I was going to tell you about Nick Mahon's holding, but it's gone clean out of my head, for I was called away to the police-office to bail out Paddy Byrne, the dirty little spalpeen; I wish I never took him from home. He saw a man running off with a yellow valise,—this is his story,—and thinking it was mine, he gave him chase; he doubled and turned,—now under an omnibus, now through a dark passage,—till Paddy overtook him at last, and gave him a clippeen on the left ear, and a neat touch of the foot that sent him sprawling. This done, Paddy shouldered the spoil, and made for the inn; but what d' ye think? It turned out to be another man's trunk, and Paddy was taken up for the robbery; and what with the swearing of the police, Pat's yells, and Mrs. D.'s French, I have passed such a half-hour as I hope never to see again. Two "Naps." settled it all, however, and five francs to the Brigadier, as well-dressed a chap as the Commander of the Forces at home; but foreigners, it seems, are the devil for bribery. When I told Pat I 'd stop it out of his wages, he was for rushing out, and taking what he called the worth of his money out of the blackguard; so that I had to lock him into my room, and there he is now, crying and screeching like mad. This will be my excuse for anything I may make in way of mistakes; for, to say truth, my head is fairly moidered! As it is, we 've lost a trunk; and when Mrs. D. discovers that it was the one containing all her new silk dresses, and a famous red velvet that was to take the shine out of the Tuileries, we'll have the devil to pay! She's in a blessed humor, besides, for she says she saw the Brigadier wink at Mary Anne, and that it was a good kicking he deserved, instead of a five-franc piece; and now she's turning on me in the vernacular, in which, I regret to say, her fluency has no impediment. I must now conclude, my dear Tom, for it 's quite beyond me to remember more than that I am, as ever,
Your sincere friend,
Kenny I. Dodd.
Betty Cobb insists upon being sent home; this is more of it! The journey will cost a ten-pound note, if Mrs. D. can't succeed in turning her off of it. I 'm afraid the economy, at least, begins badly.
LETTER II. MRS. DODD TO MISTRESS MARY GALLAGHER, AT DODSBOROUGH
Hotel of the Baths, Ostend. Dear Molly,—This is the first blessed moment of quiet I've had since I quitted home; and even now there's the table d'hôte of sixty-two in the next room, and a brass band in the lobby, with, to be sure, the noisiest set of wretches as waiters ever I heard, shouting, screaming, knife-jingling, plate-crashing, and cork-drawing, till my head is fairly turned with the turmoil. The expense is cruel, besides,—eighteen francs a day for the rooms, although James sleeps in the salon; and if you saw the bed,—his father swears it was a mignonette-box in one of the windows! The eating is beautiful; that must be allowed. Two soups, three fishes, five roast chickens, and a piece of veal, stewed with cherries; a dish of chops with chiccory, and a meat-pie garnished with cock's-combs,—you maybe sure I didn't touch them; after them there was a carp, with treacle, and a big plate of larks and robins, with eggs of the same, all round. Then came the heavy eating: a roast joint of beef, with a batter-pudding, and a turkey stuffed with chestnuts, ducks ditto, with olives and onions, and a mushroom tart, made of grated chickens and other condiments. As for the sweets, I don't remember the half of them, nor do I like to try, for poor dear James got a kind of surfeit, and was obliged to go to bed and have a doctor,—a complaint, they tell me, mighty common among the English on first coming abroad. He was a nice man, and only charged five francs. I wish you 'd tell Peter Belton that; for though we subscribe a pound a year to the dispensary, Mr. Peter thinks to get six shillings a visit every time he comes over to Dodsborough,—a pleasant ride of eleven miles,—and sure of something to eat, besides; and now that I think of it, Molly, 'tis what's called the learned professions in Ireland is eating us all up,—the attorneys, the doctors, the parsons. Look at them abroad: Mr. Krauth, a remarkably nice man, and a consul, told me, last night, that for two-and-sixpence of our money you 'd have the best advice, law or medical, the Continent affords; and even that same is a comfort!
The table d' hôte is not without some drawbacks, however, my dear Molly, for only yesterday I caught an officer, the Brigadier of the Gendarmerie they call him, throwing sly glances at Mary Anne across the table. I mentioned it to K. I., but like all fathers that were a little free-and-easy when young, he said, "Pooh! nonsense, dear. 'Tis the way of foreigners; you'll get used to it at last." We dined to-day in our own room; and just to punish us, as I suppose, they gave us a scrag of mutton and two blue-legged chickens; and by the bill before me,—for I have it made up every day,—I see "dîner particulier" put down five francs a head, and the table d'hôte is for two!
K. I. was in a blessed passion, and cursed my infernal prudery, as he called it. To be sure, I did n't know it was to cost us a matter of fifteen francs. And now he 's gone off to the café, and Mary Anne is crying in her own room, while Caroline is nursing James; for, to tell you the truth, Betty Cobb is no earthly use to us; and as for Paddy Byrne, 't is bailing him out of the police-office and paying fines for him we are, all day.
We 'll scarcely save much this first quarter, for what with travelling expenses and the loss of my trunk,—I believe I told you that some villain carried away the yellow valise, with the black satin trimmed with blonde, and the peach-colored "gros de Naples," and my two elegant ball-dresses, one covered with real Limerick lace,—these losses, and the little contingencies of the road, will run away with most of our economies; but if we live we learn, and we 'll do better afterwards.