ROBERT’S ROMANCE
I have been so bothered for coppys of my Romanse, as I read at the Cook’s Swarry some time back, that I have detummined to publish it, and here it is. In coarse, all rites is reserved.
Robert.
THE MYSTERY OF MAY FARE
(By One Behind the Seens)
Chapter I.—Despare!
It was Midnite! The bewtifool Countess of Belgravier sat at the hopen winder of her Boodwar gazing on the full moon witch was jest a rising up above the hopposite chimbleys. Why was that evenly face, that princes had loved and Poets sillybrated, bathed in tears? How offen had she, wile setting at that hopen winder, washed it with Oder Colone, to remove the stanes of them tell tail tears? But all in wane, they wood keep running down that bewtifool face as if enamelled with its buty; and quite heedless of how they was a spiling of her new ivory cullered sattin dress that Maddam Elise’s yung ladies had been a workin on up to five a clock that werry arternoon.
She had bin to the great ball of the Season, to be washupped as usual by the world of Fashun, but wot had driven her home at the hunerthly hour of harf-parst Eleven? Ah, that cruel blo, that deadly pang, that despairin shok, must be kep for the nex chapter.
CHAPTER II.—The Helopemeant!
Seated in the Housekeeper’s own Room at the Dook of Surrey’s lovely Manshun, playfoolly patting his fatted calves, and surrounded by his admiring cirkle, sat Charles, the ero of my Tale. Charles was the idle of that large establishment. They simply adored him. It was not only his manly bewty, tho that mite have made many an Apoller envy him. It was not only his nolledge of the world, tho in that he was sooperior to menny a Mimber of Parlyment from the Sister Oil, but it was his style, his grace, his orty demeaner. The Housekeeper paid him marked attenshuns. The Ladies Maid supplyed him with Sent for his ankerchers. The other Footmen looked up to him as their moddel, and ewen the sollem Butler treated him with respec, and sumtimes with sumthink else as he liked even better. The leading Gentlemen from other Doocal establishments charfed him upon his success with the Fare, ewen among the werry hiest of the Nobillerty, and Charles bore it all with a good-natured larf that showed off his ivory teeth to perfecshun. Of course it was all in fun, as they said, and probberly thort, till on this fatal ewening, the noose spread like thunder, through the estonished world of Fashun, that Charles had heloped with the welthy, the middle-aged, but still bewtifool, Marchioness of St. Bendigo.
Chapter III.—The Dewell.
The pursoot was rapid and sucksessful, and the Markiss’s challenge reyther disterbed the gilty pair at their ellegant breakfast. But Charles was as brave as he was fare, and, having hired his fust Second for twenty-five francs, and made a few other erangements, he met his hantigginest on the dedly field on the follering day at the hunerthly hour of six hay hem. Charles, with dedly haim, fired in the hair! but the Markiss being bald, he missed him. The Markiss’s haim was even more dedly, for he, aperiently, shot his rival in his hart, for he fell down quite flat on the new-mown hay, and dishcullered it with his blud!
The Markiss rushed up, and gave him one look of orror, and, throwing down a £1,000 pound note, sed, “that for any one who brings him two,” and, hurrying away to his Carridge, took the next train for Lundon. Charles recovered hisself emediately, and, pocketing the note, winked his eye at the second second, and, giving him a hundred-franc note for hisself, wiped away the stains of the rouge and water, and returned to breakfast with his gilty parrer-mour.
Chapter IV.—The End.
The poor Markiss was so horryfied at his brillyant sucksess, that Charles’s sanguinery corpse aunted his bed-side, and he died within a month, a leetle munth, as Amlet says, of the dredful ewent, and Charles married his Widder. But, orful to relate, within a werry short time Charles was a sorrowin’ Widderer, with a nincum of sum £10,000 a year; and having purchased a Itallien titel for a hundred and fifty pound, it is said as he intends shortly to return to hold Hingland; and as the lovely Countess of Belgravier is fortnetly becum a Widder, and a yung one, it is thought quite posserbel, by them as is behind the seens, like myself, for instance, that before many more munce is past and gone, there will be one lovely Widder and one andsum Widderer less than there is now; and we is all on us ankshushly looking forred to the day wen the gallant Count der Wennis shall lead his lovely Bride to the halter of St. George’s, Hannower Squeer, thus proving the truth of the Poet’s fabel,—
“The rank is but the guinny’s stamp,
The Footman’s the man for a’ that.”
Awkward.—Miss Fillip (to Young Gentleman, who has taken her in to dinner at Olympia Manor). “You say that you don’t shoot, hunt, fish, drive, or ride, and that you hate cycling. Now, what on earth are you staying here for?”
Young Gentleman (languidly). “Because I can’t afford to live anywhere else in the winter.”
[Then it flashes across Miss F. that she is talking to a younger son of the house.
FORM!
“Good Heavens! What a swell! What is it? Tea fight? Wedding breakfast?”
“Oh no; only going to my tailor’s. Must be decently dressed when I go to see him. He’s so beastly critical!”
EN PASSANT
He. “That’s that ass, Bounderson, isn’t it? He should have been drowned as a puppy!”
She. “There’s time enough yet, isn’t there?”
Fair Girl (on sofa, to her neighbour during New Year’s Eve Festivity). “How delightful it must be for you, Mrs. Featherstone, to hear all the dear Professor’s lectures!”
Mrs. Featherstone. “Oh, I never hear his lectures. But he’ll have to hear one of mine to-night!”
A TERRIBLE VENGEANCE
“Well, Mr. Softley, did you revenge yourself on Algy since that quarrel you had with him?”
“Yes, indeed. I ordered my man to be wude to his man when he meets him.”
Little Timkins (to gorgeous chappie). “Excuse me, old boy, but who are you in mourning for?”
REFLECTED GLORY
Shopman. “Here! Hi! Are you his Grace the Duke of Bayswater?”
A REASON FOR CALLING
Visitor (naïvely). “Well, I certainly never dreamt I should find you at home on such a lovely afternoon as this!”