Wi’ glee that day.”
Cumberland Poem.
In the ardour of our admiration at the Crystal Palace, we have forgotten the Hero of our story, the simple, but ill-starred individual, who quitted his native mountains with the special view of beholding the wonders of the Great Exhibition.
Like all those who could spare the money, and like many who could not, Mr. Christopher Sandboys, at the special injunction of his beloved Aggy, had made up his mind to invest five golden pieces of the lawful and current coin of Great Britain in the purchase of a brace of admission-tickets for himself and his better half, so that he and his “good lady” might join the rest of the world in witnessing the ceremony of the inauguration.
After a series of visits, first to Mr. Sams the librarian, thence to the Society of Arts in John-street, and thence to the office of the Executive Committee, Christopher was at last permitted, as a special favour, to convert his five sovereigns into two small pieces of pasteboard, entitling himself and his wife to the right of admission to the Crystal Palace throughout the season. Having achieved this great feat, he made the best of his way back to the partner of his bosom, to gratify her with the tidings of the successful issue of his errand.
Then, of course, came the important inquiry as to what dress Mrs. Sandboys should make her appearance in at the ceremony, and it was unanimously declared, as usual, that the lady had not “a thing to put on;” woman like, she had much rather stay at home unless she could appear “decent, at least,” on the auspicious occasion; she had no particular wish to go, and Cursty could take Jobby with him in her place.
Mr. Christopher Sandboys, though he found that his funds—what with the losses and expenses that he had incurred since his departure from Cumberland—were getting unpleasantly low, still, to obtain that domestic peace and quietude, which, as an aspiring philosopher, he valued above all earthly things, at length, with becoming resignation, submitted to the infliction of a new dress, a mantle, and bonnet for the occasion.
On the eventful morning, Mrs. Sandboys was up and stirring long before the sparrows, and they, according to the celebrated ornithologist (who sat up every night for a whole year, in order to discover the usual hours of getting up among the different species of the feathered race), are the earliest risers of all the early birds. Nor would the impatient Aggy allow Cursty to enjoy those extra forty winks for which he prayed, before proceeding to the operations of his toilet.
But though Mrs. Sandboys was going to take part in the opening of the Great Exhibition, Ann Lightfoot, her maid, felt in no way inclined to have her night’s rest curtailed of its fair proportion, in order that Mr. Sandboys’ shaving-water might be ready some few hours before the usual time.
It was in vain that Mrs. Sandboys pulled, and pulled, at the bed-room bell; for though peal followed peal in smart succession, still no Ann Lightfoot made her appearance in answer to the summons.