RINGING A PEAL, AND RINGING A BELLE
Or, The Pippy Correspondence: a Diary of Love and Inundation.
I.
Mr. Pippy's Valentine.
This elegant production was painted on a sheet of paper with a lace border, and presented a singular mixture of sentiment and improbability, viz.—a little boy, in a species of undress which the police would certainly prohibit from becoming the general fashion, riding in a car, like an enormous periwinkle shell turned topsy-turvy, upon wheels, and drawn by two pigeons—a proceeding of which every thinking mind must admit the impracticability, since the atmospheric resistance of the birds' wings could never afford sufficient fulcrum to draw so large a vehicle with any momentum, especially with cowslip collars and rosebud traces.—[See Proceed. of Chawturmut Lit. and Scien. Inst., p. 30.] A church with a pointed spire and two windows was seen in the distance, perfecting this tasteful composition of protestant mythology. At each corner were intricate red loops, like mud-worms in convulsions, termed true lovers' knots; and below were eight exquisite and novel lines, of which we present the reader with the termini, leaving him to fill them up as he pleases:—"heart—smart," "languish—anguish," "flame—name," "you be mine—Valentine."
II.
Miss Celia Potts to a confidential Female Friend.
Oh, my dear Charlotte,
What do you think? Mr. Pippy, the young apothecary, who came down here to take our union of fourteen parishes at £20 a-year, has sent me a Valentine. Not a common, impudent penny one of an old maid, with cats and parrots all about her, but a beautiful picture of a little Cupid—such a love!—riding in a thingemygig, drawn by two what-d'ye-call-'ems, with—oh, my!—eight lovely verses underneath. I know it's from him, because it's scented all over with the best Turkey rhubarb and oil of peppermint, and I found a small piece of pill adhering to the envelope—how a trifle betrays the secrets of the heart! My mind is all in a titter-totter—do come and see me.
Yours very sincerely,
Celia Potts.
Chawturmut,
Feb. 14.
III.
Mr. Pippy to Miss Potts.
Adored Celia,
The auricles of my heart contract with accelerated circulation as I pen these lines. I can no longer conceal that my love is as firmly fixed upon you, as with a solution of gum-arabic. Are your affections free for me? and may they be taken immediately, and repeated every four hours with one of the powders?—alas! I scarce know what I write. I have already directed a dozen draughts to the wrong people: one old lady has swallowed half a pot of ringworm ointment, and Mrs. Jones has been rubbing her little boy's head with lenitive electuary. You alone can write the prescription that shall administer to my incertitude.
Ever devotedly yours,
Phineas Pippy.
IV.
Miss Potts to the confidential Friend.
My dearest Charlotte,
We have given a small party, and he has formally proposed. He was very timid at first, but it was the red wine negus that did it, for Mamma very kindly made it pretty strong, and gave him a good dose, immediately upon my singing—"I'd marry him to-morrow." He says he has loved me "ever since he first saw me at church in that beautiful cloak." My dear, it was my old pelisse, which I had turned, made into a capucine, and lined with blue Persian; but love gilds everything by its magic: possibly it converted my last year's straw bonnet into a Tuscan chip. It is pouring in torrents, and they say if it goes on we must have a flood. He is sitting at his surgery window, looking at me, between the red and blue bottles, with a spy-glass.
Yours ever,
Celia.
Feb. 20.
V.
Mr. Pippy to his friend Mr. Tweak.
My dear Tweak,
How uncertain is everything in this world! I was to have been married to-day to the loveliest of her sex, but the floods have so risen, that nothing but the roof of the church is visible. It began yesterday morning, when the canal banks broke, and increased with such rapidity, that I was compelled to spend the day on the dining-table, and am now driven to the second floor, with no provision but a flask of lamp oil and some tooth powder. The sick paupers of the Union I attend have just arrived on a barge, which has got aground on the bridge. The bell-ringers, also, who were practising in the belfry when the irruption took place, are fast enclosed therein—the doors being under water, and the windows too small to get out at. They are ringing for help, and the sound is awfully painful, as it was to have been my bridal peal. A letter has just been brought by Tom Johnson, in a mash-tub, from my adored Celia; I hasten to read it.
