Cruikshank, George.—Caricaturist, born September 27, 1792. Illustrated Hone’s political squibs, 1817-20; “Peter Schlemil, Mornings at Bow-Street,” and in conjunction with his brother “Tom and Jerry,” and many other books since, died 1879.
D.
Dab.—A bed, also a slight blow, as a dab on the cheek.
Daffy.—Gin, Gin, sweet, sweet Gin! Pierce Egan says in his “Book of Sports and Mirror of Life.”—“During the time Tom Belcher was the landlord of the Castle Tavern, Holborn, the Daffy Club was started by Mr. James Soares”—See Baron Nab’em.—“The above club is a complete antidote to the Blue Devils, and has to boast of greater advantages than any other Society in the Metropolis, from its members being always in Spirits! Formality does not belong to this Institution; it has no written rules to bind its members; no specified time of meeting; no fines for non-attendance; but the corner-stone is “To do what is right.”—The only definition I can give to the term “Daffy” is that the phrase was coined at the Mint of Fancy, and has since passed current without being overhauled as queer. The squeamish Fair One who takes the Daffy regularly on the sly merely to cure the vapours, politely names it to her friends as “White Wine.” The Swell chaffs it as “Blue Ruin” to elevate his notions. The Laundress loves dearly a drain of “Ould Tom,” from its strength to comfort her inside. The drag Fiddler can toss off a quartern of “Max” without making a wry mug. The Coster Monger illumines his ideas with “a flash of lightning.” The hoarse Cyprian owes her existence to copious draughts of “Jacky.” The Link Boy and Mud Larks, in joining their browns together, are for some “Stark Naked.” And the Out and Outers, from the addition of bitters to it in order to sharpen up a dissipated and damaged Victualling Office, cannot take any thing but “Fuller’s Earth.” Much it should seem, therefore, depends upon a name; and as a soft sound is at all times pleasing to the listener—to have denominated the Sporting Society the “GIN CLUB,” would not only have proved barbarous to the ear, but the vulgarity of the chaunt might have deprived it of many of its elegant friends. It is a subject, however, which must be admitted has a good deal of Taste belonging to it—and as a Sporting Man would be nothing if he was not flash, the DAFFY CLUB meet under the above title.”
Dairies.—Bosom—a woman’s breasts. Milk-cans!
Dandy.—A coxcomb, a fop; an empty-headed, vain person. In 1820, when Geo. III. mizzled, and Geo. IV. reigned with thunder and lightning speed. Pierce Egan published the birth, parentage, and education of the Dandy thus: The Dandy was got by Vanity out of Affectation—his dam, Petit-Maître or Maccaroni—his grand-dam, Fribble—great-grand-dam, Bronze—his great-great-great-grand-dam, Coxcomb—and his earliest ancestor, Fop. His uncle Impudence—his three brothers Trick, Humbug, and Fudge! and allied to the extensive family of the Shuffletons. Indeed, this Bandbox sort of creature took so much the lead in the walks of fashion, that the Buck was totally missing; the Blood vanished; the Tippy not to be found, the Go out of date; the Dash not to be met with; and the Bang-up without a leader, at fault, and in the back-ground. It was only the Corinthian that remained triumphant—his excellence was of such a genuine quality that all imitation was left at an immeasurable distance.
Dandiprat.—An insignificent or trifling fellow.
Dandy-cock.—A little dandy man, one of the Bantam breed.
Darkey.—Night, also a man of colour.
Dead-beat.—Quite done up, not a leg to stand on. Common phrases in the Sporting World, when a man or a horse is so completely exhausted with over-exertion, or the constitution breaking down, as to give up the object in view, not being able to pursue it any farther.