SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR Part 1. EBOOK EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION: "Sketches by Seymour" was published in various versions about 1836. My copy has no date and was published by Thomas Fry, London. Some ofthe plates note only Seymour's name, many are inscribed "Engravings byH. Wallis from sketches by Seymour. " There are 90 plates including thetitle pages. I believe this book was originally a compilation of fivesmaller volumes, though the separate volumes are not apparent. From themixed chapter titles the reader may suspect, as I do, that the printerthoroughly mixed up the order of the chapters. The complete set in thisdigital edition is split into five smaller volumes so that each volumeis of a more manageable size than this 7mb complete version. The value of this collection to me is in the art of the engravings. The text seems generally mundane, is full of conundrums and puns thatwere popular in the early 1800's, and is mercifully short. No author isgiven credit for the text though the section titled, "The Autobiographyof Andrew Mullins" may give us at least his pen-name. DW CONTENTS: EVERYDAY SCENES. SCENE I. Sleeping Fisherman. SCENE II. A lark--early in the morning. SCENE III. The rapid march of Intellect! SCENE IV. Sally, I told my missus vot you said. SCENE V. How does it fit behind? SCENE VI. Catching-a cold. SCENE VII. This is vot you calls rowing, is it? SCENE VIII. In for it, or Trying the middle. A DAY'S SPORT. CHAP. I. The Invitation, Outfit, and the sallying forth CHAP. II. The Death of a little Pig CHAP. III. The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure CHAP. IV. Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf! CHAP. V. A Publican taking Orders. CHAP. VI. The Reckoning. CHAP. VII. A sudden Explosion OTHER SCENES. SCENE IX. Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman SCENE X. I begin to think I may as well go back. SCENE XI. Mother says fishes comes from hard roes SCENE XII. Ambition. SCENE XIII. Better luck next time. SCENE XIV. Don't you be saucy, Boys. SCENE XV. Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! SCENE XVI. Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong! SCENE XVII. I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em. SCENE XVIII. Have you read the leader in this paper SCENE XIX. An Epistle from Samuel Softly, Esq. SCENE XX. The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. SCENE XXI. The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. (Continued) SCENE XXII. The Itinerant Musician. SCENE XXIII. The Confessions of a Sportsman. MISCELLANEOUS. PLATE I. THE JOLLY ANGLERS. PLATE II. THE BILL-STICKER. PLATE III. OLD FOOZLE. PLATE IV. THE "CRACK-SHOTS. " No. I. PLATE V. THE "CRACK-SHOTS. " No. II. PLATE VI. THE "CRACK-SHOTS. " No. III. PLATE VII. DOCTOR SPRAGGS. PLATE VIII. [SCENE IX. (b)] Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites? PLATE IX. THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON. PLATE X. THE PIC-NIC. No. I. PLATE XI. THE PIC-NIC. No. II. PLATE XII. THE BUMPKIN. FRONTPIECE II. SHOOTING TITLE PAGE II. VOLUME II. PLATE XIII. [WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL] PLATE XIV. DELICACY! PLATE XV. Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row PLATE XVI. STEAMING IT TO MARGATE. PLATE XVII. PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I. PLATE XVIII. PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II. PLATE XIX. DOBBS'S "DUCK. "--A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN. PLATE XX. STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM. PLATE XXI. A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I. --THE JOURNEY OUT. PLATE XXII. A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II. --THE JOURNEY HOME. PLATE XXIII. [HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream PLATE XXIV. PRACTICE. PLATE XXV. PRECEPT. PLATE XXVI. EXAMPLE. PLATE XXVII. A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. PLATE XXVIII. THE EATING HOUSE. PLATE XXIX. [SCENE X. (b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir PLATE XXX. GONE! PLATE XXXI. THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I. PLATE XXXII. THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II. PLATE XXXIII. FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE. ANDREW MULLINS. --AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. CHAP. I. Introductory CHAP. II. Let the neighbors smell ve has something CHAP. III. I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly CHAP. IV. A Situation. CHAP. V. The Stalking Horse. CHAP. VI. A Commission. CHAP. VII. The Cricket Match CHAP. VIII. The Hunter. CHAP. IX. A Row to Blackwall. CHAP. X. The Pic-Nic. CHAP. XI. The Journey Home. CHAP. XII. Monsieur Dubois. CHAP. XIII. My Talent Called into Active Service. CHAP. XIV. A Dilemma. CHAP. XV. An Old Acquaintance. CHAP. XVI. The Loss of a Friend. CHAP. XVII. Promotion. A RIGMAROLE. PART I. "De omnibus rebus. " PART II. "Acti labores Sunt jucundi" PART III. "Oderunt hilarem tristes. " AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE. PLATE I. Dye think ve shall be in time for the hunt? PLATE II. Vat a rum chap to go over the 'edge that vay! EVERYDAY SCENES. SCENE I. "Walked twenty miles over night: up before peep o' day again got acapital place; fell fast asleep; tide rose up to my knees; my hat waschanged, my pockets picked, and a fish ran away with my hook; dreamt ofbeing on a Polar expedition and having my toes frozen. " O! IZAAK WALTON!--Izaak Walton!