"WITH MEE MY FREND MAY STILL BE FREE YET VSE MEE NOT TILL COLD YOV BEE."
These old bellows show unmistakable signs of their more than 200 years of honourable service, and they have literally breathed their last though still surviving; but it would be sacrilege to renew the leather, and might disturb the ghosts of generations of old ladies who blew the dying embers into a ruddy glow when awaiting, in the twilight of a winter's evening, their good-men's return from the field or the chase.
One of my greatest finds was a pair of Chippendale chairs at a sale at Mickleton at the foot of the Cotswolds; they belong to the early part of the Chippendale period, before the Chinese style was abandoned. That influence appears in incised fretted designs on the legs, and the frieze below the seats. The seats are covered with the original tapestry, adding much to the interest, and the backs present examples of the most spirited carving of the maker. At the sale, when I went to have a second look, I found two dealers sitting on them and chatting quite casually; the intention was evidently to prevent possible purchasers from noticing them, and more especially to hide the tapestry coverings. The value of the chairs immediately rose in my estimation, and I increased the limit which I had given to a bidder on my behalf, so that I made sure of buying them. The old chairs looked very shabby when they came out into the light of day, and they fell to my representative's bid amid roars of laughter from the rustic crowd. What a price for "them two old cheers"! they "never heard talk of such a job!" It would surprise them to know that I have been offered five times what they then cost.
My wife has had to do with many parochial committees from time to time, and I have often trembled for my Chippendale chairs when these meetings, accompanied by tea, have been held at my house, for it is not everybody who regards them with the reverence due to their external beauty and true inwardness, or who recognizes in them the
"Tea-cup times of hood and hoop,
Or while the patch was worn."
A very successful afternoon was one I spent at a sale at North Littleton. I remember the beautiful spring day, and the old weather-worn grey house in an orchard of immense pear-trees covered with sheets of snowy blossom. I secured a Jacobean elm chest with well-carved panels, a Jacobean oak chest of drawers on a curious stand, a complete tea set of Staffordshire ware, including twelve cups and saucers, teapot, and other pieces, with Chinese decoration; four Nankin blue handleless tea-cups, a Delft plate, and a Battersea enamel patch-box. My bill was a very moderate one, but the executor who had the matter of the sale in hand was well pleased that these old family relics had passed into the possession of someone who would value them, and not to careless and indifferent neighbours, and was more than satisfied with the amount realized. Next morning, as a token of his satisfaction, he brought me a charming old brass Dutch tobacco box, with an oil painting inside the lid, of a smoker enjoying a pipe.
I have seen some amusing incidents at sales of household goods in remote places; incredulous smiles as to the possibility of the usefulness of anything in the shape of a bath generally greeted the appearance of such an article, and on one of these occasions an ancient, with great gravity, and as an apology for its existence, remarked that it was "A very good thing for an invalid!" I am reminded thereby of an old-fashioned hunting man in Surrey, who was astonished to hear from a friend of mine that he enjoyed a cold bath every morning. He "didn't think," he said, "that cold water was at all a good thing—next to the skin!"
CHAPTER XXV.
DIALECT—LOCAL PHRASEOLOGY IN SHAKESPEARE—NAMES—STUPID PLACES.
"Our echoes roll from soul to soul." —The Princess.