“The summons is a sore place,” said Jemmy.
“Surely not. I did not speak to him, I spoke to you, Sir; and I have a right to express myself as I please: if that gentleman has an antipathy to a summons, am I to be tongue-tied? Although he may sport with sovereigns, he must be accountable to plebeians; and if I summons you to shew cause, I see no reason why he should interrupt our conversation.”
1 “D——-n your summons.” This, as one of the company afterwards remarked, was a sore place, and uttered at a moment when the irritation was strong on the affected part. The speaker is a well known extensive dealer in the pottery, Staffordshire, and glass line, who a short time since in a playful humour caught a sovereign, tossed up by another frequenter of the room, and passed it to a third. The original possessor sought restitution from the person who took the sovereign from his hand, but was referred to the actual possessor, but refused to make the application. The return of the money was formally demanded of the man of porcelain, pitchers, and pipkins, without avail. In this state of things the loser obtained a summons against the taker, and the result, as might be expected, was compulsion to restore the lost sovereign to the loving subject, together with the payment of the customary expenses, a circumstance which had the effect of causing great anger in the mind of the dealer in brittle wares. Whether he broke any of the valuable articles in his warehouse in consequence has not been ascertained, but it appears for a time to have broken a friendship between the parties concerned: such breaches, however, are perhaps easier healed than broken or cracked crockery.
“Surely not,” was reverberated round the room, accompanied with a general laugh against the interrupter, who seizing the paper, appeared to read without noticing what was passing.
The company was now interrupted by the entrance of several strangers, and our two friends departed on their return homeward for the evening.
CHAPTER XVII
“Roam where you will, o'er London's wide domains, The mind new source of various feeling gains; Explore the giddy town, its squares, its streets, The 'wildered eye still fresh attraction greets; Here spires and towers in countless numbers rise, And lift their lofty summits to the skies; Wilt thou ascend? then cast thine eyes below, And view the motley groupes of joy and woe: Lo! they whom Heaven with affluence hath blest, Scowl with cold contumely on those distrest; And Pleasure's maze the wealthy caitiffs thread, While care-worn Merit asks in vain for bread; Yet short their weal or woe, a general doom On all awaits,—oblivion in the tomb!”
Our heros next morning determined on a visit to their Hibernian friend and his aunt, whom they found had not yet forgot the entertainment at the Mansion-house, and which still continued to be the favorite topic of conversation. Sir Felix expressed his satisfaction that the worthy Citizens of London retained with increasing splendor their long established renown of pre-eminent distinction in the art of good living.
“And let us hope,” said Dashall, “that they will not at any future period be reduced to the lamentable necessity of restraining the progress of epicurism, as in the year 1543, when the Lord Mayor and Common Council enacted a sumptuary law to prevent luxurious eating; by which it was ordered, that the Mayor should confine himself to seven, Aldermen and Sheriffs to six, and the Sword-bearer to four dishes at dinner or supper, under the penalty of forty shillings for each supernumerary dish!”