--you have truly got me into a preciousline, and I certainly deserve the rod for having, like a gudgeon, sogreedily devoured the delusive bait, which you, so temptingly, threw outto catch the eye of my piscatorial inclination! I have read of rightangles and obtuse angles, and, verily, begin to believe that there arealso right anglers and obtuse anglers--and that I am really one of thelatter class. But never more will I plant myself, like a weeping willow, upon the sedgy bank of stream or river. No!--on no account will I drawupon these banks again, with the melancholy prospect of no effects! Themost 'capital place' will never tempt me to 'fish' again! My best hat is gone: not the 'way of all beavers'--into the water--but tocover the cranium of the owner of this wretched 'tile;' and in vain shallI seek it; for 'this' and 'that' are now certainly as far as the 'poles'asunder. My pockets, too, are picked! Yes--some clever 'artist' has drawn mewhile asleep! My boots are filled with water, and my soles and heels are anything butlively or delighted. Never more will I impale ye, Gentles! on the wordof a gentleman!--Henceforth, O! Hooks! I will be as dead to yourattractions as if I were 'off the hooks!' and, in opposition to the maximof Solomon, I will 'spare the rod. ' Instead of a basket of fish, lo! here's a pretty kettle of fish for theentertainment of my expectant friends--and sha'n't I be baited? as thehook said to the anger: and won't the club get up a Ballad on theoccasion, and I, who have caught nothing, shall probably be made thesubject of a 'catch!' Slush! slush!--Squash! squash! O! for a clean pair of stockings!--But, alack, what a tantalizingsituation I am in!--There are osiers enough in the vicinity, but no hoseto be had for love or money! SCENE II. A lark--early in the morning. Two youths--and two guns appeared at early dawn in the suburbs. Theyouths were loaded with shooting paraphernalia and provisions, and theirguns with the best Dartford gunpowder--they were also well primed forsport--and as polished as their gunbarrels, and both could boast a good'stock' of impudence. "Surely I heard the notes of a bird, " cried one, looking up and down thestreet; "there it is again, by jingo!" "It's a lark, I declare, " asserted his brother sportsman. "Lark or canary, it will be a lark if we can bring it down, " replied hiscompanion. "Yonder it is, in that ere cage agin the wall. " "What a shame!" exclaimed the philanthropic youth, --"to imprison awarbler of the woodlands in a cage, is the very height ofcruelty--liberty is the birthright of every Briton, and British bird! Iwould rather be shot than be confined all my life in such a narrowprison. What a mockery too is that piece of green turf, no bigger than aslop-basin. How it must aggravate the feelings of one accustomed torange the meadows. " "Miserable! I was once in a cage myself, " said his chum. "And what did they take you for?" "Take me for?--for a 'lark. '" "Pretty Dickey!" "Yes, I assure you, it was all 'dickey' with me. " "And did you sing?" "Didn't I? yes, i' faith I sang pretty small the next morning when theyfined me, and let me out. An idea strikes me Suppose you climb up thatpost, and let out this poor bird, ey?" "Excellent. " "And as you let him off, I'll let off my gun, and we'll see whether Ican't 'bang' him in the race. " No sooner said than done: the post was quickly climbed--the door of thecage was thrown open, and the poor bird in an attempt at 'death orliberty, ' met with the former. Bang went the piece, and as soon as the curling smoke was dissipated, they sought for their prize, but in vain; the piece was discharged soclose to the lark, that it was blown to atoms, and the feathers strewedthe pavement. "Bolt!" cried the freedom-giving youth, "or we shall have to pay for thelark. " "Very likely, " replied the other, who had just picked up a few feathers, and a portion of the dissipated 'lark, '--"for look, if here ain'tthe--bill, never trust me. " SCENE III. "You shall have the paper directly, Sir, but really the debates are sovery interesting. " "Oh! pray don't hurry, Sir, it's only the scientific notices I careabout. " What a thrill of pleasure pervades the philanthropic breast on beholdingthe rapid march of Intellect! The lamp-lighter, but an insignificant'link' in the vast chain of society, has now a chance of shining at theMechanics', and may probably be the means of illuminating a whole parish. Literature has become the favourite pursuit of all classes, and thepostman is probably the only man who leaves letters for the vulgarpursuit of lucre! Even the vanity of servant-maids has undergone achange--they now study 'Cocker' and neglect their 'figures. ' But the dustman may be said, 'par excellence, ' to bear--the bell! In the retired nook of an obscure coffee-shop may frequently be observeda pair of these interesting individuals sipping their mocha, newspaper inhand, as fixed upon a column--as the statue of Napoleon in the PlaceVendome, and watching the progress of the parliamentary bills, with asmuch interest as the farmer does the crows in his corn-field! They talk of 'Peel, ' and 'Hume, ' and 'Stanley, ' and bandy about theirnames as familiarly as if they were their particular acquaintances. "What a dust the Irish Member kicked up in the House last night, " remarksone. "His speech was a heap o' rubbish, " replied the other. "And I've no doubt was all contracted for! For my part I was once aReformer--but Rads and Whigs is so low, that I've turned Conservative. " "And so am I, for my Sal says as how it's so genteel!" "Them other chaps after all on'y wants to throw dust in our eyes! Butit's no go, they're no better than a parcel o' thimble riggers justmaking the pea come under what thimble they like, --and it's 'there itis, ' and 'there it ain't, '--just as they please--making black white, andwhite black, just as suits 'em--but the liberty of the press--" "What's the liberty of the press?" "Why calling people what thinks different from 'em all sorts o'names--arn't that a liberty?" "Ay, to be sure!