Yours ever,
Phineas Pippy.
Feb. 23.
VI.
Miss Potts to Mr. Pippy.
Dearest Phinny,
Do not, I implore you, think too much of Hero and Leander. Our rustic Hellespont is far too cold for you to plunge into and swim across, and such a proceeding might excite the gossip of our neighbours. Let us endure this trial with patience. The waters are certainly abating, as the French bed in our back room is now visible, and John has caught three fine eels in the pillow-case, which I send you, as well as my pet Carlo, who will swim back with any answer you may have to send.
Yours very affectionately,
Celia Potts.
VII.
(Extract from the Chawturmut Gazette.)
Married, on the 28th inst., Phineas Pippy, Esq., to Celia, daughter of Anthony Potts, Esq. The ceremony, which was delayed by the late floods, was performed as soon as the waters sufficiently fell—the party going to the altar in a punt.
Look out below—above a joke.
II.
Tom Gad, a swell, in a town hotel,
Is breakfasting like a king;
Besides his proggery, lots of toggery
Hatters and tailors bring;
While John declares, he's blest if ever he
Look'd so smart as he shall in his livery!
14. Crockford cuts the cards, and throws up the game.
When Crocky, after many rubs,
On gaming turn'd his back,
'Twas just as though the king of clubs
Were shuffled from the pack.
"Not guilty, on my honour."
16. Lord Cardigan's trial and acquittal.
21. The Pennard Cheese.
A mighty fuss about a mity cheese
From Zummerset, Her Majesty to please;
A wrong foundation sure its fame was built on,—
So mighty high—it must have been a Stilt-on.
26. Explosion of the great projectile in Essex.—Lots of calves frightened to death, all for the public weal.
28. Conviction at Worship-street, for selling spurious T, which shows the necessiT of avoiding an uncertainT.
VALOUR AND DISCRETION:
THE ANCIENT AND HONOURABLE LUMBER TROOP.
(From their Private Despatches.)
It is at all times a pleasing task to chronicle heroic deeds, and we hasten to immortalize the proceedings of this gallant body of veterans during the past year. Amongst their most daring and successful attempts, have been the taking possession of Eel Pie Island; the storming of the baked apple-stand, at Temple Bar; the blockade of Bolt-court, and the celebrated passage of the Paddington Canal, under the direction of General Blackrag, the great city undertaker, to whom the attack was entrusted, from his experience, as he himself stated, in marching at the head of the corps. He was ably seconded by his usual auxiliary, Dr. Bluelight, the former providing the shells, and the latter the mortars, the combined effects of which produced terrific execution. From the usual habits of the troop, it may readily be conceived that counter marching was the manœuvre at which they felt most at home; in fact, the only idea they had of "a regular march," was the one between February and April. During their encounters, they have given and taken no quarter, except an occasional fore one of lamb; whilst their undaunted courage was well shown in the speech of Ensign Miggins, who declared "that he would never shrink from coming to the pint, even against a rampart of quartz;" and his unshaken energy in bearing the standard was never known to flag, firm as its contemporary in Cornhill. Their acknowledged love of card-playing having induced some unpleasant gambling transactions, it has been resolved, by the head of the members, to prevent all legs from bearing arms in their body; and a late regulation orders the colour of their plumes to be a deep crimson, not only as emblematical of blood and glory, but from its precluding the possibility of any one, at any time, showing a white feather. It is truly delightful to contemplate the harmony which reigns amongst them at present; and it it somewhat remarkable, considering their aptitude for catches of all sorts, that they have made no prisoners. The only approach to anything like discord in the troop, was upon the occasion of the dispute relative to a contemplated attack upon Burgundy and Madeira; but even this added to the general harmony, since, although the dinner service was demolished in the contention, this one war was productive of one hundred peaces; and it furthermore enabled the members to present to their friends several unique pieces of plate, at a small outlay. We are indebted to their laureate for the following—