Paul Clifford — Complete
us two that we all agreed to go shares in our marriage speculations; I
fancy the worthy captain will think it a bad bargain for himself.”
“I am not so sure of that, Mr. Tomlinson,” said Long Ned, sourly eying
his comrade. “Some women may be caught by a smooth skin and a showy
manner; but real masculine beauty,--eyes, colour, and hair,--Mr.
Tomlinson, must ultimately make its way; so hand me the brandy, and
cease your jaw.”
“Well, well,” said Tomlinson, “I'll give you a toast,--'The prettiest
girl in England,' and that's Miss Brandon!”
“You shall give no such toast, sir!” said Clifford, starting from the
bench. “What the devil is Miss Brandon to you? And now, Ned,” seeing
that the tall hero looked on him with an unfavourable aspect, “here's my
hand; forgive me if I was uncivil. Tomlinson will tell you, in a maxim,
men are changeable. Here's to your health; and it shall not be my fault,
gentlemen, if we have not a merry evening!”
This speech, short as it was, met with great applause from the two
friends; and Clifford, as president, stationed himself in a huge chair
at the head of the table. Scarcely had he assumed this dignity, before
the door opened, and half-a-dozen of the gentlemen confederates trooped
somewhat noisily into the apartment.
“Softly, softly, messieurs,” said the president, recovering all
his constitutional gayety, yet blending it with a certain negligent
command,--“respect for the chair, if you please! 'T is the way with all
assemblies where the public purse is a matter of deferential interest!”
“Hear him!” cried Tomlinson.
“What, my old friend Bags!” said the president; “you have not come
empty-handed, I will swear; your honest face is like the table of
contents to the good things in your pockets!”
“Ah, Captain Clifford,” said the veteran, groaning, and shaking his
reverend head, “I have seen the day when there was not a lad in England
forked so largely, so comprehensively-like, as I did. But, as King Lear
says at Common Garden, 'I be's old now!'”
“But your zeal is as youthful as ever, my fine fellow,” said the
captain, soothingly; “and if you do not clean out the public as
thoroughly as heretofore, it is not the fault of your inclinations.”
“No, that it is not!” cried the “tax-collectors” unanimously.
“And if ever a pocket is to be picked neatly, quietly, and effectually,”
added the complimentary Clifford, “I do not know to this day, throughout
the three kingdoms, a neater, quieter, and more effective set of fingers
than Old Bags's!”
The veteran bowed disclaimingly, and took his seat among the heartfelt
good wishes of the whole assemblage.
“And now, gentlemen,” said Clifford, as soon as the revellers had
provided themselves with their wonted luxuries, potatory and fumous,
“let us hear your adventures, and rejoice our eyes with their produce.
The gallant Attie shall begin; but first, a toast,--'May those who leap
from a hedge never leap from a tree!'”
This toast being drunk with enthusiastic applause, Fighting Attie began
the recital of his little history.
“You sees, Captain,” said he, putting himself in a martial position,
and looking Clifford full in the face, “that I'm not addicted to much
blarney. Little cry and much wool is my motto. At ten o'clock A.M. saw
the enemy--in the shape of a Doctor of Divinity. 'Blow me,' says I to
Old Bags, 'but I 'll do his reverence!' 'Blow me,' says Old Bags, 'but
you sha' n't,--you'll have us scragged if you touches the Church.'
'My grandmother!' says I. Bags tells the pals,--all in a fuss about
it,--what care I? I puts on a decent dress, and goes to the doctor as
a decayed soldier wot supplies the shops in the turning line. His
reverence--a fat jolly dog as ever you see--was at dinner over a fine
roast pig; so I tells him I have some bargains at home for him. Splice
me, if the doctor did not think he had got a prize; so he puts on his
boots, and he comes with me to my house. But when I gets him into a
lane, out come my pops. 'Give up, Doctor,' says I; 'others must share
the goods of the Church now.' You has no idea what a row he made; but I
did the thing, and there's an end on't.”
“Bravo, Attie!” cried Clifford; and the word echoed round the board.
Attie put a purse on the table, and the next gentleman was called to
confession.
“It skills not, boots not,” gentlest of readers, to record each of
the narratives that now followed one another. Old Bags, in especial,
preserved his well-earned reputation by emptying six pockets, which had
been filled with every possible description of petty valuables. Peasant
and prince appeared alike to have come under his hands; and perhaps the
good old man had done in the town more towards effecting an equality
of goods among different ranks than all the Reformers, from Cornwall to
Carlisle. Yet so keen was his appetite for the sport that the veteran
appropriator absolutely burst into tears at not having “forked more.”
“I love a warm-hearted enthusiasm,” cried Clifford, handling the
movables, while he gazed lovingly on the ancient purloiner. “May new
cases never teach us to forget Old Bags!”
As soon as this “sentiment” had been duly drunk, and Mr. Bagshot had
dried his tears and applied himself to his favourite drink,--which,
by the way, was “blue ruin,”--the work of division took place. The
discretion and impartiality of the captain in this arduous part of his
duty attracted universal admiration; and each gentleman having carefully
pouched his share, the youthful president hemmed thrice, and the society
became aware of a purposed speech.