--but it's time to cut--so down with the dust--and let'sbolt!" SCENE IV. "Oh! Sally, I told my missus vot you said your missus said abouther. "--"Oh! and so did I, Betty; I told my missus vot you said yourn saidof her, and ve had sich a row!" SALLY. OH! Betty, ve had sich a row!--there vas never nothink like it;--I'm quite a martyr. To missus's pranks; for, 'twixt you and me, she's a bit of a tartar. I told her vord for vord everythink as you said, And I thought the poor voman vould ha' gone clean out of her head! BETTY. Talk o' your missus! she's nothink to mine, --I on'y hope they von't meet, Or I'm conwinced they vill go to pulling of caps in the street:Sich kicking and skrieking there vas, as you never seed, And she vos sohistorical, it made my wery heart bleed. SALLY. Dear me! vell, its partic'lar strange people gives themselves sich airs, And troubles themselves so much 'bout other people's affairs; For mypart, I can't guess, if I died this werry minute, Vot's the use o' this fuss--I can't see no reason in it. BETTY. Missus says as how she's too orrystocratic to mind wulgar people'stattle, And looks upon some people as little better nor cattle. SALLY. And my missus says no vonder, as yourn can sport sich a dress, For vensome people's husbands is vite-vashed, their purses ain't less;This I will say, thof she puts herself in wiolent rages, She's not at all stingy in respect of her sarvant's wages. BETTY. Ah! you've got the luck of it--for my missus is as mean as she's proud;On'y eight pound a-year, and no tea and sugar allowed. And then there's seven children to do for--two is down with the measles, And t'others, poor things! is half starved, and as thin as weazles;And then missus sells all the kitchen stuff!--(you don't know my trials!)And takes all the money I get at the rag-shop for the vials! SALLY. Vell! I could'nt stand that!--If I was you, I'd soon give her warning. BETTY. She's saved me the trouble, by giving me notice this morning. But--hush!I hear master bawling out for his shaving water--Jist tell your missus from me, mine's everythink as she thought her! SCENE V. "How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders--we'll nevertrouble the tailors again, I promise them. " It is the proud boast of some men that they have 'got a wrinkle. ' Howelated then ought this individual to be who has got so many! and yet, judging from the fretful expression of his physiognomy, one would supposethat he is by no means in 'fit' of good humour. His industrious rib, however, appears quite delighted with her handiwork, and in no humour to find the least fault with the loose habits of herhusband. He certainly looks angry, as a man naturally will when his'collar' is up. She, on the other hand, preserves her equanimity in spite of hisunexpected frowns, knowing from experience that those who sow do notalways reap; and she has reason to be gratified, for every beholder willagree in her firm opinion, that even that inimitable ninth ofninths--Stulz, never made such a coat! In point of economy, we must allow some objections may be made to theextravagant waist, while the cuffs she has bestowed on him may probablybe a fair return (with interest) of buffets formerly received. The tail (in two parts) is really as amusing as any 'tale' that everemanated from a female hand. There is a moral melancholy about it thatis inexpressibly interesting, like two lovers intended for each other, and that some untoward circumstance has separated; they are 'parted, ' andyet are still 'attached, ' and it is evident that one seems 'too long' forthe other. The 'goose' generally finishes the labours of the tailor. Now, somecarping critics may be wicked enough to insinuate that this garb too wasfinished by a goose! The worst fate I can wish to such malignantscoffers is a complete dressing from this worthy dame; and if she doesnot make the wisest of them look ridiculous, then, and not till then, will I abjure my faith in her art of cutting! And proud ought that man to be of such a wife; for never was mortal'suited' so before! SCENE VI. "Catching--a cold. " What a type of true philosophy and courage is this Waltonian! Cool and unmoved he receives the sharp blows of the blustering wind--asif he were playing dummy to an experienced pugilist. Although he would undoubtedly prefer the blast with the chill off, he isso warm an enthusiast, in the pursuit of his sport, that he looks withcontempt upon the rude and vulgar sport of the elements. He reallyangles for love--and love alone--and limbs and body are literallytransformed to a series of angles! Bent and sharp as his own hook, he watches his smooth float in the rough, but finds, alas! that it dances to no tune. Time and bait are both lost in the vain attempt: patiently he rebaits, until he finds the rebait brings his box of gentles to a discount; andthen, in no gentle humour, with a baitless hook, and abated ardor, hewinds up his line and his day's amusement(?)