Mr. Slick visited me late last night, dressed as if he had been at a party, but very cross, and, as usual when in that frame of mind, he vented his ill-humour on the English.
“Where have you been to-night, Mr. Slick?”
“Jist where the English hosses will be,” he replied, “when Old Clay comes here to this country;—no where. I have been on a stair-case, that’s where I have been; and a pretty place to see company in, ain’t it? I have been jammed to death in an entry, and what’s wus than all, I have given one gall a black eye with my elbow, tore another one’s frock off with my buttons, and near about cut a third one’s leg in two with my hat. Pretty well for one night’s work, ain’t it? and for me too, that’s so fond of the dear little critturs, I wouldn’t hurt a hair of their head, if I could help it, to save my soul alive. What a spot o’ work!
“What the plague do people mean here by askin’ a mob to their house, and invitin’ twice as many as can get into it? If they think it’s complimental, they are infarnally mistaken, that’s all: it’s an insult and nothin’ else, makin’ a fool of a body that way. Heavens and airth! I am wringing wet! I’m ready to faint! Where’s the key of your cellaret? I want some brandy and water. I’m dead; bury me quick, for I won’t be nice directly. Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp her bones are!
“I wish to goodness you’d go to a Swoi-ree oncet, Squire, jist oncet—a grand let off, one that’s upper crust and rael jam. It’s worth seein’ oncet jist as a show, I tell you, for you have no more notion of it than a child. All Halifax, if it was swept up clean and shook out into a room, wouldn’t make one swoi-ree. I have been to three to night, and all on ‘em was mobs—regular mobs. The English are horrid fond of mobs, and I wonder at it too; for of all the cowardly, miserable, scarry mobs, that ever was seen in this blessed world, the English is the wust. Two dragoons will clear a whole street as quick as wink, any time. The instant they see ‘em, they jist run like a flock of sheep afore a couple of bull dogs, and slope off properly skeered. Lawful heart, I wish they’d send for a dragoon, all booted, and spurred, and mounted, and let him gallop into a swoi-ree, and charge the mob there. He’d clear ‘em out I know, double quick: he’d chase one quarter of ‘em down stairs head over heels, and another quarter would jump out o’ the winders, and break their confounded necks to save their lives, and then the half that’s left, would he jist about half too many for comfort.
“My first party to-night wus a conversation one; that is for them that could talk; as for me I couldn’t talk a bit, and all I could think was, ‘how infarnal hot it is! I wish I could get in!’ or, ‘oh dear, if I could only get out!’ It was a scientific party, a mob o’ men. Well, every body expected somebody would be squashed to death, and so ladies went, for they always go to executions. They’ve got a kinder nateral taste for the horrors, have women. They like to see people hanged or trod to death, when they can get a chance. It was a conversation warn’t it? that’s all. I couldn’t understand a word I heard. Trap shale Greywachy; a petrified snail, the most important discovery of modern times. Bank governor’s machine weighs sovereigns, light ones go to the right, and heavy ones to the left.
“‘Stop,’ says I, ‘if you mean the sovereign people here, there are none on ‘em light. Right and left is both monstrous heavy; all over weight, every one on ‘em. I’m squeezed to death.’
“‘Very good, Mr. Slick. Let me introduce you to ——,’ they are whipt off in the current, and I don’t see ‘em again no more. ‘A beautiful shew of flowers, Madam, at the garden: they are all in full blow now. The rhododendron—had a tooth pulled when she was asleep.’ ‘Please to let me pass, Sir.’ ‘With all my heart, Miss, if I could; but I can’t move; if I could I would down on the carpet, and you should walk over me. Take care of your feet, Miss, I am off of mine. Lord bless me! what’s this? why as I am a livin’ sinner, it’s half her frock hitched on to my coat button. Now I know what that scream meant.’
“‘How do you do, Mr. Slick? When did you come?’ ‘Why I came—’ he is turned round, and shoved out o’ hearin.’ ‘Xanthian marbles at the British Museum are quite wonderful; got into his throat, the doctor turned him upside down, stood him on his head, and out it came—his own tunnel was too small.’ ‘Oh, Sir, you are cuttin’ me.’ ‘Me, Miss! Where had I the pleasure of seein’ you before, I never cut a lady in my life, could’nt do so rude a thing. Havn’t the honour to recollect you.’ ‘Oh, Sir, take it away, it cuts me.’ Poor thing, she is distracted, I don’t wonder. She’s drove crazy, though I think she must have been mad to come here at all. ‘Your hat, Sir.’ ‘Oh, that cussed French hat is it? Well, the rim is as stiff and as sharp as a cleaver, that’s a fact, I don’t wonder it cut you.’ ‘Eddis’s pictur—capital painting, fell out of the barge, and was drowned.’ ‘Having been beat on the shillin’ duty; they will attach him on the fourpence, and thimble rigg him out of that.’ ‘They say Sugden is in town, hung in a bad light, at the Temple Church.’——‘Who is that?’ ‘Lady Fobus; paired off for the Session; Brodie operated.’——Lady Francis; got the Life Guards; there will be a division to-night.’——That’s Sam Slick; I’ll introduce you; made a capital speech in the House of Lords, in answer to Brougham—Lobelia—voted for the bill—The Duchess is very fond of——Irish Arms—’
“Oh! now I’m in the entry. How tired I am! It feels shockin’ cold here, too, arter comin’ out o’ that hot room. Guess I’ll go to the grand musical party. Come, this will do; this is Christian-like, there is room here; but the singin’ is in next room, I will go and hear them. Oh! here they are agin; it’s a proper mob this. Cuss, these English, they can’t live out of mobs. Prince Albert is there in that room; I must go and see him. He is popular; he is a renderin’ of himself very agreeable to the English, is Prince: he mixes with them as much as he can; and shews his sense in that. Church steeples are very pretty things: that one to Antwerp is splendiriferous; it’s everlastin’ high, it most breaks your neck layin’ back your head to look at it; bend backward like a hoop, and stare at it once with all your eyes, and you can’t look up agin, you are satisfied. It tante no use for a Prince to carry a head so high as that, Albert knows this; he don’t want to be called the highest steeple, cause all the world knows he is about the top loftiest; but he want’s to descend to the world we live in.