to himself, adding—” We’ll drink his Greece’s ‘ealth in a hamper,” filling his glass and passing the bottle.
“Nay! no skylights!” exclaimed he, as Jobson again shirked filling. Jobson then did as desired.
“The mention o’ that hinterestin’, that hamiable hanimal,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, as Jobson again accomplished his measure with a shrug, “reminds me of a most hamiable young gen’lman after whom he is called; one that I’m sure will emulate his ball lordship in his honourable career, and make their common name transcendently wictorious. I’ll give you the “ealth of the Marquis o’ Bray,’” added Mr. Jorrocks, again filling a bumper.
“I suppose you mean transcendently victorious in the coming contest,” observed Mr. Jobson, who did not altogether approve of the Marquis’s career among the ladies; particularly about home.
“I means, celebrated — distinguished,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, tapping the decanter to draw Jobson’s attention to his duties; adding, “come, drink your young master in a hamper.”
Jobson did not like this description of their relative positions; but fearing Mr. Jorrocks might say something more offensive, coolly submitted.
“Nay; no ‘eel-taps!” exclaimed our friend, seeing Mr. Jobson preparing to fill upon a half-emptied glass, adding —
“This is liberty ‘all, do as you will,
Fill wot you please, but drink wot you fill.”
“But you won’t let me do as I will,” observed Jobson tartly; “you will make me fill bumpers.”
“Bampers in course to toasts,” observed Mr. Jorrocks; “arter we’ve done drinkin’ toasts we shall come to the sentiments, and then you can do as you like, you know.”
“I wish we were at them,” thought the refined claretdrinking Jobson.
“In considerin’ the toasts we’ve already drank,” observed Mr. Jorrocks after a pause, during which Jobson had been arranging a plan of attack in his own mind, “I’m somewhat — that’s to say, a good deal flabbergasted to find that we’ve altogether omitted the name of a lady wot ranks werry ‘igh in the peerage of the kingdom, and the estimation of the county (hiccup). I’m cock sure I need say nothin’ to recommend that illustrious (hiccup) lady to your consideration, because livin’ under the family you’ll know a deal more about her nor me; but I should be werry (hiccup) sorry to have it (hiccup) said, that one of her servants and I should ‘ave passed a conwivial evening together, without so much as drinkin’ of her ‘ealth; I therefore beg to propose the ‘‘ealth of the (hiccup) Duchess of Donkey ton in a hamper.’”
“Oh dear,” groaned Jobson, with throbbing temples, as he shirked the filling. —
“Now, we’ll jest ‘ave another bottle,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, turning the bottom of that one into Jobson’s glass, so as to make him up a bumper, “and then we can drink good evenin’ in a glass of (hiccup) brandy and water or two,” added he, ringing the bell again.
“I’m afraid that will be trespassing too largely on your time,” observed Mr. Jobson.
“Time’s of no importance with me,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks, with an air of indifference.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Jobson; “then you’ve given up the idea of standing for the county?”
“I did not say that,” replied Mr. Jorrocks. “I means night-time’s of no walue: can’t canvass day and night too.”
“I was in hopes, from the handsome manner in which you have spoken of our people,” observed Jobson, “that you had given up the idea of opposing our friend the Marquis.”
“No doubt,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks; “speak well o’ them wot uses one well.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Mr. Jobson; “and use them well too, I hope.”
“To be sure,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks.
“Then you don’t mean to oppose the Marquis?” asked Mr. Jobson.
“Not if the Markis’ll stand up for us poor farmers,” replied Mr. Jorrocks, helping himself out of the fresh bottle, and passing it to Jobson, saying, “Let us drink prosperity to hagricultur,” adding, “it’s like the hair we breathe — if we have it not we die.”
Mr. Jobson took a little.
“Nay, a hamper to that at all ewents,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks.
“I thought you said I might fill as I liked to sentiments,” observed Jobson.