--and departs, with thedetermination of trying fortune (who has tried him) on some, future andmore propitious day. Probably, on the next occasion, he may be gratifiedwith the sight of, at least, one gudgeon, should the surface of the riverprove glassy smooth and mirror-like. (We are sure his self-love will notbe offended at the reflection!) and even now he may, with truth, aver, that although he caught nothing, he, at least, took the best perch in theundulating stream! SCENE VII. "Help! help! Oh! you murderous little villin? this is vot you callsrowing, is it?--but if ever I gets safe on land again, I'll make yourepent it, you rascal. I'll row you--that I will. " "Mister Vaterman, vot's your fare for taking me across?" "Across, young 'ooman? vy, you looks so good-tempered, I'll pull youover for sixpence?" "Are them seats clean?" "O! ker-vite:--I've just swabb'd 'em down. " "And werry comfortable that'll be! vy, it'll vet my best silk?" "Vatered silks is all the go. Vel! vell! if you don't like; it, there'smy jacket. There, sit down a-top of it, and let me put my arm roundyou. " "Fellow!" "The arm of my jacket I mean; there's no harm in that, you know. " "Is it quite safe? How the wind blows!" "Lord! how timorsome you be! vy, the vind never did nothin' else since Iknow'd it" "O! O! how it tumbles! dearee me!" "Sit still! for ve are just now in the current, and if so be you go overhere, it'll play old gooseberry with you, I tell you. " "Is it werry deep?" "Deep as a lawyer. " "O! I really feel all over"-- "And, by Gog, you'll be all over presently--don't lay your hand on myscull" "You villin, I never so much as touched your scull. You put me up. " "I must put you down. I tell you what it is, young 'ooman, if you vantto go on, you must sit still; if you keep moving, you'll stay where youare--that's all! There, by Gosh! we're in for it. " At this point ofthe interesting dialogue, the young 'ooman gave a sudden lurch tolarboard, and turned the boat completely over. The boatman, blowing likea porpoise, soon strode across the upturned bark, and turning round, beheld the drenched "fare" clinging to the stern. "O! you partic'lar fool!" exclaimed the waterman. "Ay, hold on a-stern, and the devil take the hindmost, say I!" SCENE VIII. In for it, or Trying the middle. A little fat manWith rod, basket, and can, And tackle complete, Selected a seatOn the branch of a wide-spreading tree, That stretch'd over a branch of the Lea:There he silently sat, Watching his float--like a tortoise-shell cat, That hath scented a mouse, In the nook of a room in a plentiful house. But alack!He hadn't sat long--when a crackAt his backMade him turn round and pale--And catch hold of his tail!But oh! 'twas in vainThat he tried to regainThe trunk of the treacherous tree;So heWith a shake of his headDespairingly said--"In for it, --ecod!"And away went his rod, And his best beaver hat, Untiling his roof!But he cared not for that, For it happened to be a superb water proof, Which not being himself, The poor elf!Felt a world of alarmAs the armMost gracefully bow'd to the stream, As if a respect it would show it, Tho' so much below it!No presence of mind he dissembled, But as the branch shook so he trembled, And the case was no longer a riddleOr joke;For the branch snapp'd and broke;And altho'The angler cried "Its no go!"He was presently--'trying the middle. ' SEYMOUR'S SKETCHES A DAY'S SPORT "Arena virumque cano. " CHAPTER I. The Invitation--the Outfit--and the sallying forth. TO Mr. AUGUSTUS SPRIGGS, AT Mr. WILLIAMS'S, GROCER, ADDLE STREET. (Tower Street, 31st August, 18__) My dear Chum, Dobbs has give me a whole holiday, and it's my intention to take thefield to-morrow--and if so be you can come over your governor, and cutthe apron and sleeves for a day--why "Together we will range the fields;" and if we don't have some prime sport, my name's not Dick, that's all. I've bought powder and shot, and my cousin which is Shopman to my Uncleat the corner, have lent me a couple of guns that has been 'popp'd. 'Don't mind the expense, for I've shot enough for both. Let me know byJim if you can cut your stick as early as nine, as I mean to have a liftby the Highgate what starts from the Bank. Mind, I won't take no refusal--so pitch it strong to the old 'un, andcarry your resolution nem. Con. And believe me to be, your old Crony, RICHARD GRUBB. P. S. The guns hasn't got them thingummy 'caps, ' but that's no matter, for cousin says them cocks won't always fight: while them as he has lentis reg'lar good--and never misses fire nor fires amiss. In reply to this elegant epistle, Mr. Richard Grubb was favoured with aline from Mr. Augustus Spriggs, expressive of his unbounded delight inhaving prevailed upon his governor to 'let him out;' and concluding witha promise of meeting the coach at Moorgate. At the appointed hour, Mr. Richard Grubb, 'armed at all points, ' mountedthe stage--his hat cocked knowingly over his right eye--his gunhalf-cocked and slung over his shoulder, and a real penny Cuba in hismouth. "A fine mornin' for sport, " remarked Mr. Richard Grubb to hisfellow--passenger, a stout gentleman between fifty and sixty years ofage, with a choleric physiognomy and a fierce-looking pigtail. "I dessay--" "Do you hang out at Highgate?" continued the sportsman. "Hang out?" "Ay, are you a hinhabitant?" "To be sure I am. " "Is there any birds thereabouts?" "Plenty o' geese, " sharply replied the old gentleman. "Ha! ha! werry good!