BOLD PLAGIARISM.
Charles Reade, in The Wandering Heir reproduces Swift’s Journal of a Modern Lady in a singular manner. Compare them. Reade says:—
“Mistress Anne Gregory held bad cards; she had to pawn ring after ring—for these ladies, being well acquainted with each other, never played on parole—and she kept bemoaning her bad luck. ‘Betty, I knew how ’twould be. The parson called to-day. This odious chair, why will you stick me in it? Stand farther, girl, I always lose when you look on.’ Mrs. Betty tossed her head, and went behind another lady. Miss Gregory still lost, and had to pawn her snuff box to Lady Dace. She consoled herself by an insinuation: ‘My Lady you touched your wedding-ring. That was a sign to your partner here.’
“’Nay Madam, ’twas but a sign my finger itched. But, if you go to that, you spoke a word began with H. Then she knew you had the king of hearts.’
“‘That is like Miss here,’ said another matron; ‘she rubs her chair when she hath matadore in hand.’
“‘Set a thief to catch a thief, Madam,’ was Miss’s ingenious and polished reply.
“‘Heyday!’ cries one, ‘Here spadillo got a mark on the back; a child might know it in the dark. Mistress Pigot, I wish you’d be pleased to pare your nails.’
“In short, they said things to each other all night, the slightest of which, among men, would have filled Phœnix Park next morning with drawn swords; but it went for little here; they were all cheats, and knew it, and knew the others knew it, and didn’t care.
“It was four o’clock before they broke up, huddled on their cloaks and hoods, and their chairs took them home with cold feet and aching heads.”
Swift says:—
“‘This morning when the parson came,
I said I should not win a game,
This odious chair, how came I stuck in’t?
I think I never had good luck in’t.
I’m so uneasy in my stays;
Your fan a moment, if you please.
Stand further, girl, or get you gone;
I always lose when you look on.’
* * * * *
“‘I saw you touch your wedding-ring
Before my lady called a king;
You spoke a word began with H,
And I know whom you mean to teach
Because you held the king of hearts,
Fie, Madam, leave these little arts.’
‘That’s not so bad as one that rubs
Her chair to call the king of clubs,
And makes her partner understand
A matador is in her hand.’
‘And truly, madam, I know when,
Instead of five, you scored me ten.
Spadillo here has got a mark,
A child may know it in the dark.
I guessed the hand: It seldom fails.
I wish some folks would pare their nails,’
* * * * *
“At last they hear the watchman’s knock:
‘A frosty morn—past four o’clock.’
The chairmen are not to be found—
‘Come let us play the other round.’
Now all in haste they huddle on
Their hoods, their cloaks and get them gone.”