“No doubt,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks; “but that ar’nt no sintiment! it’s a toast — nothin’ but a toast; so take a hamper. Sintiments,” hiccuped he, “have reference to the ladies, sich as sweethearts and wives, honest men and bonnie lasses, the fair o’ Middlesex (hiccup), or summut o’ that ‘ sort.”
“The Duke will take it seriously amiss, I’m afraid,” observed Mr. Jobson, “if you put the Marquis to the trouble of a contest.” —
“Can’t ‘elp that,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks. “If the Duke has a mind to cut his own (hiccup) throat, can’t afford to let him (hiccup) cut mine too.’Elp yourself, and we’ll drink his Greece’s (hiccup) good ‘ealth again,” added Mr. Jorrocks, setting the example by filling and passing the bottle. “Bamper toast,” hiccuped he.
Mr. Jobson eyed his glass as if it were poison.
“The Duke will think it very ungrateful, I’m afraid,” observed Jobson, raising the glass to his lips and setting it down again.
“I don’t see that,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks, adding, “howsomever drink your wine, and show your (hiccup) attachment to him.” —
“He made you a magistrate,” observed Mr. Jobson.
“He did so,” replied Mr. Jorrocks, adding—” Showed his sense there; for real, substantial (hiccup) jestice — fifth o’ George the Fourth sort o’ jestice — no man can compete with (hiccup) J. (hiccup) J. With your permission, I’ll give you a (hiccup) toast — a hamper — the last hamper I’ll (hiccup) call for. I’ll give you ‘The fifth o’ (hiccup) George the (hiccup) Fourth,’ real (hiccup) palladium of our (hiccup) rights. That (hi
ccup) Graham will play the (hiccup) deuce with the (hiccup) fifth o’ George the Fourth, if he won’t let us jestices do any more (hiccup) jestice at ‘ome. Here’s ‘The (hiccup) fifth o’ (hiccup) George the Fourth,’” concluded Mr. Jorrocks, filling a bumper and drinking it off.
“That’s a sentiment, I presume,” observed Jobson, filling a very small quantity.
“(Hiccup) toast or (hiccup) sentiment, as you please,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, seeing his friend’s eyes looking very glassy.
“I suppose we shall be having the bull back,” observed Jobson, after a pause.
“What’n ball?” inquired Mr. Jorrocks.
“The bull the Duke gave you,” replied Mr. Jobson. “Of course you won’t keep it if you oppose the Marquis.”
“I don’t see that at all,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, cured of his hiccup at the bare idea of losing his treasure. “I don’t see that at all,” added he, looking at the decanter as if he saw two. “If the ball,” said he, looking very wise, “was presented to me to buy me off-standin’, it would be another (hiccup) pair o’ shoes altogether; but it was presented to me as a (hiccup) undeniable (hiccup) token of undeniable esteem. With your (hiccup) permission,” continued Mr. Jorrocks, “we’ll drink (hiccup) his ‘ealth, if you please.”
“We have drunk it already,” observed Jobson, sick at the thoughts of another drop.
“Never mind that,” hiccuped Mr. Jorrocks; “we (hiccup) drank the Duke’s health twice, and we’ll drink the (hiccup) Duke’s (hiccup) ball’s health twice too; twice two’s four, and one’s sivin,” added he. “No man can say I’m (hiccup) drank, I think.”
“Then you don’t mean to return the bull?” observed Mr. Jobson, speaking very thick, and pouring the wine over the side of his glass.
“No!” roared Mr. Jorrocks, in a tone that startled Jobson, adding—”’Ow can you ax sich a question? I loves that Markis-ball too well to part with him. It may be wanity on my part, but I flatters my-(hiccup)-self his (hiccup) lordship re-re-re-recip-recipro-reciprocates the (hiccup) sentiment.”
Mr. Jobson stared, and shortly after, in attempting to reach a piece of biscuit, lost his balance and fell on the floor.
