"May I never be merry more," said the alderman, "if we don't go a Maying on Sunday next, and you must accompany us, Master Blackmantle: I always make a country excursion once a year, to wit, on the first Sunday in May, when we join a very jolly party at the Gate House, Highgate, and partake of an excellent ordinary."
"I thought, Pa, you would have given up that vulgar custom when we removed westward, and you were elected alderman of the ward of Cheap."
"Ay," said Mrs. Marigold, "if you wish to act politely to your wife and daughter write to the Star and Garter at Richmond, or the Toy at Hampton Court, and order a choice dinner beforehand for a select party; then we should be thought something of, and be able to dine in comfort, without being scrowged up in a corner by a Leadenhall landlady, or elbowed out of every mouthful by a Smithfield salesman."
"There it is, Mr. Blackmantle, that's the evil of a man having a few pounds more in his purse than his neighbours—it makes him miserable with his family at home, and prevents him associating with old friends abroad. If you marry my Biddy, make these conditions with her—to dispense with all Mrs. Marigold's maxims on modern manners, and be at liberty to smoke your pipe where, and with whom you please."
"I declare, Pa, one would imagine you wished Mr. Blackmantle to lose all his manners directly after marriage, and all respect for his intended bride beforehand."
"Nothing of the sort, Miss Sharpwit; but, ever since I made the last fortunate contract, you and your mother have contracted a most determined dislike to every thing social and comfortable—haven't I cut the Coger's Society in Bride Lane, and the Glee Club at the Ram in Smithfield? don't I restrain myself to one visit a week to the Jolly Old Scugs{1} Society in Abchurch Lane? haven't I declined the chair of the Free and Easy Johns, and given up my command in the Lumber Troop?—are these no sacrifices? is it nothing to have converted my ancestors' large estate in Thames Street into warehouses, and emigrated westward to be confined in one of your kickshaw cages in Tavistock Square? Don't I keep a chariot and a chaise for your comfort, and consent to be crammed up in a corner at a concert party to hear some foreign stuff I don't understand? Plague take your drives in Hyde Park and promenades in Kensington Gardens! give me the society where I can eat, drink, laugh, joke, and smoke
1 Blue coat boys. The others are all well-known anacreontic
meetings held in the city.
as I like, without being obliged to watch every word and action, as if my tongue was a traitor to my head, and my stomach a tyrant of self-destruction."
The alderman's remonstrance was delivered with so much energy and good temper, that there was no withstanding his argument; a hearty laugh, at the conclusion, from Miss Biddy and myself, accompanied by an ejaculation of "Poor man, how ill you are used!" from his lady, restored all to good-humour, and obtained the "quid pro quo," a consent on their parts to yield to old customs, and, for once in a way, to allow the alderman to have a day of his own. The next morning early an open barouche received our party, the coachman being particularly cautioned not to drive too fast, to afford the alderman an opportunity of luxuriating upon the reminiscences of olden time.
As the carriage rolled down the hill turning out of the New Road the alderman was particularly eloquent in pointing out and describing the once celebrated tea gardens, Bagnigge Wells.