--but I means game;--partridges and them sort o'birds. " "I never see any except what I've brought down. " "I on'y vish I may bring down all I see, that's all, " chuckled the joyousMr. Grubb. "What's the matter?" "I don't at all like that 'ere gun. " "Lor! bless you, how timorsome you are, 'tain't loaded. " "Loaded or not loaded, it's werry unpleasant to ride with that gun o'yours looking into one's ear so. " "Vell, don't be afeard, I'll twist it over t'other shoulder, --there! buta gun ain't a coach, you know, vich goes off whether it's loaded or not. Hollo! Spriggs! here you are, my boy, lord! how you are figg'dout--didn't know you--jump up!" "Vere's my instrument o' destruction?" enquired the lively Augustus, whenhe had succeeded in mounting to his seat. "Stow'd him in the boot!" The coachman mounted and drove off; the sportsmen chatting and laughingas they passed through 'merry Islington. ' "Von't ve keep the game alive!" exclaimed Spriggs, slapping his friendupon the back. "I dessay you will, " remarked the caustic old boy with the pigtail; "forit's little you'll kill, young gentlemen, and that's my belief!" "On'y let's put 'em up, and see if we don't knock 'em down, as cleverlyas Mister Robins does his lots, " replied Spriggs, laughing at his ownwit. Arrived at Highgate, the old gentleman, with a step-fatherly anxiety, bade them take care of the 'spring-guns' in their perambulations. "Thankee, old boy, " said Spriggs, "but we ain't so green as not to knowthat spring guns, like spring radishes, go off long afore Autumn, youknow!" CHAPTER II. The Death of a little Pig, which proves a great Bore! "Now let's load and prime--and make ready, " said Mr. Richard, when theyhad entered an extensive meadow, "and--I say--vot are you about? Don'tput the shot in afore the powder, you gaby!" Having charged, they shouldered their pieces and waded through the tallgrass. "O! crikey!--there's a heap o' birds, " exclaimed Spriggs, looking up at aflight of alarmed sparrows. "Shall I bring 'em down?" "I vish you could! I'd have a shot at 'em, " replied Mr. Grubb, "butthey're too high for us, as the alderman said ven they brought him acouple o' partridges vot had been kept overlong!" "My eye! if there ain't a summat a moving in that 'ere grass yonder--cockyour eye!" "Cock your gun--and be quiet, " said Mr. Grubb. The anxiety ofthe two sportsmen was immense. "It's an hare--depend on't--stoopdown--pint your gun, --and when I say fire--fire! there it is--fire!" Bang! bang! went the two guns, and a piercing squeak followed the report. "Ve've tickled him, " exclaimed Spriggs, as they ran to pick up the spoil. "Ve've pickled him, rayther, " cried Grubbs, "for by gosh it's a piggy!" "Hallo! you chaps, vot are you arter?" inquired a man, popping his headover the intervening hedge. "Vy, I'm blessed if you ain't shot von o'Stubbs's pigs. " And leaping the hedge he took the 'pork' in his arms, while the sportsmen who had used their arms so destructively now took totheir legs for security. But ignorance of the locality led them into themidst of a village, and the stentorian shouts of the pig-bearer soonbringing a multitude at their heels, Mr. Richard Grubb was arrested inhis flight. Seized fast by the collar, in the grasp of the butcher andconstable of the place, all escape was vain. Spriggs kept a respectfuldistance. "Now my fine fellow, " cried he, brandishing his staff, "you 'ither paysfor that 'ere pig, or ve'll fix you in the cage. " Now the said cage not being a bird-cage, Mr. Richard Grubb could see noprospect of sport in it, and therefore fearfully demanded the price ofthe sucking innocent, declaring his readiness to 'shell out. ' Mr. Stubbs, the owner, stepped forward, and valued it at eighteenshillings. "Vot! eighteen shillings for that 'ere little pig!" exclaimed theastounded sportsman. "Vy I could buy it in town for seven any day. " But Mr. Stubbs was obdurate, and declared that he would not 'bate afarden, ' and seeing no remedy, Mr. Richard Grubb was compelled to 'melt asovereign, ' complaining loudly of the difference between country-fed andtown pork! Shouldering his gun, he joined his companion in arms, amid the jibes andjeers of the grinning rustics. "Vell, I'm blowed if that ain't a cooler!" said he. "Never mind, ve've made a hit at any rate, " said the consoling Spriggs, "and ve've tried our metal. " "Yes, it's tried my metal preciously--changed a suv'rin to two bob! byjingo!" "Let's turn Jews, " said Spriggs, "and make a vow never to touch porkagain!" "Vot's the use o' that?" "Vy, we shall save our bacon in future, to be sure, " replied Spriggs, laughing, and Grubb joining in his merriment, they began to look aboutthem, not for fresh pork, but for fresh game. "No more shooting in the grass, mind!" said Grubb, "or ve shall have theblades upon us agin for another grunter p'r'aps. Our next haim must beat birds on the ving! No more forking out. Shooting a pig ain't no lark--that's poz!" CHAPTER III. The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure--Grubb gets on a paling and runs arisk of being impaled. "Twig them trees?"--said Grubb. "Prime!" exclaimed Spriggs, "and vith their leaves ve'll have an huntthere. --Don't you hear the birds a crying 'sveet, ' 'sveet?' Thof allbirds belong to the Temperance Society by natur', everybody knows asthey're partic'larly fond of a little s'rub!" "Think ve could leap the ditch?" said Mr. Richard, regarding with alonging look the tall trees and the thick underwood. "Lauk! I'll over it in a jiffy, " replied the elastic Mr. Spriggs thereain't no obelisk a sportsman can't overcome"--and no sooner had beuttered these encouraging words, than he made a spring, and came'close-legged' upon the opposite bank; unfortunately, however, he losthis balance, and fell plump upon a huge stinging nettle, which would havebeen a treat to any donkey in the kingdom! "Oh!