Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour
Page 40
CHAPTER XL
A LITERARY BLOOMER
Time was when the independent borough of Swillingford supported twonewspapers, or rather two editors, the editor of the _SwillingfordPatriot_, and the editor of the _Swillingford Guide to Glory_; but thosewere stirring days, when politics ran high and votes and corn commandedgood prices. The papers were never very prosperous concerns, as may besupposed when we say that the circulation of the former at its best timewas barely seven hundred, while that of the latter never exceeded athousand.
They were both started at the reform times, when the reduction of thestamp-duty brought so many aspiring candidates for literary fame into thefield, and for a time they were conducted with all the bitter hostilitythat a contracted neighbourhood, and a constant crossing by the editors ofeach other's path, could engender. The competition, too, foradvertisements, was keen, and the editors were continually taunting eachother with taking them for the duty alone. AEneas M'Quirter was the editorof the _Patriot_, and Felix Grimes that of the _Guide to Glory_.
M'Quirter, we need hardly say, was a Scotsman--a big, broad-shoulderedSawney--formidable in 'slacks,' as he called his trousers, and terrific inkilts; while Grimes was a native of Swillingford, an ex-schoolmaster andparish clerk, and now an auctioneer, a hatter, a dyer and bleacher, apaper-hanger, to which the wits said when he set up his paper, he added thetrade of 'stainer.'
At first the rival editors carried on a 'war to the knife' sort of contestwith one another, each denouncing his adversary in terms of the mostunmeasured severity. In this they were warmly supported by a select knot ofadmirers, to whom they read their weekly effusions at their respective'houses of call' the evening before publication. Gradually the fire ofbitterness began to pale, and the excitement of friends to die out;M'Quirter presently put forth a signal of distress. To accommodate 'alarge and influential number of its subscribers and patrons,' he determinedto publish on a Tuesday instead of on a Saturday as heretofore, whereuponMr. Grimes, who had never been able to fill a single sheet properly, nowdoubled his paper, lowered his charge for advertisements, and hinted at hisintention of publishing an occasional supplement.
However exciting it may be for a time, parties soon tire of carrying on alosing game for the mere sake of abusing each other, and AEneas M'Quirternot being behind the generality of his countrymen in 'canniness' andshrewdness of intellect, came to the conclusion that it was no use doing soin this case, especially as the few remaining friends who still applaudedwould be very sorry to subscribe anything towards his losses. He thereforevery quietly negotiated the sale of his paper to the rival editor, andhaving concluded a satisfactory bargain, he placed the bulk of his propertyin the poke of his plaid, and walked out of Swillingford just as if bent ontaking the air, leaving Mr. Grimes in undisputed possession of both papers,who forthwith commenced leading both Whig and Tory mind, the one on theTuesday, the other on the Saturday.
The pot and pipe companions of course saw how things were, but the majorityof the readers living in the country just continued to pin their faith tothe printed declarations of their oracles, while Grimes kept up thedelusion of sincerity by every now and then fulminating a tremendousdenunciation against his trimming, vacillating, inconsistent opponent onthe Tuesday, and then retaliating with equal vigour upon himself on theSaturday. He wrote his own 'leaders,' both Whig and Tory, the arguments ofone side pointing out answers for the other. Sometimes he led the way for atriumphant refutal, while the general tone of the articles was quite of the'upset a ministry' style. Indeed, Grimes strutted and swaggered as if thefate of the nation rested with him.
