The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures 21

The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures 21

XXIV.

 

MRS. RAMSBOTTOM AT THE "CHISWICK FÊTE."

 

TO JOHN BULL.

 

July, 1829.

 

MY DEAR B.,--We was all at the wet feet at Chissick on Saturday; Lavy

and Fulmer, and Mounsheer, my second, and the two "june dimiselles,"

as Mounsheer calls them; and sich a site as that for a breakfast,

never did I clap my too eyes on--furst of all, we went off in

Fulmer's broach and Mounsheer's brisket--all in the poring rein--two

cargoes of us, and we was literally socked through and through afore

we got there, and there was a great poodle under the place where I

sot; however, we had paid our jennies, and we was determined to have

a reseat in fool.

 

But now I must tell you before I begin, that when we got home, Fulmer

sot down just like Swalter Scott, or Milton, or Pop, or any one of

the potes, and rot a whole account of it in verse, every bit of it as

true as if it warn't pottery at all, and then he sung it to us, Lavy

playing the Pein forte accompaniment; and when I asked him to give it

me for you, he tore it all to hattams. But I matched him there, as I

had done afore. As soon as he was gone out of the room I picked up

the pieces (which, if I had not a watched him, I think he would have

gone and done himself); and so I stuck the paper together as well as

I cood, but some of the virses is still missing: however, wherever

there is a ole in the ballad I will supply the place with my pros,

so as to make it a jint produxion just like Bowman and Flesher, or

Merton and Reinholds, or Mathews and Yates.

 

Fulmer begins thus, to your favourite toon of "Hunting the Hair:"--

 

"Go tell Jenkins to order the horses,

The clouds are all breaking, the sky's looking blue;

At half after one let us muster our forces,

And order the carriage at half after two.

Tell Emma and Susan

To put their thick shoes on,

And get Parabous on,

And send up for Kate;

Put the Halls in the rumble,

(I'm sure they can't grumble,)

With Bob and your humble,

They'll just make us eight.

 

"'Where are ye going to?' cries Mrs. Dickenson,

'What can you do such a very damp day?'

'Comfort ourselves with champagne and cold chickens soon,

See the big cherries, and hear Littolf play,

Iceing or prawning,

(It's all under awning)

Or lounging the lawn in,

The crowd will be great;

So come, Mrs. Dickenson,

Folks will drop thick in soon,

Mud you shan't stick in soon,

Come to the _Fete_.

 

"'The people are clever who get up this festival,

Men who sit toiling in science for weeks,

Hold councils on cabbages, and (which is best of all)

Speak upon salads and lecture on leeks;

Who sit (without raillery),

Vote upon celery,

Clear out their gallery

After debate--

Men who can grapple

With onion or apple,

And tell if the sap will

Rise early or late.'

 

"Off we started, the rain was just mizzling,

Crack went the whips, and we rattled through Town;

At Kensington coach-stand it faster was drizzling,

At Kensington church, it began to come down;

The post-boys were whipping,

The post-horses slipping,

The Halls were quite dripping

At Hammersmith Gate;

On we went dashing,

And squashing and splashing,

Till after this fashion

We got to the _Fete_."

 

Then there's a verse wanton, which of course I can't remember; but

the Bow-street officers were all round the dore, and they looked to

me as little like Bows as they did like officers; however, there was

a large poodle to get over, and I heard them bid me wait till they

sent for a Plank, which turned out to be a humane cretur, the head

of the Pelisse. We had no umberellars, only our parisoles; but we

got into a long tent, and there Fulmer told me I had better make my

election to stay, because I was favoured both by the canvas and the

pole; which I do not understand, but he put it all in rhyme about a

"hujus encampment," something you know, I don't quite remember, to

"keep off the damp meant;" and then he praised the bootiful cretures

what was a setting in the mud under the yawning, which cood not get

out, and called them the most elegant flowers and fruits of the day.

 

It was no good a stopping ther however, for we was a mile a'most

from the feeding place which Mr. Grunter had prepared for his

fellow-creturs; so I determined wet or dry, nolus bolus, over I

would go--it was uncommon squashy, and poor Lavy had a touch of the

Room attics in her head before we come out, however it warnt no use

complaining, so the two Hauls, which was phissitors of ours, and I,

ondertook to cross over the plot--of that, Fulmer says--

 

"Cross the _green_ ocean amongst the carousers there,

Oh! what a squabble, what pushing, what thumps;

Dandies appropriately drest in _duck_ trowsers, were

Making their way through the water in pumps.