“Gentlemen!” began Clifford,--and his main supporter, the sapient
Augustus, shouted out, “Hear!”--“gentlemen, you all know that when some
months ago you were pleased, partly at the instigation of Gentleman
George--God bless him!--partly from the exaggerated good opinion
expressed of me by my friends, to elect me to the high honour of the
command of this district, I myself was by no means ambitious to
assume that rank, which I knew well was far beyond my merits, and that
responsibility which I knew with equal certainty was too weighty for my
powers. Your voices, however, overruled my own; and as Mr. Muddlepud,
the great metaphysician, in that excellent paper, 'The Asinaeum,'
was wont to observe, 'the susceptibilities, innate, extensible,
incomprehensible, and eternal,' existing in my bosom, were infinitely
more powerful than the shallow suggestions of reason,--that ridiculous
thing which all wise men and judicious Asinaeans sedulously stifle.”
“Plague take the man! what is he talking about?” said Long Ned, who we
have seen was of an envious temper, in a whisper to Old Bags. Old Bags
shook his head.
“In a word, gentlemen,” renewed Clifford, “your kindness overpowered me;
and despite my cooler inclinations, I accepted your flattering proposal.
Since then I have endeavoured, so far as I have been able, to advance
your interests; I have kept a vigilant eye upon all my neighbours; I
have, from county to county, established numerous correspondents; and
our exertions have been carried on with a promptitude that has ensured
success.
“Gentlemen, I do not wish to boast; but on these nights of periodical
meetings, when every quarter brings us to go halves,--when we meet in
private to discuss the affairs of the public, show our earnings as
it were in privy council, and divide them amicably as it were in the
Cabinet ['Hear! hear!' from Mr. Tomlinson],--it is customary for your
captain for the time being to remind you of his services, engage
your pardon for his deficiencies, and your good wishes for his future
exertions. Gentlemen, has it ever been said of Paul Lovett that he heard
of a prize and forgot to tell you of his news? ['Never! never!' loud
cheering.] Has it ever been said of him that he sent others to seize the
booty, and stayed at home to think how it should be spent? ['No! no!'
repeated cheers.] Has it ever been said of him that he took less share
than his due of your danger, and more of your guineas? [Cries in the
negative, accompanied with vehement applause.] Gentlemen, I thank you
for these flattering and audible testimonials in my favour; but the
points on which I have dwelt, however necessary to my honour, would
prove but little for my merits; they might be worthy notice in your
comrade, you demand more subtle duties in your chief. Gentlemen, has
it ever been said of Paul Lovett that he sent out brave men on forlorn
hopes; that he hazarded your own heads by rash attempts in acquiring
pictures of King George's; that zeal, in short, was greater in him than
caution, or that his love of a quid (A guinea) ever made him neglectful
of your just aversion to a quod? (A prison) [Unanimous cheering.]
“Gentlemen, since I have had the honour to preside over your welfare,
Fortune, which favours the bold, has not been unmerciful to you! But
three of our companions have been missed from our peaceful festivities.
One, gentlemen, I myself expelled from our corps for ungentlemanlike
practices; he picked pockets of fogles, (handkerchiefs)--it was a vulgar
employment. Some of you, gentlemen, have done the same for amusement;
Jack Littlefork did it for occupation. I expostulated with him in public
and in private; Mr. Pepper cut his society; Mr. Tomlinson read him an
essay on Real Greatness of Soul: all was in vain. He was pumped by the
mob for the theft of a bird's-eye wipe. The fault I had borne with,--the
detection was unpardonable; I expelled him. Who's here so base as would
be a fogle-hunter? If any, speak; for him have I offended! Who's here
so rude as would not be a gentleman? If any, speak; for him have I
offended! I pause for a reply! What, none! then none have I offended.
[Loud cheers.] Gentlemen, I may truly add, that I have done no more to
Jack Littlefork than you should do to Paul Lovett! The next vacancy in
our ranks was occasioned by the loss of Patrick Blunderbull. You know,
gentlemen, the vehement exertions that I made to save that misguided
creature, whom I had made exertions no less earnest to instruct. But he
chose to swindle under the name of the 'Honourable Captain Smico;' the
Peerage gave him the lie at once; his case was one of aggravation, and
he was so remarkably ugly that he 'created no interest.' He left us
for a foreign exile; and if as a man I lament him, I confess to you,
gentlemen, as a 'tax-collector' I am easily consoled.
“Our third loss must be fresh in your memory. Peter Popwell, as bold a
fellow as ever breathed, is no more! [A movement in the assembly.]
Peace be with him! He died on the field of battle; shot dead by a Scotch
Colonel, whom poor Popwell thought to rob of nothing with an empty
pistol. His memory, gentlemen,--in solemn silence!
“These make the catalogue of our losses,” resumed the youthful chief,
so soon as the “red cup had crowned the memory” of Peter Popwell; “I am
proud, even in sorrow, to think that the blame of those losses rests
not with me. And now, friends and followers! Gentlemen of the Road, the
Street, the Theatre, and the Shop! Prigs, Tobymen, and Squires of the
Cross! according to the laws of our Society, I resign into your hands
that power which for two quarterly terms you have confided to mine,
ready to sink into your ranks as a comrade, nor unwilling to renounce
the painful honour I have borne,--borne with much infirmity, it is true,
but at least with a sincere desire to serve that cause with which you
have intrusted me.”
So saying, the captain descended from his chair amidst the most
uproarious applause; and as soon as the first burst had partially
subsided, Augustus Tomlinson rising, with one hand in his breeches'
pocket and the other stretched out, said,--
“Gentlemen, I move that Paul Lovett be again chosen as our captain for