“Tom and Jerry, previously to the arrival of the apparel-furnisher, had been discussing the advantages resulting from dress and ADDRESS; and the Corinthian had also been pointing out to his Coz not to skim too lightly over so important a subject, but to peruse with most marked attention that grand living Book of books:—MAN!!!”
Whetstone Park.—A lane between Holborn and Lincoln’s-Inn-Field’s. Formerly famed for being the resort of women of the town.
Whistling Shop.—A place in which spirits are sold without a licence. “Who that has ever visited a Friend undergoing a three months’ purification in the Fleet or King’s Bench, but has been introduced to a Whistling Shop; and who that has been initiated into its sacred rites, would basely betray his knowledge. No one at all ambitious of bearing the character of the real thing. Neither Mr. Brown nor Marshal Jones would thank any Paul Pry for splitting on this point. Any reader that may not have visited a Whistling Shop, cannot do better than put a little of the bustle in his poke; call on the first Friend he has in Limbo, and get introduced to one as quickly as possible; and thus do a double good, furnish himself with a little useful information, and cheer a Pal in distress at the same time.
Whitechapel.—Anything low, mean, or paltry. A Whitechapel portion, a smock, and what nature gave. Whitechapel breed, fat, ragged, and saucy. Whitechapel Beau, one who dresses with a needle and thread, and undresses with a knife. A Whitechapel Brougham, a costermonger’s donkey-barrow.
Wipe.—A nose handkerchief.
Wrench, Benjamin.—Comedian; original Corinthian Tom at the Adelphi, died November 24, 1843, aged 67.
Wrekin Tavern.—In Broad Court, Drury Lane, was much frequented by first-rate theatricals, authors, poets, painters, gentlemen of the press, men of the world, and intelligent persons in general, and was a house of entertainment of no common description, kept at the time by a Mr. Williams, a person connected with literary pursuits. It was to the Wrekin Tavern that Edmund Kean was conveyed on the ever-memorable night of the 24th of March, 1833, when he partly played Othello to his son Charles’s Iago, at Covent Garden Theatre. And described thus by his biographer:—
“After making one or two feeble steps towards his son, and attempting the speech of:—
Villian, be sure thou prove my love a whore;
Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof, &c.
“When his head sunk on his son’s shoulder, and the tragedian’s acting was at an end. He was able to groan out a few words in Charles’s ear—‘I am dying—speak to them for me;’ after which (the audience refusing in kindness, to hear any apology) he was borne from the stage. His son, assisted by other persons, carried him to his dressing-room, and laid him on a sofa. He was as cold as ice; his pulse was scarcely perceptible; and he was unconscious of all that was going on around him. In this state he remained some time, when the remedies which were applied having restored him to his senses, he was taken to the ‘Wrekn’ Tavern, near the theatre, and Messrs. Carpue and Duchez, the surgeons, were sent for. From the Wrekin Tavern, he was after a week’s stay, removed to Richmond: where he died on the fifteenth day of May, 1833.”