--cuss the thing!" shrieked Mr. Spriggs, losing his equanimity withhis equilibrium. "Don't be in a passion, Spriggs, " said Grubb, laughing. "Me in a passion?--I'm not in a passion--I'm on'y--on'y--nettled!"replied he, recovering his legs and his good humour. Mr. Grubb, takingwarning by his friend's slip, cautiously looked out for a narrower partof the ditch, and executed the saltatory transit with all the agility ofa poodle. They soon penetrated the thicket, and a bird hopped so near them, thatthey could not avoid hitting it. --Grubb fired, and Sprigg's gun echoedthe report. "Ve've done him!" cried Spriggs. "Ve!--me, if you please. " "Vell--no matter, " replied his chum, "you shot a bird, and I shottoo!--Vot's that?--my heye, I hear a voice a hollering like winkin;--bolt!" Away scampered Spriggs, and off ran Grubb, never stopping till he reacheda high paling, which, hastily climbing, he found himself literally upontenter-hooks. "There's a man a coming, old fellow, " said an urchin, grinning. "A man coming! vich vay? do tell me vich vay?" supplicated the sportsman. The little rogue, however, only stuck his thumb against his snubnose--winked, and ran off. But Mr. Grubb was not long held in suspense; a volley of inelegantphrases saluted his ears, while the thong of a hunting-whip twistedplayfully about his leg. Finding the play unequal, he wisely gave up thegame--by dropping his bird on one side, and himself on the other; at thesame time reluctantly leaving a portion of his nether garment behind him. "Here you are!" cried his affectionate friend, --picking him up--"ain'tyou cotch'd it finely?" "Ain't I, that's all?" said the almost breathless Mr. Grubb, "I'm almostdead. " "Dead!--nonsense--to be sure, you may say as how you're off the hooks!and precious glad you ought to be. " "Gracious me! Spriggs, don't joke; it might ha' bin werry serious, " saidMr. Grubb, with a most melancholy shake of the head:--"Do let's get outo' this wile place. " "Vy, vat the dickins!" exclaimed Spriggs, "you ain't sewed up yet, areyou?" "No, " replied Grubb, forcing a smile in spite of himself, "I vish I vos, Spriggs; for I 've got a terrible rent here!" delicately indicating theposition of the fracture. And hereupon the two friends resolving to make no further attempt atbush-ranging, made as precipitate a retreat as the tangled nature of thepreserve permitted. CHAPTER IV. Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf! "On'y think ven ve thought o' getting into a preserve--that ve got into apickle, " said Sprigg, still chuckling over their last adventure. "Hush!" cried Grubb, laying his hand upon his arm--"see that bird hoppingthere?" "Ve'll soon make him hop the twig, and no mistake, " remarked Spriggs. "There he goes into the 'edge to get his dinner, I s'pose. " "Looking for a 'edge-stake, I dare say, " said the facetious Spriggs. "Now for it!" cried Grubb! "pitch into him!" and drawing his trigger heaccidentally knocked off the bird, while Spriggs discharged the contentsof his gun through the hedge. "Hit summat at last!" exclaimed the delighted Grubb, scampering towardsthe thorny barrier, and clambering up, he peeped into an adjoininggarden. "Will you have the goodness to hand me that little bird I've just shotoff your 'edge, " said he to a gardener, who was leaning on his spade andholding his right leg in his hand. "You fool, " cried the horticulturist, "you've done a precious job--You'veshot me right in the leg--O dear! O dear! how it pains!" "I'm werry sorry--take the bird for your pains, " replied Grubb, andapprehending another pig in a poke, he bobbed down and retreated as fastas his legs could carry him. "Vot's frightened you?" demanded Spriggs, trotting off beside his chum, "You ain't done nothing, have you?" "On'y shot a man, that's all. " "The devil!" "It's true--and there'll be the devil to pay if ve're cotched, I can tellyou--'Vy the gardener vill swear as it's a reg'lar plant!--and therevon't be no damages at all, if so be he says he can't do no work, and isobleeged to keep his bed--so mizzle!" With the imaginary noises of a hotpursuit at their heels, they leaped hedge, ditch, and style withoutdaring to cast a look behind them--and it was not until they had put twogood miles of cultivated land between them and the spot of theirunfortunate exploit that they ventured to wheel about and breathe again. "Vell, if this 'ere ain't a rum go!"--said Spriggs--"in four shots--ve'vekilled a pig--knocked the life out o' one dicky-bird--and put a wholecharge into a calf. Vy, if ve go on at this rate we shall certainly betaken up and get a setting down in the twinkling of a bed-post!" "See if I haim at any think agin but vot's sitting on a rail or a post"--said Mr. Richard--"or s'pose Spriggs you goes on von side of an 'edgeand me on t'other--and ve'll get the game between us--and then--" "Thankye for me, Dick, " interrupted Spriggs, "but that'll be a sort o'cross-fire that I sha'n't relish no how. --Vy it'll be just for all theworld like fighting a jewel--on'y ve shall exchange shots--p'r'apsvithout any manner o' satisfaction to 'ither on' us. No--no--let's shootbeside von another--for if ve're beside ourselves ve may commit suicide. " "My vig!" cries Mr. Grubb, "there's a covey on 'em. " "Vere?" "There!" "Charge 'em, my lad. " "Stop! fust charge our pieces. " Having performed this preliminary act, the sportsmen crouched in a dryditch and crawled stealthily along in order to approach the temptingcovey as near as possible. Up flew the birds, and with trembling hands they simultaneously touchedthe triggers. "Ve've