The papers themselves were not very flourishing-looking concerns, thewide-spread paragraphs, the staring type, the catching advertisements,forming a curious contrast to the close packing of _The Times_. The 'GuttaPercha Company,' 'Locock's Female Pills,' 'Keating's Cough Lozenges,' andthe 'Triumphs of Medicine,' all with staring woodcuts and royal arms,occupied conspicuous places in every paper. A new advertisement was anovelty. However, the two papers answered a great deal better than eitherdid singly, and any lack of matter was easily supplied from the magazinesand new books. In this department, indeed, in the department of elegantlight literature generally, Mr. Grimes was ably assisted by his eldestdaughter, Lucy, a young lady of a certain age--say liberal thirty--anardent Bloomer--with a considerable taste for sentimental poetry, withwhich she generally filled the poet's corner. This assistance enabledGrimes to look after his auctioneering, bleaching, and paper-hangingconcerns, and it so happened that when the foregoing run arrived at theoffice he, having seen the next paper ready for press, had gone to Mr.Vosper's, some ten miles off, to paper his drawing-room, consequently theduties of deciding upon its publication devolved on the Bloomer. Now, shewas a most refined, puritanical young woman, full of sentiment andelegance, with a strong objection to what she considered the inhumanitiesof the chase. At first she was for rejecting the article altogether, andhad it been a run with the Tinglebury Harriers, or even, we believe, withLord Scamperdale's hounds, she would have consigned it to the 'Balaam box,'but seeing it was with Mr. Puffington's hounds, whose house they hadpapered, and who advertised with them, she condescended to read it; andthough her delicacy was shocked at encountering the word 'stunning' at theoutset, and also at the term 'ravishing scent' farther on, she neverthelesssent the manuscript to the compositors, after making such alterations andcorrections as she thought would fit it for eyes polite. The consequencewas that the article appeared in the following form, though whether all theabsurdities were owing to Miss Lucy's corrections, or the carelessness ofthe writer, or the printers, had anything to do with it, we are not able tosay. The errors, some of them arising from the mere alteration orsubstitution of a letter, will strike a sporting more than a generalreader. Thus it appeared in the middle of the third sheet of the_Swillingford Patriot_:
SPLENDID RUN WITH MR. PUFFINGTON'S HOUNDS.
This splendid pack had a superb run from Hollyburn Hanger, the property of its truly popular and sporting owner, Mr. Puffington. A splendid field of well-appointed sportsmen, among whom we recognized several distinguished strangers, and members of Lord Scamperdale's hunt, were present. After partaking of the well-known profuse and splendid hospitality of Hanby House, they proceeded at once to Hollyburn Hanger, where a fine seasonal fox, though some said he was a bay one, broke away in view of the whole pack, every hound scorning to cry, and making the welkin ring with their melody. He broke at the lower end of the cover, and crossing the brook, made straight for Fleecyhaugh Water Meadows, over which there is always an exquisite perfume; from there he made a slight bend, as if inclining for the plantations at Winstead, but changing his mind, he faced the rising ground, and crossing over nearly the highest point of Shillington Hill, made direct for the little village of Berrington Roothings below. Here the hounds came to a check, but Mr. Bragg, who had ridden gallantly on his favourite bay, as fine an animal as ever went, though somewhat past work of mouth, was well up with his hounds, and with a 'gentle rantipole!' and a single wave of his arm, proceeded to make one of those scientific rests for which this eminent huntsman is so justly celebrated. Hitting off the scent like a coachman, they went away again at score, and passing by Moorlinch Farm buildings, and threading the strip of plantation by Bexley Burn, he crossed Silverbury Green, leaving Longford Hutch to the right, and passing straight on by the gibbet at Harpen. Here, then, the gallant pack, breaking from scent to view, ran into their box in the open close upon Mountnessing Wood, evidently his point from the first, and into which a few more strides would have carried him. It was as fine a run as ever was seen, and the grunting of the hounds was the admiration of all who heard it. The distance could not have been less than ten miles as a cow goes. The justly popular owner of this most celebrated pack, though riding good fourteen stones, led the Walters on his famous chestnut horse Tappy Lappey. After this truly brilliant affair, Mr.
Puffington, like a thorough sportsman, and one who never thrashes his hounds unnecessarily--unlike some masters who never know when to leave off--returned to Hanby House, where a distinguished party of noblemen and gentlemen partook of his splendid hospitality.
And the considerate Bloomer added of her own accord, 'We hope we shall haveto record many such runs in the imperishable columns of our paper.'
MISS GRIMES GIVING THE 'CORRECTED' COPY TO THE PRINTER]