The barber's chair; and, The hedgehog letters

by Douglas William Jerrold

Tickle. Perhaps, then, you’ll tell us a little about it?

Nutts. Well, then, you see, having got my ticket from my friend the Minister—ha! you don’t know the private interest mixed up with shaving, after all—having got my ticket, I say, I drove down in a patent safety to the House of Lords, jest no more than if it was any other public-house I was in the habit of going to.

Limpy. The Bag o’ Nails, or the Cat and Whistle?

Nutts. Just so. Human nature’s weak, and—I confess it—as I went rolling along atween the rows of people waiting in the street, with their feet freezing to the flags, to catch a glance of the Queen through her carriage windows—I confess it, I did a little pity ’em. Well, I went to the lobby, and there was such a crowd! If I trod upon the toes of many peeresses, I hope I shall be forgiven for it. I squeezed into the House—and wasn’t there a scramblin’ for seats! You see, there was some benches that the ladies wanted to storm; but they wouldn’t let ’em; they were kept for the Lords.

Mrs Nutts. No doubt on it. Jest like ’em.

Nutts. And how the ladies’ voices did ring! You would have thought you heard all at once twenty thousand canary-birds. I expected every minute they’d charge through the officers and carry the benches; indeed, I’m pretty sure they’d have done it, when the sound of a trumpet tore through the House, and on a sudden they were as mute as mice.

Slowgoe. The trumpet meant her Gracious Majesty, of course?

Nutts. Not a bit on it: it only meant the Duke of Cambridge. Well, when he came in, he shook hands with a lot of lords, and seemed as happy as if he was at a prize cattle-show.

Slowgoe. If you’re going to be profane, much as I want to hear the rest, I shall leave the shop. Tell your tale, and no revolutionary comparisons. Who else did you see?

Nutts. Why, all the ’bassadors; and among ’em the French Ambassador, looking as if nothing had happened, and the Spanish Princess was still a spinster. But, bless your heart! it’s only folks that can look anything, that are chose for ’bassadors. And then there was such clouds of lawn!