The Irishmen say, “Who has e’er had the luck to see Donnybrook Fair?” We ask, “Who has e’er had the luck to see Mistress Emerson on a race-course? We have, and a greater out-and-outer we never met—“Rich and rare were the gems she wore:”—and there you may see the gay old gal togged to the extreme of fashion, with pink silk stockings to display her well-shaped understandings—for we must inform our readers that mother don’t stand upon trifles—generally a nice satin shoe and dress; also lots-and-lots of jewellery, stated to be worth, including thimble, hoops, and chin-prop, something approaching a cool thousand. It is a great advantage to single gentlemen wot go to the races to be acquainted with mother; she always takes a plentiful supply of wittles, and an awful lot of the sparkling and still—not the private still; for amongst her friends and patrons she makes it as public as possible, and when she is really “standing sam,” as she facetiously calls it, you can’t make more free than welcome.
In conclusion, we must observe that we do justice to every one, and seek not to gain popularity by villifying those who are not in a situation to resent it. In many—very many instances the public little know—or care of whom they speak, and we are all too prone to come to hasty conclusions, and to speak with prejudice and without inquiry. Now be it known to all who care to know, that, Mrs. Emerson is really and truly a very kind-hearted and charitable person, in spite of the very disadvantageous position she stands in with the public by keeping a night-house. She strives as much as possible to prevent the ingress of improper characters, and so far she is successful, for no robbery has ever taken place in her house since she has been in business.
Mother H’s.—Was a notorious night-house opposite the front entrance of Drury Lane Theatre, and then the great rendezvous for the gay city birds, as well as the more fantastic dandies of the West-end. Mother H., or Mrs. Hoskins, was the remnant of Mr. Hoskins, who had, in the words of George Barrington, the pickpocket, par excellence! “Left his country for his country’s good.” Mother H. is described by a writer who knew her well as the “ugliest woman I ever beheld; but she dearly loved paint, dress, and decorations. Her attire was in the highest style of fashion, generally black velvet or satin, jewellery in profusion, silk stockings, and very neat kid shoes. She had rather a pretty ankle.” “Apropos of her shoes, I may remark that the old girl was artful, deceitful, and dishonest. I remember a half-drunken, foolish fellow dropping a handful of sovereigns in the large supper-room. A number of the fair and frail were present; Mother H. said, “Now girls, stand away, I’ll pick them up and see that the gentleman ain’t robbed;” she should have added, “By any one but myself,” for about every second sovereign she took from the floor she “welled” in her shoes. “Well,” said one of the girls; “I don’t blame you mother, but I should like to stand in your shoes.” Mother H. retired with an ample fortune. Turned—as a matter of course, very religious, married a highly respectable timber merchant at Brighton, who died and left her money. She again tried her luck in the matrimonial lottery, although nearly seventy years of age. Her third husband was a serious, calm, tall and respectable Dissenter, who outlived her.”
Mother’s Milk.—The liquor we like best.
Mouse.—Is a black—or perhaps, more correctly speaking, a swollen eye.
Move on the Board.—An action in life.
Mudlarks.—Men who rake about the mud on the banks of the Thames, when the tide is out, for what they can find.
Muff.—A soft article, a tool, a fool: a soft thing that holds a lady’s hand without squeezing it!
Munden, Joseph.—Comedian, died February 6, 1832, aged 74.
Mutton Walk.—The Saloons of Drury Lane and Covent Garden Theatres—“Upon the arrival of Tom and Jerry at Drury Lane Theatre, the performances did not operate on their feelings as a source of attraction. It is true they took a glimpse at the play, but as they did not go for anything like criticism on the abilities of the actors, or to descant upon the merits of the pieces, it was merely a glimpse indeed. Our heroes went upon another errand. Their eyes were directed to different parts of the house; and Tom not meeting with any of his acquaintances at ‘Old Drury,’ as he had anticipated, they immediately pushed off to take a peep at Covent Garden Theatre. A look at the stage was quite sufficient for their purpose; and without any more delay, the Corinthian and Jerry soon bustled into the Saloon.