In a paper headed “Hotels,” Mr. Smith expatiates somewhat tediously on the “old-established house” of the “old coaching days.” He says “the inmates of the coffee-room were mostly commercial travellers.” Those gentlemen may have been permitted to use the coffee-room; but my recollection of such places tells me that the commercials always had a room of their own, specially provided for them.
The writer goes on to tell us that “the commercial gents,” on the occasion of his discovery of them in the coffee-room, “pulled off their boots—not a very delicate performance—before everybody; and then, after sitting over the fire, and drinking hot brown brandy and water until they were nearly at red heat, ordered ‘a pan of coals,’ and went to bed.”
Yes; and provided an excellent subject for Leech, worthy of being reproduced here, or anywhere, if only for that inimitable old chambermaid, who has lighted commercial gents to bed any time these forty years.
Judging from the twist of the commercial’s necktie as he follows, or rather staggers, after the ancient maid, the brown brandy has done its work; and it is ten to one against his carrying that box of patterns safely upstairs.
One boot is successfully removed from commercial number two, and it will evidently not be the fault of the man who is struggling with the other if it does not follow suit.
Let the observer note the marked difference in character in all these figures, as well as the skill and truth with which the details in the room are rendered.
In 1851 Bloomerism was in full bloom, or rather the attempts of few foolish people to make it prevail amongst us were so persistent as to bring upon them attacks by pen and pencil.
As I have already drawn attention to the craze, and to some examples of the way Leech dealt with it, I should have made no further allusion to the subject had I not found in the pages of the Month drawings of such charm that, in justice to the magazine and my readers, I felt I must notice them.
First, then, we have a Bloomer whip “tooling” her friends down to the races. If Bloomerism prevailed, this is the sight that Epsom might have seen in the year 1851, to say nothing of equestrian bloomers of whose horsewomanship Leech shows us examples.
I think in my last selection from the Month I might claim for myself a position resembling that of the pyrotechnic artist whose display of fireworks culminates in a glorious blaze in the last scene of his entertainment, if I were permitted to introduce it.