nicked some on 'em. " "Dead as nits, " said Spriggs. "Don't be in an hurry now, " said the cautious Mr. Grubb, "ve don't knowfor certain yet, vot ve hav'n't hit. " "It can't be nothin' but a balloon then, " replied Spriggs, "for ve on'yfired in the hair I'll take my 'davy. " Turning to the right and the left and observing nothing, they boldlyadvanced in order to appropriate the spoil. "Here's feathers at any rate, " said Spriggs, "ve've blown him to shivers, by jingo!" "And here's a bird! hooray!" cried the delighted Grubb--"and look'ee, here's another--two whole 'uns--and all them remnants going for nothingas the linen-drapers has it!" "Vot are they, Dick?" inquired Spriggs, whose ornithological knowledgewas limited to domestic poultry; "sich voppers ain't robins or sparrers, I take it. " "Vy!" said the dubious Mr. Richard-resting on his gun and throwing oneleg negligently over the other--"I do think they're plovers, or larks, orsummat of that kind. " "Vot's in a name; the thing ve call a duck by any other name vould heatas vell!" declaimed Spriggs, parodying the immortal Shakspeare. "Talking o' heating, Spriggs--I'm rayther peckish--my stomick's bina-crying cupboard for a hour past. --Let's look hout for a hinn!" CHAPTER V. An extraordinary Occurrence--a Publican taking Orders. Tying the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggsproudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends. After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, whatthey termed, an house of "hentertainment. " Entering a parlour, with a clean, sanded floor, (prettily herring-boned, as the housemaids technically phrase it, ) furnished with red curtains, half a dozen beech chairs, three cast-iron spittoons, and a beer-bleachedmahogany table, --Spriggs tugged at the bell. The host, with a rotund, smiling face, his nose, like Bardolph's, blazing with fiery meteors, anda short, white apron, concealing his unmentionables, quickly answered thetintinabulary summons. "Landlord, " said Spriggs, who had seated himself in a chair, while Mr. Richard was adjusting his starched collar at the window;--"Landlord! veshould like to have this 'ere game dressed. " The Landlord eyed the 'game' through his spectacles, and smiled. "Roasted, or biled, Sir?" demanded he. "Biled?--no:--roasted, to be sure!" replied Spriggs, amazed at hispretended obtuseness: "and, I say, landlord, you can let us have plentyo' nice wedgetables. " "Greens?" said the host;--but whether alluding to the verdant characterof his guests, or merely making a polite inquiry as to the article theydesired, it was impossible, from his tone and manner, to divine. "Greens!" echoed Spriggs, indignantly; "no:--peas and 'taters. " "Directly, Sir, " replied the landlord; and taking charge of the twoleetle birds, he departed, to prepare them for the table. "Vot a rum cove that 'ere is, " said Grubb. "Double stout, eh?" said Spriggs, and then they both fell to a-laughing;and certain it is, that, although the artist has only given us a draughtof the landlord, he was a subject sufficient for a butt! "Vell! I must, say, " said Grubb, stretching his weary legs under themahogany, "I never did spend sich a pleasant day afore--never!" "Nor I, " chimed in Spriggs, "and many a day ven I'm a chopping up the'lump' shall I think on it. It's ralely bin a hout and houter! Lauk!how Suke vill open her heyes, to be sure, ven I inform her how ve've binout with two real guns, and kill'd our own dinner. I'm bless'd if she'llswallow it!" "I must say ve have seen a little life, " said Grubb. "And death too, " added Spriggs. "Vitness the pig!" "Now don't!" remonstrated Grubb, who was rather sore upon this part ofthe morning's adventures. "And the gardener, "--persisted Spriggs. "Hush for goodness sake!" said Mr. Richard, very seriously, "for if that'ere affair gets vind, ve shall be blown, and--" --In came the dinner. The display was admirable and very abundant, andthe keen air, added to the unusual exercise of the morning, had given theyoung gentlemen a most voracious appetite. The birds were particularly sweet, but afforded little more than amouthful to each. The 'wedgetables, ' however, with a due proportion of fine old Cheshire, and bread at discretion, filled up the gaps. It was only marvellouswhere two such slender striplings could find room to stow away such analarming quantity. How calm and pleasant was the 'dozy feel' that followed upon mastication, as they opened their chests (and, if there ever was a necessity for suchan action, it was upon this occasion, ) and lolling back in their chairs, sipped the 'genuine malt and hops, ' and picked their teeth! The talkative Spriggs became taciturn. His gallantry, however, didprompt him, upon the production of a 'fresh pot, ' to say, "Vell, Grubbs, my boy, here's the gals!" "The gals!" languidly echoed Mr. Richard, tossing off his tumbler, with amost appropriate smack. CHAPTER VI. The Reckoning. "Pull the bell, Spriggs, " said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill. " Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared. "Vot's to pay?" "Send you the bill directly, gentlemen, " replied the landlord, bowing, and trundling out of the room. The cook presently entered, and laying the bill at Mr. Grubb's elbow, took off the remnants of the 'game, ' and left the sportsmen to discussthe little account. "My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his dilatingoculars over the slip. "Vy, vot's the damage?" enquired Spriggs. "Ten and fourpence. " "Ten and fourpence!