“Come,” said Sparkle, “won't you have a drop more?”
“Thank ye, Sir,” was the reply; and Sparkle, intent upon having his gig out, ordered a fresh supply, which soon revived the fallen hero of Bosworth-field, and Richard was himself again.
“Now,” said he, “I'll sing you a song,” and immediately commenced as follows:—
“My name's Hookey Walker, I'm known very well, In acting and eating I others excel; The player-folks all take their patterns from me, And a nice pattern too!—Don't you see? don't you see? Oh! [glancing at his fingers] It will do—it will do. At Chippenham born, I was left quite forlorn, When my father was dead and my mother was gone; So I came up to London, a nice little he, And a nice pattern too!—Don't you see? don't you see? Oh! it will do—it will do. A courting I went to a girl in our court, She laugh'd at my figure, and made me her sport; I was cut to the soul,—so said I on my knee, I'm a victim of love!—Don't you see? don't you see? Oh! it won't do—it won't do. Now all day I march to and fro in the street, And a candle sometimes on my journey I eat; So I'll set you a pattern, if you'll but agree, And a nice pattern too! you shall see—you shall see. Oh! it will do—it will do.”
This Song, which he declared was all made out of his own head, was sung with grotesque action and ridiculous grimace, intended no doubt in imitation of Mr. Wilkinson in his inimitable performance of this strange piece of whimsicality. The dancing party was knock'd up and were lobbing their lollys,{1} half asleep and half awake, on the table, bowing as it were to the magnanimous influence
1 Lobbing their lollys—Laying their heads.
of Old Tom.{1} The Dustman and the Irishman laugh'd heartily; and Das hall, Tallyho, and Sparkle, could not resist the impulse to risibility when they contemplated the group before them. The Bug-destroyer munched{2} a candle and sluiced{3} his greasy chops{4} with Jacky{5} almost as fast as they could supply him with it, when Sparkle perceiving the boy was still at the door with the runaway ass,
“Come,” said he, “we'll start 'em off home in high style—here, you Mr. Bugman, can you ride?”
“Ride, aye to be sure I can, any of Mr. Astley's horses as well as the Champion of England,"{6} was the reply.
1 Old Tom—It is customary in public-houses and gin-shops in London and its vicinity to exhibit a cask inscribed with large letters—OLD TOM, intended to indicate the best gin in the house. 2 Munched—Eat. 3 Sluiced—Washed. See Sluicery. 4 Chops—The mouth. 5 Jacky—A vulgar term for gin. 6 Any person would almost suspect that Hookey had been reading the newspapers by this allusion; but that certainly could not be the case, for, spurning all education in early life, this representative of the immortal bard—this character of characters from Shakespeare, could neither read nor write, but made all he acted, as he said, from his own head: however, it may fairly be presumed, that in the course of his travels during the day he had heard something of the Champion intended to appear at the approaching Coronation, of whom the following account has recently been circulated through the daily press, and, with his usual consistency, conceived his own innate abilities equal to those which might be acquired by Mr. Dymocke, though his claims were not equally honourable or advantageous. Mr. Dymocke, the nephew of the gentleman (who is a Clergyman) entitled by hereditary right to do the service of the Champion to his Majesty, is still in hopes he may be permitted to act under his Uncle's nomination, although he wants a few months of being of age. A petition is before the King on the subject; and Mr. Dymocke, by constant practice at Astley's Hiding-school, is endeavouring to qualify himself for the due fulfilment of the office. On Thursday lie went through his exercise in a heavy suit of armour with great celerity. The horse which will be rode by the Champion has been selected from Mr. Astley's troop. It is a fine animal, pieballed black and white, and is regularly exercised in the part he will have to perform.