A Talleyrandism.—The worst form of borrower is he who borrows with the intention of repaying, for you know he intends to borrow again.
VISIT OF THE THAMES AND MEDWAY
TO THE
ROYAL COMMISSIONERS OF THE CITY.
The inhabitants of Parliament Street were lately thrown into a state of great excitement by the appearance of a lady and gentleman, who came out of one of the lanes leading from the river, and asked every one whom they met to show them where the Royal Commissioners were sitting. The gentleman, who rather surlily informed the too curious crowd that he was Father Thames, was attired in a quaint and singular garb. "All round his head" he wore, not merely "a green willow," but a profusion of reeds, rullies, and osiers, whilst his feet and legs were thickly coated with mud and sand, which made one of the bystanders (a Common Councilman on his way to the Commissioners) observe, that "the stranger's lower extremities were most in need of the hosiers." His waist was garnished by a quantity of bricks, beams, planks, and piles, strung round him without any regard to order or symmetry, and, by their bulk and weight, greatly impeding his progress. He carried his well-known urn under his arm, like an opera hat; but, on passing a window in which Ransome's Patent Filters were exposed for sale, he looked wistfully at them, and observed to his companion, that he should like to swop the urn against one. A Kentish farmer (one of a deputation who had been explaining to the Home Secretary the connection between the Bank Charter and the disease in the hops) recognised in the lady an old friend named Medway, who is in the habit of staying on his estate for some months in every year. She had dressed her head with wild-flowers of every hue; her gown "was a blue watered silk; and from her waist hung, by way of châtelaine, a string of locks. A number of keys graced her companion's girdle", but we are unable to say if his quays belonged to her locks.
Upon the introduction of these illustrious characters to the Royal Commission the usual question—"Have you anything to say about the Corporation?"—was put to them, and Father Thames at once gave his evidence, in his usual flowing style:
"Had for many years been committed to the care of the Corporation, but had received at their hands nothing but ill treatment. Remembered that many aquatic plants once adorned the whole course of his stream. Had been told by worthy Master Camden that those curious botanists, Dr. Plukenet and Mr. Doody, found on the Thames at Westminster, bitter cresses, the three-cornered bulrush, the water reed grass with an oat-like pannicle, and a great pond-weed with pellucid leaves. Believed that the same locality could not now produce a reed worth a rush. Remembered that salmon, lampreys, mullet, and other fish, used to ascend his stream above Westminster, until the Corporation suffered that stream to be polluted by various abominations. Never saw any fish now, excepting those which were thrown in, dead, by the clerk of the markets. Had heard of Whitebait; but had never seen any. Believed them to be no fish—but a composition of lard, flour, and gold-beaters' skin. Had some Swans still, but they never sang now. Did not think any one would listen to them if they did, as 'The Song of the Turtle' had superior attractions. Remembered to have heard three of them singing 'Water parted from the Sea,' to Mr. Pope, one evening, at Twickenham. On another occasion, had heard Taylor, the Water Poet, trying to teach them 'A Boat, a Boat unto the Ferry.' Believed they ceased to sing when the City gave up its poet laureate. Thought there should be Writers to the Cygnet in London, as well as in Edinburgh, but they must not write in Scotch, as the swans would sing no Scotch song, except, perhaps, "Wha'll buy Caller Herrin?" Had not seen a Naiad for many years, and thought the last had emigrated to Ball's Pond, and set up as a clear starcher. Had been much reduced in size by these and other troubles, but regretted to say the Corporation had taken advantage of his diminished channel to build upon his sides. Had been accused of shifting his bed. So would the Corporation, if their bed had been filled with mud and shingle. Thought they should have kept his bed cleaner. Would like to alter the old proverb, for their benefit, and wished that 'as they had made his bed, so they might lie in it.'"
Father Thames having concluded his evidence, his sister Medway was about to offer her statement of grievances, when an usher announced that the Water Bailiff was coming up stairs. Upon which the two rivers, with, fear and perturbation in their countenances, scuttled out of a side door in dread of meeting that terrible functionary.