--never!" cried his incredulous companion. "Vot ahimposition. " "Vell!" said Mr. Grubb, with a bitter emphasis, "if this is finding ourown wittles, we'll dine at the hor'nary next time"-- "Let's have a squint at it, " said Mr. Spriggs, reaching across the table;but all his squinting made the bill no less, and he laid it down with asigh. "It is coming it rayther strong, to be sure, " continued he; "but Idare say it's all our happearance has as done it. He takes us for peopleo' consequence, and"-- "Vot consequence is that to us?" said Grubbs, doggedly. "Vell, never mind, Dick, it's on'y vonce a-year, as the grotto-boyssays--" "It need'nt to be; or I'll be shot if he mightn't vistle for the brads. Howsomever, there's a hole in another suv'rin. " "Ve shall get through it the sooner, " replied the consoling Spriggs. "Isee, Grubb, there aint a bit of the Frenchman about you"-- "Vy, pray?" "Cos, you know, they're fond o' changing their suv'rins, and--you aint!" The pleasant humour of Spriggs soon infected Grubb, and he resolved to bejolly, and keep up the fun, in spite of the exorbitant charge for thevegetable addenda to their supply of game. "Come, don't look at the bill no more, " advised Spriggs, but treat it asold Villiams does his servants ven they displeases him. " "How's that?" "Vy, discharge it, to be sure, " replied he. This sage advice being promptly followed, the sportsmen, shoulderingtheir guns, departed in quest of amusement. They had not, however, proceeded far on their way, before a heavy shower compelled them to takeshelter under a hedge. "Werry pleasant!" remarked Spriggs. "Keep your powder dry, " said Grubb. "Leave me alone, " replied Spriggs; "and I think as we'd better pop ourguns under our coat-tails too, for these ere cocks aint vater-cocks, youknow! Vell, I never seed sich a rain. I'm bless'd if it vont drive allthe dickey-birds to their nestes. " "I vish I'd brought a numberella, " said Grubbs. "Lank! vot a pretty fellow you are for a sportsman!" said Spriggs, "itdon't damp my hardour in the least. All veathers comes alike to me, asthe butcher said ven he vos a slaughtering the sheep!" Mr. Richard Grubb, here joined in the laugh of his good-humoured friend, whose unwearied tongue kept him in spirits--rather mixed indeed thanneat--for the rain now poured down in a perfect torrent. "I say, Dick, " said Spriggs, "vy are ve two like razors?" "Cos ve're good-tempered?" "Werry good; but that aint it exactly--cos ve're two bright blades, vothas got a beautiful edge!" "A hexcellent conundrum, " exclaimed Grubb. "Vere do you get 'em?' "All made out of my own head, --as the boy said ven be showed the woodentop-spoon to his father!" CHAPTER VII. A sudden Explosion--a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the other takesamiss. A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, took up the rain! The two crouching friends taking advantage of the cessation in the storm, prepared to start. But in straightening the acute angles of their legsand arms, Mr. Sprigg's piece, by some entanglement in his protectinggarb, went off, and the barrel striking Mr. Grubb upon the os nasi, stretched him bawling on the humid turf. "O! Lord! I'm shot. " "O! my heye!" exclaimed the trembling Spriggs. "O! my nose!" roared Grubb. "Here's a go!" "It's no go!--I'm a dead man!" blubbered Mr. Richard. Mr. AugustusSpriggs now raised his chum upon his legs, and was certainly ratheralarmed at the sanguinary effusion. "Vere's your hankercher?--here!--take mine, --that's it--there!--let'slook at it. " "Can you see it?" said Grubb, mournfully twisting about his face mostludicrously, and trying at the same time to level his optics towards thedamaged gnomon. "Yes!" "I can't feel it, " said Grubb; "it's numbed like dead. " "My gun vent off quite by haccident, and if your nose is spoilt, can'tyou have a vax von?--Come, it ain't so bad!" "A vax von, indeed!--who vouldn't rather have his own nose than all thevax vons in the vorld?" replied poor Richard. "I shall never be able toshow my face. " "Vy not?--your face ain't touched, it's on'y your nose!" "See, if I come out agin in an hurry, " continued the wounded sportsman. "I've paid precious dear for a day's fun. The birds vill die a nat'raldeath for me, I can tell you. " "It vos a terrible blow--certainly, " said Spriggs; "but these thingsvill happen in the best riggle'ated families!" "How can that be? there's no piece, in no quiet and respectable familiesas I ever seed!" And with this very paradoxical dictum, Mr. Grubb trudged on, leadinghimself by the nose; Spriggs exerting all his eloquence to make him thinklightly of what Grubb considered such a heavy affliction; for after all, although he had received a terrible contusion, there were no bonesbroken: of which Spriggs assured his friend and himself with a great dealof feeling! Luckily the shades of evening concealed them from the too scrutinizingobservation of the passengers they encountered on their return, for suchaccidents generally excite more ridicule than commiseration. Spriggs having volunteered his services, saw Grubb safe home to his doorin Tower Street, and placing the two guns in his hands, bade him acordial farewell, promising to call and see after his nose on the morrow. The following parody of a customary paragraph in the papers will beconsidered, we think, a most fitting conclusion to their day's sport. "In consequence of a letter addressed to Mr. Augustus Spriggs, by Mr. Richard Grubb, the parties met early yesterday morning, but after firingseveral shots, we are sorry to state that they parted without coming toany satisfactory conclusion. "