Tallyho laughed heartily at these satirical touches upon the poor Alderman.
“However,” continued Tom, “a man with plenty of money can bear laughing at, and sometimes laughs at himself, though I suspect he will hardly laugh or produce a laugh in others, by what he stated in his seat in the House of Commons, on the subject of the riots{1} at Knightsbridge. I suspect his wit and good humour will hardly protect him in that instance.”
1 On a motion made by Mr. Favell in the Court of Common Council, on the 21st of March, the following resolution was passed, indicative of the opinion that Court entertained of the conduct of Alderman Curtis on the occasion here alluded to: “That Sir William Curtis, Bart, having acknowledged in his place in this Court, that a certain speech now read was delivered by him in the House of Commons, in which, among other matters which he stated respecting the late riot at Knightsbridge, he said, 'That he had been anxious that a Committee should investigate this question, because he wished to let the world know the real character of this Great Common Council, who were always meddling with matters which they had nothing to do with, and which were far above their wisdom and energy. It was from such principles they had engaged in the recent inquiry, which he would contend they had no right to enter upon. Not only was evidence selected, but questions were put to draw such answers as the party putting them desired.' “That the conduct of Sir William Curtis, one of the repre- sentatives of this City in Parliament, lias justly merited the censure and indignation of this Court and of his fellow Citizens.”
After taking a cursory look into the Chamberlain's Office, the Court of King's Bench and Common Pleas, they took their departure from Guildhall, very well satisfied with their morning's excursion.
It was between three and four o'clock when our friends left the Hall. Tom Dashalt, being upon the qui vive, determined to give his Cousin a chevy for the remainder of the day; and for this purpose, it being on a Friday, he proposed a stroll among the Prad-sellers in Smithfield, where, after partaking of a steak and a bottle at Dolly's, they accordingly repaired.
“You will recollect,” said Tom, “that you passed through Smithfield (which is our principal cattle market) during the time of Bartholomew Fair; but you will now find it in a situation so different, that you would scarcely know it for the same place: you will now see it full of horse-jockeys, publicans, pugilists, and lads upon the lark like ourselves, who having no real business either in the purchase or sale of the commodities of the market, are watching the manners and manouvres of those who have.”
As Tom was imparting this piece of information to his attentive Cousin, they were entering Smithfield by the way of Giltspur-street, and were met by a man having much the appearance of a drover, who by the dodging movements of his stick directly before their eyes, inspired our friends so strongly with the idea of some animal being behind them which they could not see, and from which danger was to be apprehended, that they suddenly broke from each other, and fled forward for safety, at which a roar of laughter ensued from the byestanders, who perceiving the hoax, recommended the dandies to take care they did not dirty their boots, or get near the hoofs of the prancing prads, Tom was not much disconcerted at this effort of practical jocularity, though his Cousin seemed to have but little relish for it.
“Come along,” said Tom, catching him by the arm, and impelling him forward, “although this is not Bartholomew Fair time, you must consider all fair at the horse-fair, unless you are willing to put up with a horse-laugh.”
Struggling through crowds who appeared to be buying, selling, or bargaining for the lame, the broken winded, and spavined prads of various sizes, prices, and pretensions,
“There is little difference,” said Tom, “between this place as a market for horses, and any similar mart in the kingdom,