LORD MELBOURNE’S LETTER-BAG.
The Augean task of cleansing the Treasury has commenced, and brooms and scrubbing-brushes are at a premium—a little anticipative, it is true, of the approaching turn-out; but the dilatory idleness and muddle-headed confusion of those who will soon be termed its late occupiers, rendered this a work of absolute time and labour. That the change in office had long been expected, is evident from the number of hoards discovered, which the unfortunate employés had saved up against the rainy day arrived. The routing-out of this conglomeration was only equalled in trouble by the removal of the birdlime with which the various benches were covered, and which adhered with most pertinacious obstinacy, in spite of every effort to get rid of it. From one of the wicker baskets used for the purpose of receiving the torn-up letters and documents, the following papers were extracted. We contrived to match the pieces together, and have succeeded tolerably well in forming some connected epistles from the disjointed fragments. We offer no comment, but allow them to speak for themselves. They are selected at random from dozens of others, with which the poor man must have been overwhelmed during the past two months:—
1.
MY LORD,—In the present critical state of your lordship’s situation, it behoves every lover of his country and her friends, to endeavour to assuage, as much as possible, the awkward predicament in which your lordship and colleagues will soon be thrown. My dining-rooms in Broad-street, St. Giles’s, have long been held in high estimation by my customers, for
BEEF A-LA-MODE;
and I can offer you an excellent basin of leg-of-beef soup, with bread and potatoes, for threepence. Imitated by all, equalled by none.
N.B. Please observe the address—Broad-street, St. Giles’s.
2.
A widow lady, superintendent of a boarding-house, in an airy and cheerful part of Kentish Town, will be happy to receive Lord Melbourne as an inmate, when an ungrateful nation shall have induced his retirement from office. Her establishment is chiefly composed of single ladies, addicted to backgammon, birds, and bible meetings, who would, nevertheless, feel delighted in the society of a man of Lord Melbourne’s acknowledged gallantry. The dinner-table is particularly well furnished, and a rubber is generally got up every evening, at which Lord M. could play long penny points if he wished it.
Address S.M., Post-office, Kentish Town.
3.
Grosjean, Restaurateur, Castle-street, Leicester-square, a l’honneur de prévenir Milord Melbourne qu’il se trouvera bien servi à son établissement. Il peut commander un bon potage an choux, trois plats, avec pain à discretion, et une pinte de demi-et-demi; enfin, il pourra parfaitement avoir ses sacs soufflés44. French idiom—“He will be well able to blow his bags out!”—PUNCH, with the assistance of his friend in the show—the foreign gentleman. pour un schilling. La société est très comme-il-faut, et on ne donne rien au garçon.
4.
(Rose-coloured paper, scented. At first supposed to be from a lady of the bedchamber, but contradicted by the sequel.)
Flattering deceiver, and man of many loves,
My fond heart still clings to your cherished memory. Why have I listened to the honied silver of your seducing accents? Your adored image haunts me night and day. How is the treasury?—can you still spare me ten shillings?
YOURS,
AMANDA.
5.
JOHN MARVAT respectfully begs to offer to the notice of Lord Melbourne his Bachelor’s Dispatch, or portable kitchen. It will roast, bake, boil, stew, steam, melt butter, toast bread, and diffuse a genial warmth at one and the same time, for the outlay of one halfpenny. It is peculiarly suited for lamb, in any form, which requires delicate dressing, and is admirably adapted for concocting mint-sauce, which delightful adjunct Lord Melbourne may, ere long, find some little difficulty in procuring.
High Holborn.
6.
May it plese my Lord,—i have gest time to Rite and let you kno’ wot a sad plite we are inn, On account off your lordship’s inwitayshun to queen Wictory and Prince Allbut to come and Pick a bit with you, becos There is nothink for them wen they comes, and the Kitchin-range is chok’d up with the sut as has falln down the last fore yeers, and no poletry but too old cox, which is two tuff to be agreerble; But, praps, we Can git sum cold meet from the in, wot as bin left at the farmers’ markut-dinner; and may I ask you my lord without fear of your
TAKING A FENCE
on the reseat of this To send down sum ham and beef to me—two pound will be Enuff—or a quarter kitt off pickuld sammun, if you can git it, and I wish you may; and sum german silver spoons, to complement prince Allbut with; and, praps, as he and his missus knos they’ve come to Take pot-luck like, they won’t be patickler, and I think we had better order the beer from the Jerry-shop, for owr own Is rayther hard, and the brooer says, that a fore and a harf gallon, at sixpence A gallon, won’t keep no Time, unless it’s drunk; and so we guv some to the man as brort the bushel of coles, and he sed It only wanted another Hop, and then it woud have hopped into water; and John is a-going to set some trimmers in The ditches to kitch some fish; and, praps, if yure lordship comes, you may kitch sum too, from
Yure obedient Humbl servent and housekeeper,
MISSES RUMMIN.
7.
MY LORD,—Probably your cellars will be full of choke-damp when the door is opened, from long disuse and confined air. I have men, accustomed to descend dangerous wells and shafts, who will undertake the job at a moderate price. Should you labour under any temporary pecuniary embarrassment in paying me, I shall be happy to take it out in your wine, which I should think had been some years in bottle. Your Lordship’s most humble servant,
RICHARD ROSE,
Dealer in Marine Stores.
Gray’s-inn-lane.
LAYS OF THE LAZY.
I’ve wander’d on the distant shore,
I’ve braved the dangers of the deep,
I’ve very often pass’d the Nore—
At Greenwich climb’d the well-known steep;
I’ve sometimes dined at Conduit House,
I’ve taken at Chalk Farm my tea,
I’ve at the Eagle talk’d with Rouse—
But I have NOT forgotten thee!
“I’ve stood amid the glittering throng”
Of mountebanks at Greenwich fair,
Where I have heard the Chinese gong
Filling, with brazen voice, the air.
I’ve join’d wild revellers at night—
I’ve crouch’d beneath the old oak tree,
Wet through, and in a pretty plight,
But, oh! I’ve NOT forgotten thee!
I’ve earn’d, at times, a pound a week—
Alas! I’m earning nothing now;
Chalk scarcely shames my whiten’d cheek,
Grief has plough’d furrows in my brow.
I only get one meal a day,
And that one meal—oh, God!—my tea;
I’m wasting silently away,
But I have NOT forgotten thee!
My days are drawing to their end—
I’ve now, alas! no end in view;
I never had a real friend—
I wear a worn-out black surtout,
My heart is darken’d o’er with woe,
My trousers whiten’d at the knee,
My boot forgets to hide my toe—
But I have NOT forgotten thee!
MATERNAL SOLICITUDE.
The business habits of her gracious Majesty have long been the theme of admiration with her loving subjects. A further proof of her attention to general affairs, and consideration for the accidents of the future, has occurred lately. The lodge at Frogmore, which was, during the lifetime of Queen Charlotte, an out-of-town nursery for little highnesses, has been constructed (by command of the Queen) into a Royal Eccalleobion for a similar purpose.
FAMILIES SUPPLIED.