To see them a tripping,

And sliding and slipping,

With cold meat and dripping"----

 

Here there is another ole, and I think it must be a herror of the

arthurs, because "cold meat and dripping" is nonsense; however, no

matter, we got over, and _there_, if you'll believe me, was a matter

of a kipple of thousand humane creturs, just like pigs with their

noses in the troffs, agin the wall, a heating and a heating, and a

grunting and a grumbling, over their uncles in gravelly mud.

 

I heard one man ask for a kennel of chicken, and another wanted a

blanket of veel; but the master cock pot his head out of a French

marqui, and said there warnt nothing shew (which, as you know, means

hot, in the language of the Galls); so I squeedged out three young

youths and two gulls which was a making themselves sick with eating

isis, and made rheum for myself, and sot too to make up my jennys

worth; but if you'll believe me, dear B. (I didn't care for the muck

I was a standing in, for I had a cork soul,) but presently I felt

drip, drip, drip, something a dripping into my neck behind, which I

was so ot a crossing the grace plot I didn't feel at first, but which

was the rein a coming through the callyko top of the yawning; and

what was uncommon surprising to me, although the clouts above were so

black, yet the rein which fell, cum down quite blue. I had a glass

of Bucephalus, three big glasses of celery Shimpain (which shews the

advantage of the garden, for it was just as good as any made from

grapes) and a small glass of O. D. V., which the master cock in his

white nite cap sent out to me. Fulmer called the people who got under

cover, the _con-tents_, and them as could not, the _non con-tents_.

 

But if you had seen the way in which the genteelmen run about to

fetch vitals for the ladies--it was quite charming. "I want a wing

for a lady," says one--"I want a couple of legs for my ant, who can't

walk," says another--"A thick slice of beef for Miss Angelina," and

so on. Oh! it was quite delightful, only I don't think so double

refined as I expected for a jenny. Fulmer says, in a verse about the

company--

 

"There were the Thompsons, the Greens, and the Nevensons,

Two Miss Barkers, and twelve Mr. Smiths;

Three Miss Wilsons, Miss White, and the Stephensons,

Pretty Miss Hawkins, and four of the Friths,

The Walkers and Bartons,

The Simpsons and Martins,

The Stubbs's and Parton's,

And old Mrs. Tate.

With Hopkins and Higgins,

And thin Mrs. Figgins,

And fat Mr. Wiggins,

The Elite of the _Fete_."

 

However one accident happened--somethink always does happen wherever

we go. My second was beautifully dressed--all after one of the

Magaseens, and quite unlike any body else--and somehow or other--I

dont know whether it was the whet or what--but part of her close

tumbled off; however the Bows which was about thought it was one of

her sleeves, and nobody cared except her husband Mounsheer, who was

quite in a bustle at loosing anything, and _would_ make her tell

him all about it, because he was terrified at seeing her so very

much reduced in figger in so short a space of time--Mounsheer got it

back from one of the Artillery Bumbardeers which was in the garden

to watch the river for fear it should get dry--howsoever there was

plenty of water this time.

 

Well, B., after we had eat in four places, and tried for the fifth,

but could get nothing but the bottoms of Hams, which Fulmer twisted

into "Hamsbottoms," and made it rhyme to my name, we went out just

for a minuet, thinking the rein had sopsided; but we had scarce

got out of the heating place when down it come agin, and we was

obliged to run for it--(I don't run very expedishus at any time,

much less after what I had eat)--and got into what is called the

committee-room, a place as dark as pitch, and smelling like a seed

shop; indeed I never seed such a place in my life; and there was the

Tyrrelease Pheasants, and sich a silly gull a asking them all manner

of foolish questions about their singeing their Tyrrellease kitches

or whatever they are. This warn't lost upon Fulmer--and I have

preserved that virse--

 

"God save the King was the best of the shew for us,

And it was greeted with loyalty's roar;

But when they sang the words 'Long to _rain_ over us,'

Nature herself seemed to call an _encore_.

'Twas in the committee room,

Dark as a city room,

By no means a pretty room,

Close to the gate;

Amongst the complainers,

Thus warbled the Rainers,

Most apt entertainers,

For Saturday's _Fete_."