THE CONTRAST.
“I HOPE the Leviathan is outward-bound,” I ejaculated, half aloud, as I beheld the Kit-Kat portion of the Man-Mountain occupying the whole frame of the coach-window. But Hope deceived as usual; and in he came.
I ought rather to have said he essayed to come in,—for it was only after repeated experiments upon material substances, that he contrived to enter the vehicle edgeways,—if such blunt bodies may be said to have an edge at all. As I contemplated his bulk, I could not help thinking of the mighty Lambert, and was ready to exclaim with Gratiano, “A Daniel! a second Daniel!”
The Brobdignaggian had barely subsided in his seat, when the opposite door opened, and in stepped a Liliputian! The conjunction was whimsical. Yonder, thought I, is the Irish Giant, and the other is the dwarf, Count Borulawski. This coach is their travelling caravan—and as for myself, I am no doubt the showman.
I was amusing myself with this and kindred fancies, when a hand suddenly held up something, at the coach window. “It’s my luggage,” said the Giant, with a small penny-trumpet of a pipe, and taking possession of a mere golden pippin of a bundle.
“The three large trunks and the biggest carpet-bag are my property,” said the Dwarf, with a voice as unexpectedly stentorian.
THE GREAT MAIL CONTRACTOR.
“Warm day, Sir,” squeaked the Giant, by way of small talk.
“Prodigious preponderance of caloric in the atmosphere,” thundered the Dwarf, by way of big talk.
“Have you paid your fare, gentlemen?” asked the coachman, looking in at the door.
“I have paid half of mine,” said the Stupendous, “and it’s booked. My name is Lightfoot.”
“Mine is Heavyside,” said the Pigmy, “and I have disbursed the sum total.”
The door slammed—the whip cracked—sixteen horse-shoes made a clatter, and away bowled the New Safety; but had barely rolled two hundred yards, when it gave an alarming bound over some loose paving stones, followed by a very critical swing. The Dwarf, in a tone louder than ever, gave vent to a prodigious oath; the Giant said, “Dear me!”
There will something come of this, said I to myself; so, feigning I sleep, I leaned back in a corner, with a wary ear to their conversation. The Gog had been that morning to the Exhibition of Fleas, in Regent Street, and thought them “prodigious!” The Runtling had visited the Great Whale at Charing-Cross, and “thought little of it.” The Goliath spoke with wonder of the “vast extent of view from the top of the Monument.” The David was “disappointed by the prospect from Plinlimmon.” The Hurlothrumbo was “amazed by the grandeur of St. Paul’s.” The Tom Thumb spoke slightingly of St. Peter’s at Rome. In theatricals their taste held the same mathematical proportion. Gog “must say he liked the Minors best.” The “Wee Thing” declared for the Majors. The Man-Mountain’s favourite was Miss Foote = twelve inches. The Manikin preferred Miss Cubitt = eighteen.
The conversation, and the contrast, flourished in full flower through several stages, till we stopped to dine at the Salisbury Arms, and then—
The Folio took a chair at the ordinary—
The Duodecimo required “a room to himself.”
The Puppet bespoke a leg of mutton—
The Colossus ordered a mutton-chop.
The Imp rang the bell for “the loaf”—
The Monster called for a roll.
A magnum of port was decanted for the Minimum.
A short pint of sherry was set before the Maximum.
We heard the Mite bellowing by himself, “The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea!”
The Mammoth hummed “The Streamlet.”
The Tiny, we learned, was bound to Plimpton Magna.
The Huge, we found, was going to Plimpton Parva.
A hundred other circumstances have escaped from Memory through the holes that time has made in her sieve: but I remember distinctly, as we passed the bar in our passage outwards, that while
The Pigmy bussed the landlady—a buxom widow, fat, fair, and forty—
The Giant kissed her daughter—a child ten years old, and remarkably small for her age.
THE GREAT DESERT—HALT OF THE CARAVAN.
JOHN DAY.
A PATHETIC BALLAD.
“A Day after the Fair.”—OLD PROVERB.
JOHN DAY he was the biggest man
Of all the coachman-kind,
With back too broad to be conceived
By any narrow mind.
The very horses knew his weight
When he was in the rear,
And wished his box a Christmas-box
To come but once a year.
Alas! against the shafts of love
What armour can avail?
Soon Cupid sent an arrow through
His scarlet coat of mail.
The bar-maid of the Crown he loved,
From whom he never ranged,
For tho’ he changed his horses there,
His love he never changed.
He thought her fairest of all fares,
So fondly love prefers;
And often, among twelve outsides,
Deemed no outside like hers.
One day as she was sitting down
Beside the porter-pump—
He came, and knelt with all his fat,
And made an offer plump.
Said she, my taste will never learn
To like so huge a man,
So I must beg you will come here
As little as you can.
But still be stoutly urged his suit,
With vows, and sighs, and tears,
Yet could not pierce her heart, altho’
He drove the Dart for years.
In vain he wooed, in vain he sued;
The maid was cold and proud,
And sent him off to Coventry,
While on his way to Stroud.
He fretted all the way to Stroud,
And thence all back to town;
The course of love was never smooth,
So his went up and down.
At last her coldness made him pine
To merely bones and skin;
But still he loved like one resolved
To love through thick and thin.
Oh, Mary, view my wasted back,
And see my dwindled calf;
Tho’ I have never had a wife,
I’ve lost my better half.
Alas, in vain he still assailed,
Her heart withstood the dint;
Though he had carried sixteen stone
He could not move a flint.
Worn out, at last he made a vow
To break his being’s link;
For he was so reduced in size
At nothing he could shrink.
Now some will talk in water’s praise
And waste a deal of breath,
But John, tho’ he drank nothing else—
He drank himself to death.
The cruel maid that caused his love,
Found out the fatal close,
For, looking in the butt, she saw
The butt-end of his woes.
Some say his spirit haunts the Crown,
But that is only talk—
For after riding all his life,
His ghost objects to walk.
THE BOX SEAT.
THE SUBLIME AND THE RIDICULOUS.